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tfic_contestTitle: The Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings
Rating: K
Universe: G1 AU
Pairing: Orion Pax/Minos, Orion Pax/Megatron
Characters: Orion Pax, Minos (Megatron), Megatron, Alpha Trion
Word Count: 10,225
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Even the smallest changes can have large effects. Just ask the Decepticons’ newest recruit – Orion Pax.
Slipping and sliding over the loose ground, the youth pushed himself onward. He ignored the damage reports and low energy warnings. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was escaping.
No matter how tired he was, no matter how much he hurt, he couldn't stop. His pursuers were right behind him, shadowing his every step.
A blast struck beside him, sending fragments of heated metal everywhere. Shards drove into the leg of fleeing youth, causing him to stumble.
The young mech lost his footing and slid down the unstable mound. A miniature avalanche of slag metal bounced off of his body, raising protests from sensitive areas and new urgency from the various warnings flashing behind his optics.
"End of the road, kid," one of his pursuers chuckled. "Don't worry. This'll be all over quick."
Blue optics wide, the youth still tried to scramble away. His fingers dug into the treacherous, loose metal terrain, seeking purchase and finding none.
Light glinted off the red symbol adorning all of his hunters’ chassis. The Autobrand – the mark of the Prime’s Guards and the Cybertronian Council – stared at the youth. A symbol that once meant safety and order now became an emblem of murder and destruction.
One of the guards raised a gun, the barrel aimed at the youth’s blue helm, “Any last words, kid?”
“Go to the Pit!” the injured mech managed to pant, fans whirring in protest. Either way, the youth knew, he wouldn’t last long.
The guard’s finger tightened on the trigger, followed by the unmistakable sound of a weapon discharge.
The youth flinched as the guard’s face left his field of vision. Then, darkness rushed up to envelop him and the youth knew no more.
He noticed the lack of pain – and thus, a damages list – first.
It makes sense, he supposed, that you didn’t appear before Primus with grievous injuries and in pain from those wounds. The idle thought that he didn’t feel dead crossed his processor. He felt… similar to the times he woke in a medical bay, not in the presence of his god. And, the idea of awakening in the Matrix just seemed… wrong, somehow. As if he needed to do… something before rejoining Primus.
Then his audio sensors re-boot and the youth found his explanation.
“…Status: Will be fully online within 10 breems. He is awake, now, but motor functions require more time to completely return. He will be capable of walking, at a slow pace, within 3 breems,” an oddly melodic voice commented.
Another voice replied, “Then the most logical course of action is to remain here. Lord Megatron wishes to speak with him.”
Megatron. He knew that name. Primus, everyone knew that name. Megatron was the leader of the Decepticons – the movement of Cybertronians who disagreed with the Council and the caste system. For nearly a quarter of a vorn, he and his friends eagerly followed the exploits of the Decepticons. Any information on the Decepticons, no matter how insubstantial was hungrily devoured by their ravenous interest.
He fought down a wave of grief at the thought of his friends. Ariel - who teased them about their interest in the political movement, though she listened to the news just as intently as the rest of their group, and Dion – his quiet and dependable younger brother, so often overlooked as Orion’s follower. They shouldn’t be gone. They should be here with him, not left to rust in the ruins of Tyger Pax…
No! He could mourn later, right now Megatron awaited.
He unshuttered his optics. A quick glance around revealed a standard, if some what sparse, medbay. The two mechs standing by the far wall had to be the ones he’d heard speaking earlier, for no one else was present in the room.
The dark blue one’s visor and mask covered head turned towards him, causing the younger mech to nervously wave back. “Patient: Awake and fully functional. You may take him to Lord Megatron now, Shockwave,” commented the dark blue mech, the owner of the first voice.
In response, his purple companion – Shockwave? - moved towards the youth. “I will escort you to Lord Megatron now.”
“Ok.” The youth carefully slid from the medical berth, excitement at meeting his idol pulsing through his circuits. “Lead the way, please.” The young mech paused. “Shockwave?”
“That is my designation,” confirmed the purple mech. “Do not wander off. We don’t want you to get lost. Lord Megatron would not be pleased.”
Instead of responding verbally, the youth simply fell in to step behind Shockwave as they entered the halls of the base.
After a few breems of walking through nearly identical corridors, the youth was completely lost. How could the inhabitants of the base find their way, he wondered, when there were no obvious location markers anywhere?
Finally, Shockwave indicated a door. “Lord Megatron is through here,” he proclaimed, opening the door.
The youth hesitated for a moment. Then, leaving Shockwave behind, he nervously stepped into the room and the shadows near the door.
It’s a gym, he peripherally realized, his optics fixed on the spark-stoppingly beautiful sight in the center of the exercise room.
The silvery-grey form in the middle of the gym danced through the swarm of drones, each movement destroying at least one opponent. Energon, wires, and large chunks of metal soared through the air like a macabre rain storm unleashed by the silver mech.
After a timeless period, the mech fired a single blast at the last drone and turned to face the concealed watcher. "Enjoying the show?" came the sardonic question.
Blue optics created vertical lines as their owner nodded. "That was incredible, Lord Megatron." The awed youth stepped out of the shadows of the doorway. "Can you teach me to do that?"
Megatron's ruby optics narrowed. "You're the mech the Prime's Guards were chasing. Who are you, young one, to attract such attention? And without any fighting skills to speak of?"
The young red and blue mech shifted, nervously. "My name is Orion, Orion Pax."
"A dual name? Who are your Creators?"
Orion regarded Megatron for a long moment. "My Creator," he began, "was Alpha Trion, though - for my safety - I could not claim him as such. As for the reason the Prime's Guards pursued me..." Blue optics locked on red. "I can prove the Council lied. I survived the Massacre at Tyger Pax."
Megatron snorted dismissively. "I can do that as well. I ordered no such attack."
"But I can prove that there were no Decepticons at Tyger Pax," Orion countered.
"So can any other survivor." Megatron headed towards the exit, but Orion's next words stopped him in his tracks.
"There are none. I overheard the Guards. I'm the only survivor."
“I see,” Megatron paused, a frown creasing his face. “Very well, you may stay, Orion Pax. I will not have my army’s resources wasted on those who do not serve to the best of their abilities. As part of your repayment for my generosity, I expect to see you on the battlefield. The rest will be decided once we discover your strengths, young one. Because combat duty is expected from all those under my command, you will learn how to fight. I will arrange an instructor for you.”
Orion dipped into a bow. “Yes, Lord Megatron. Thank you.” Orion’s spark practically danced with excitement at the thought of joining the Decepticon ranks. Ariel and Dion were going to be so… Orion’s spark seized in pain as he remembered – Ariel and Dion were dead, they wouldn’t, couldn’t be jealous of him. Orion immediately sagged under the guilt assaulting him. He’d forgotten. How could he forget their deaths?
Something of Orion’s internal battle must have shown on his face, for Megatron’s voice filled his audios with soothing words. “Orion. Whomever you lost, they’d want you to live your life and not wallow in your grief and guilt. You are allowed to be happy or excited – even when grieving.” When Orion glanced up at Megatron’s face for reassurance, he saw the ruby optics dimmed under the weight of memories. “I know that better than most.”
Orion blinked at the advice. “I understand, Lord Megatron.” A sad, wry smiled crossed his features. “My spark will need convincing, though.”
One large, black hand rested on Orion’s shoulder as Megatron added, “It’s an easy thing to say, but not to do.” Megatron gently squeezed the shoulder in his grasp. “Take all the time you need, Orion.” With that, the Decepticon Lord headed for the door and conversed with Shockwave in low tones.
Aware his future was being decided only steps away, Orion sought to distract himself from the conversation at the door. He glanced around the training room. One of the ruined drones caught his attention. For all the destruction Megatron unleashed, this one remained almost intact. Curious, Orion walked over to the drone and crouched down to examine it.
An irregular pattern of dents and punctures covered the drone’s armor. Orion frowned, thinking. Megatron had dispatched this drone by hand, so how had it been damaged to create such a design? Orion picked up the drone to study it in greater detail. One of his digits inadvertently slid into one of the holes punctured in the drone’s armor. It fit. Orion blinked and overlaid his free hand to another set of punctures. Ignoring the size difference, the pattern matched perfectly.
Shuttering his optics, Orion called up a memory file of Megatron’s appearance and known weapons. Fighting down a wave of grief, he accessed Dion and Ariel’s last gift to him. The Decepticon leader possessed digits similar to Orion’s own, only proportionally larger. This puncture patterns fit Orion’s own hand scheme, so…
Orion gaped. Megatron had pierced the drone’s armor with nothing but his digits?! The strength needed to achieve that boggled the mind.
Suddenly curious to find out what other secrets the drone held, Orion eagerly resumed his study. So engrossed in his pursuit, the young mech never noticed the optics watching him from the doorway.
“With all due respect, Lord Megatron, this plan is illogical and inefficient. Bringing this… civilian up to Decepticon standards is a waste of our resources. The same time and energy could be used to build and program more warriors.”
Megatron considered Shockwave’s argument. It was true enough. “But none of those warriors will posses the same understanding of the Autobot mindset that Orion does. That is his greatest asset right now. I’m sure other strengths will appear with time and training, Shockwave.” Megatron ran a critical optic over Orion’s frame. “Given his size and agility, I think placing Orion under the tutelage of a Seeker for combat training is the best idea. No other model type in our ranks shares those characteristics with him. Thundercracker will do nicely – less chance of a personality conflict there.”
Shockwave seemed prepared to argue the point further, but Megatron prevented him from speaking with a quiet command. “Watch.”
In the gym proper Orion began a slow and hesitant series of movements, each corresponding to an injury inflicted upon the drone clutched in his hand. The younger mech faltered a few times, trying to figure out the angle certain blows came from – the dents could only tell him so much.
“His balance is off and some of the attacks are from the wrong direction,” Megatron murmured. “And yet, he manages to recreate the fight.” A feral, hungry smile crossed Megatron’s lips. “Imagine what he’ll do with some combat training and a better understanding of tactics, Shockwave. He’ll be glorious,” Megatron whispered, appearing to lose himself in the vision his own words conjured. A moment later, Megatron gave himself a sharp shake, shedding remnants of the fantasy. “I want him tested, Shockwave. I want to know his strengths and weaknesses and how he can best serve me.”
“You want him to take the officer tests?” At Megatron’s nod, the purple guardian sighed. “It will be as you command, Lord Megatron.”
“Good.” Megatron raised his voice. “Orion, come here.”
The youth stumbled, clearly surprised by the intrusion, but obeyed the order. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“Go with Shockwave. He will administer some necessary tests.” At Orion’s slightly panicked look, Megatron added, “Assessment tests. We need to know what your strengths and weaknesses are. How else can I use them to our advantage?”
Orion nodded. “Yes sir, I understand.”
“Good mech.” Megatron watched Orion and Shockwave leave, before striding back into the gym. Megatron stared at the drone Orion examined earlier, thinking. He knew the other Decepticons would question his decision to let Orion join, but Megatron couldn’t find the energy to make himself care.
“Orion. Orion Pax,” he murmured. “How many vorns ago did I last see you?” Megatron laughed, his optics growing distant. He still remembered when they first met, back when Orion was a sparkling…
“He’s just a youngling, for Primus’ sake!”
A gangly silver youngling paused in his exploration of the comfortable receiving room at the thunderous shout as his sensitive head crest folded tightly against his skull. Someone was not happy, and it wasn’t the temporary caretaker assigned to his case after…
Ruby optics shuttered against a fresh wave a grief. Reconciling Gama Nine, his strong, smiling creator, with the lifeless husk in the morgue was impossible. On an intellectual level, he knew Gama’s form rested within that room – Pit, he’d identified it! But, his spark insisted on reaching out for its creator, ignoring the facts. Every time the attempt to connect failed, and every time it brought a wave of fresh grief.
The youngling shook his head violently, drawing himself from his thoughts. He would mourn later, when away from that interfering femme. She claimed she wanted what was best for him – ha! She thought he was a pile of worthless, rusted scrap. Not worth the effort of placing correctly or placing with a temporary family unit at all.
Though, the mech who’d shouted seemed to be taking an interest. Or, he was at least protesting the caretaker’s plan to dump him off at the nearest unskilled labor yard.
The young mech frowned. He was nearly ready for his final upgrades. Surely, it wouldn’t be too hard to find another way to his adult body and just… vanish. Leave his name and life behind, so that femme – and those like her – couldn’t find him and decide his life for him. And, until he was of age, the law gave her that right.
Something touched his silver leg, drawing the mech from his thoughts. He looked down, hunting for the culprit. Ruby optics widened at the sight of a small hand and its owner.
A red and blue sparkling, on the cusp of becoming a youngling, stared back up at him. “Hi. Who are you?” the younger mech asked.
“My name is Minos,” the older mech answered, almost by rote. “What’s yours?”
“Orion,” swiftly replied the sparkling. “You here to see Trion?”
Minos blinked. “Trion? Alpha Trion? This is his residence?”
Orion’s optics widened. “You didn’t know?”
“I…” Minos scrubbed at his face. “I’m not sure where on Cybertron I am.” He paused, trying to figure out how to explain his presence to the younger mech. “My creator isn’t able to take care of me anymore. Since my creator and Trion were friends, the caretaker currently in charge of me decided to see if Trion would want to look after me for a while.”
“Oh.” Orion thought for a moment. “Trion will. He’s nice.” Acting as if that settled the matter, Orion plunked onto the ground and requested, “Read a story, please?”
Minos’ spark melted at the plea in the large, blue optics. “…Sure. What do you want to hear?” the older mech agreed, sinking down to sit comfortably upon the floor.
A large smile lit up the sparkling’s face as the little mech scurried over to a crowded, low-slung bookshelf. “This,” squealed the sparkling as a book of crèche stories was thrust into the youngling’s black hands.
Recognizing the collection as one he owned and loved as a sparkling, the silver mech thumbed rapidly through the pages to his favorite story. “Will this one work?” he asked his smaller companion. At the positive chirp, the youngling began reading, “Once upon a time, on the planet Cybertron….”
The familiar tale wrapped around the two mechs, sweeping the outside world away. Only the heroes, the adventure, and the sound of Minos’ voice existed. Finally, the tale wound to a close with, “And they lived happily ever after.”
The sound of applause startled both youngsters, drawing their optics to a red and blue mech standing in the doorway. “Well read,” he complimented Minos. “You have a talent for speaking.”
Any further conversation between Minos and the new mech vanished under Orion’s enthusiastic greeting. “Trion!” Orion squealed, hopping off his new friend’s lap. “Come and meet Minos! He read me a story!”
Alpha Trion crouched down to look the sparkling in the optics. “I saw that. Can you introduce me to your friend, Orion?”
Orion nodded and tugged on the older mech’s leg. “He’s Minos. He needs you to watch him ‘cause his creator can’t,” Orion babbled and paused, face scrunched in concentration as he tried to remember the rest of the important information he’d heard. “He said his creator was a friend of yours. So, you gotta let him stay.”
“If he wants to stay, he may. I will not keep him here if there is some place else he’d rather be.” Alpha Trion allowed the sparkling to lead him forward. He offered Minos a hand, helping the youngling stand up. “I’m Alpha Trion.”
“Minos.” The silver youth paused. “You’re really going to let me walk out that door? I don’t have to stay here?”
Trion sighed. “Minos, if you want to leave, I will not force you to remain. I’d prefer it if you stayed at least long enough to finish your education and transition into your adult frame, but I can understand if you wish to be somewhere of your choosing or free from the system entirely. No one enjoys having decisions made for them, especially when the decision maker is completely inept.” He shook his head. “That caretaker’s actions provide a stunning argument for you being an emancipated minor.” He paused. “Either way, I’ll help you as much as you permit me. All right?”
Minos nodded, but paused. “The caretaker said I…”
“I don’t care what that- that femme said,” Trion growled. “She shouldn’t be in-charge of younglings, if her plans for you were any indication of her ideas for properly placing orphans. It stinks of youngling abuse, and no creation of one of my friends will suffer that if I can help it.” He sighed. “My apologies, Minos, for snarling at you. You did nothing to deserve my reaction to her.”
“So…” Hesitancy laced Minos’ voice. “You would break the law to spite her?”
Trion answered immediately. “No. I would flout the law to do what’s right for you, Minos.” The former leader of the rebellion against the Quintessons paused. “Take as long as you’d like to decide. There’s no time limit for this sort of question. Until then, you are welcome to enjoy the hospitality of my home.”
Minos tilted his head down in thought. The safety Trion offered, the freedom to choose his own fate… It meant more than the older mech realized. It meant Trion considered Minos old and intelligent enough to know himself, to know what was best for Minos and his plans.
It meant everything.
Minos heaved a silent sigh. So far, he leaned towards staying here, but… his spark rebelled at the thought of replacing Gama with another mech – even Alpha Trion.
Orion’s voice interrupted Minos’ doubting thoughts, as the sparkling chirped, “Stay, please?”
Minos melted under the hope in those large, blue optics.
“Ok,” he told the sparkling, “I’ll stay.”
A soft beeping jolted Megatron from his recollections of happier times and he shook his head to clear out the last, lingering wisps of memory. He needed to focus on the present and future, not lose himself in the past.
Megatron checked his system to determine the reason for the alarm and nearly snorted in disgust. It was merely a message alert. He almost banished the unread message from his processor when the subject line caught his attention. Orion’s test results are available.
Megatron rapidly perused the contents of the message. Shockwave had the results awaiting Megatron’s attention in the Decepticon Lord’s office. Silver lips twitched into a smile. If Orion did as well as Megatron speculated, the young mech would soon join the ranks of the Decepticon officers.
Megatron hurried to his office; he needed to see Orion’s scores as quickly as possible.
After snagging the correct datapad from his desk, Megatron reviewed both Orion’s scores and the notes added by Shockwave and the other testers.
Overall, Orion performed well. There were a few areas below par, such as weapon handling and maintenance, but those were expected of an Autobot civilian. Megatron found a few surprises as well – higher than predicted combat and tactical scores.
In the comments about Orion’s combat skills, Shockwave wrote, ‘Although below standard for our ranks, Orion does know some rudimentary and effective self-defense. I recommend expanding on this base, rather than attempting to retrain his reflexes by starting him from the very beginning of any combat form.’
The notes focusing on the unexpected tactical skill held far more details. ‘Being a ground-based mech, Orion understandably lacks a real understanding of ariel combat tactics, but he shows an aptitude for unconventional ground tactics. Provide him with a standard order – guard this convoy to destination X, he will accomplish it in a standard method. If one provides him with only a goal – capture this city, the resulting plans are creative and effective. Sir, you really must watch his simulation. Orion’s novel tactic works excellently and humorously.’
Curious, Megatron pulled up the file. A few breems of a standard siege greeted him. He snorted. “What’s so great about thi…” Megatron’s voice trailed off and his optics widened at the sight before him. The majority of Orion’s forces kept the city’s defenders’ attention, while several small squads circled around the city to less defended areas, set up catapults, and launched themselves into the city proper. The city’s forces were caught completely unaware by the unexpected interior attack, allowing the squads to open the gates to rest of the Decepticon forces.
‘Impressive,’ Megatron thought, snickering. ‘And I must admit, the flailing motions the catapulted Decepticons make while in the air are most amusing.’
As he signed the orders enrolling the young mech into officer training, a thought crossed Megatron’s mind. ‘Orion will do well here.’
Several orns later, Orion was proving Megatron’s prediction. The young mech's dedication to the Decepticon cause, over his own ambition, earned him the grudging approval of Megatron's command staff. Among his peers, Orion garnered respect for his quick mind and courage in the face of larger Decepticons.
Though neither universally loved nor feared, the acceptance Orion earned showed that the young officer-in-training’s orders would be followed when the time came.
And that time would come.
For now, Orion tackled his training with fierce determination, likely attempting to drown his sorrow under exhaustion.
Megatron watched Orion’s combat lesson from the shadows around the gym’s doorway, nodding his approval of the younger mech’s progress. Orion’s balance improved, Megatron noted idly, along with his fighting form.
So engrossed in noting how the new Decepticon recruit had grown in skill, Megatron missed Thundercracker’s approach until the seeker spoke.
"Orion fights better when you're around," Thundercracker observed.
Megatron blinked. "What?"
“He's no slouch, for a civilian, but he always improves in your presence." Thundercracker shrugged, his wings shifting. "And it's not when he spots you, either. I've had him practicing punches on an unreflective surface, with his back to the door, and I can still tell the moment you walk in from Orion's fighting." The seeker paused. "I don't know how or why you affect him like that, Lord Megatron, but you do.”
Megatron fought to keep his face and voice composed. “Interesting. Is it an obvious increase or only noticeable through careful study?”
The seeker frowned, thinking. “It’s not easy to spot, if you don’t know Orion. But once you notice the change, it’s almost impossible to ignore.” Thundercracker hesitated and added, “I’m sorry I can’t give a clearer answer, my lord.”
Although Megatron frowned at Thundercracker’s lack of knowledge, inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief.
If Starscream’s own trine-mates were unaware of the origin of Orion’s uncanny awareness of Megatron’s presence, the rest of the Decepticons would be even more baffled.
As Megatron stalked back to his quarters, an old memory whispered the word ‘resonance’ in his mind. He remembered the discussion between himself and Alpha Trion prior to leaving the older mech’s residence…
"What are those unformatted glitches thinking?" Minos snarled. "I'd never-"
"Minos."
Minos jumped at Trion's sharp voice and turned to see the mech frowning at him.
"There are young audios nearby,” Trion reminded the silver mech. “Let's take this to my office, where you won't be... overheard."
Although Minos towered over Alpha Trion, the force of the smaller mech’s presence compelled Minos forward. Obediently - if somewhat reluctantly - Minos followed Trion to the study and hesitated at the door.
“Are you sure…” Minos’ voice trailed off at Trion’s nod.
“It’s my study, Minos. I’ll invite whomever I wish into it. Besides,” the elder rebuked gently, “I don’t want this conversation interrupted or spied upon by Orion, Dion, and Ariel.”
Nodding, the silver mech slid into one of the chairs facing the desk and steeled himself for the coming confrontation.
Trion claimed his preferred seat. “Judging from your performance earlier, I gather you heard the rumors about yourself and Orion.”
“Sir,” Minos began, unusually formal. “I’ve never-”
With a quelling look, Trion interrupted the protest. “I know the rumors are false, Minos. I’ve spent more time with you both than any of the neighbors combined.” He paused. “However, I can see why the gossips decided you interface with Orion.” Holding up a hand to stop any outburst from the younger mech, Trion continued with his explanation. “It’s nothing either of you could control. Your sparks resonate with each other. It’s very rare in this day and age.”
“Resonate?”
“Minos, you and Orion are what is known as ‘true sparkmates.’ Sparks who – by the will of Primus – share a connection from the moment of their creation.” He gave a soft laugh. “The closest the rest of us get to that connection is through sparkmerging during interfacing.”
As Trion’s words sunk in, Minos felt his optics widen in comprehension. “That explains so much.” His shoulders slumped in relief. “There’s nothing wrong with either Orion or myself. It’s the way we’re supposed to be.” Minos scrubbed a hand over his face. “After all the insinuations about us, the truth is a welcome commodity.”
“I thought it would be.” Trion’s voice grew serious. “I must ask you to keep your resonance with Orion a secret, for all of our safety.”
Minos stiffened in shock. “What! Why? If the information means Orion’s safety, please use it!”
“There’s more, Minos, and you need to hear it.” Trion released a vent-heaving sigh. “One of my two sons is a potential Prime. I don’t know which one, but I trust my sources in this.” He flashed a wry grin. “These particular sources are both highly unusual and very knowledgeable about that sort of thing. I suppose I could’ve asked which one had the potential, but I feared favoring that one over the other.”
Managing to control his amazement at Trion’s causal revelation, Minos queried, “But what does that have to do with anything?”
Looking sheepish, Trion replied, “I’m sorry I got a bit off topic. However, the fact Dion or Orion has Prime potential is important. Beyond the problems releasing that information would cause – neither of them would have a normal youngling experience, there is another reason for my caution.” He paused. “You have heard of the mysterious murders sweeping over Cybertron, correct?” At Minos’ nod, Trion continued. “There are two facts in the case the general public does not know. One, the killer or killers are following Sentinel Prime’s speaking tour. The other…” Trion’s voice faded away as he pulled a large amount of air into his cooling systems. “The other is this: all the murdered mechs and femmes were potential Primes.”
“Lord Megatron!”
Starscream’s strident voice jerked Megatron out of his memories with almost physical force. “Yes, Starscream,” growled the unhappy mech. “What is it?”
“The information you wanted on our choices for possible next targets is in,” the Air Commander stated, his wings held high and proud. He happily smirked. “It’s in the War Room.”
Megatron nodded and headed towards the War Room, Starscream trailing just behind. A sudden thought struck him, causing Megatron to open a comline. “Megatron to Shockwave.”
Instantly, the purple mech responded to the com. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“Bring Orion to the War Room. I wish him to sit in on this meeting. He might know information about our potential targets unavailable to our other sources.” Megatron paused. “If nothing else, it will be a learning experience.”
“As you command, Lord Megatron.”
Megatron noticed Starscream’s incredulous stare as the Decepticon leader ended the call to Shockwave. “What?” he asked, irritated.
“You’re seriously allowing a new recruit – an underage one at that – into a staff meeting?” queried Starscream, raising an optic ridge.
Megatron snorted. “This early in the process, we’ll hardly be discussing any of our own secrets. Besides, I am… curious to see what plans Orion makes for capturing each city and if they can be implemented.”
“The catapulted mechs?” the seeker asked, snickering. At Megatron’s nod, Starscream continued. “It spread through the officers’ rumor mill already. Most approve of the idea or confess to amusement stemming from it. Blitzkrieg, however, disliked it immensely. I think he views Orion as a threat.”
“Orion’s plan is effective, creative, and one Blitzkrieg didn’t think of. Of course he hates it,” Megatron scornfully replied. He paused. “How accurate do you believe your deduction to be, Starscream?”
Starscream paused at the unusual tone in Megatron’s voice. “It’s Thundercracker’s thought, but it meshes well with my own observations. So, I’d give it a 95% or higher accuracy rating. Why?”
“Blitzkrieg requested Orion join his command, once the latter finishes his training. I intended to grant it, but…” Megatron trailed off, shaking his head. “I want Orion’s talents used, yes. But not for another’s advancement.” The silver head tilted in thought. “I believe I’ll accelerate part of Orion’s training. I want him in on all planning meetings dealing with this campaign.”
Starcream stared at Megatron for a long moment. “You like him,” he said at last. “And I don’t mean the same way my wingmates do. You actually like him.”
“And what makes you think that, Starscream?” Rebuke dripped from Megatron’s tone, warning the other mech from pursuing the topic.
Starscream continued, anyway. “You allow him to join the Decepticons, despite his age and lack of combat skill. You have him tested for officer training, overriding Shockwave’s protests. And, you’re protecting him from exploitation by older mechs. I think that’s pretty conclusive.”
Silence reigned between them for a small eternity.
“I knew him, before. He doesn’t know.” Megatron offered the shortest explanation possible, knowing Starscream understood the reference to his life prior to the Mine C-12 riot.
“Ah.” The seeker slated a look over at his leader. “Orion’s still underage, Lord Megatron, by both Autobot and Decepticon standards.”
Megatron nodded. “The first kill… He’ll make it soon enough.” He paused. “As for the Autobot one, his Coming of Age Creation Orn occurs within the vorn.” Checking his internal chronometer, Megatron added, “It happens soon.”
“That could be trouble,” Starscream mused. “An officer, someone whose career you’ve taken a personal interest in, young, and attractive?” He shook his head. “Do you realize how many mechs and femmes will want to mate him?”
The Decepticon leader froze. ‘Orion bonded to another?’ The very thought of it filled Megatron with the wild desire to visibly state his claim upon the younger mech. Only the thought of Orion’s poor reaction to such a gesture and the knowledge of his underage status kept Megatron’s impulse in check.
Forcing down his reluctance to think about Orion’s other potential bondmates, Megatron finally managed to speak. “We do have a method to deal with an excess of suitors in place.”
“The mating fights?”
Megatron nodded. “Held the orn Orion comes of Age by Autobot standards. While I doubt he will be ready for an arena fight by then, finding a proxy to battle in his place should be easy enough.” The silver helm shifted as Megatron shook his head. “But, that can wait for another orn. We have a conquest to plan.”
Silence fell between the two mechs and lasted until they arrived at the War Room entrance.
“With the youngling sitting in, this meeting may actually be interesting,” Starscream quipped as he opened the door.
Megatron glanced around the War Room, doing a brief mental roll call. 'Excellent. Everyone is present, now that Starscream and I are here.' He paused. 'No,' he amended his previous thought. Orion's not here. Where is... Ah. There he is.' Megatron frowned slightly. 'Why is Orion hiding behind Shockwave?' Megatron followed Orion's line of sight.
"Blitzkrieg!" Megatron barked at the leader of his ground troops. "Stop glaring at the trainee and pay attention!"
With one last glare in Orion's direction, the tank complied.
Satisfied, Megatron turned to Shockwave. "Which cities fit our criteria for location and resources?"
"Three cities fall within the specified parameters," the guardian began. "They are Cathode, Ion, and Castillo." As Shockwave named each place, he marked its location upon the map projected from the large center table.
Shockwave highlighted the first marker and a hologram of the city under discussion sprang into life. "The city nearest to our borders, Cathode, contains some of the largest material manufacturing plants on Cybertron. The defenses are... adequate for its size and location."
"And the moral of the citizens?" Megatron asked. "Will they accept the change in government, or are they still attached to the old, Autobot regime?"
"Moral: average." Soundwave fielded Megatorn's question. "The residents of Cathode are unhappy with the current regime, but fear Decepticon rule more than they dislike the Senate."
"I see. Thank you, Soundwave." Megatron gestured for Shockwave to continue the briefing.
Compliant, the guardian called up the next city. "Ion, farther from our boundaries, but still close enough to keep our supply lines short. Ion's main export is energon, of all grades. It is less heavily guarded than Cathode. Primarily owing to Ion's good relations with Iacon and the Senate, who they believe will protect them from any threats."
Orion snorted.
When the collected members of the Decpeticon leadership looked at him, Orion explained. "That's what Tyger Pax believed. Look where it got us."
Megatron frowned and sent a commanding look in Soundwave's direction.
The dark blue spy master nodded, accepting the implied mission - investigate which other cities had been promised protection by the Senate.
Vaguely uneasy that other cities risked the same fate as Tyger Pax, Megatron ordered Shockwave, "Continue."
The last image arose as the guardian followed the command. "Castillo." Shockwave's cannon gestured to the holo. "It produces a mixture of weapons and energon, along with a mixture of other products. It possesses the heaviest defenses of all our potential targets, but not impregnable. The constabulary takes a pro-active stance on defense. Most of our spies were spotted and, at least temporarily, detained."
Megatron nodded. "Any further comments?" he asked the assembled Decepticons.
"They..." Orion's voice trailed off under the assault of Blitzkrieg's glare. "Never mind, sirs."
"No," Megatron spoke directly to Orion. "If you know something, I want to hear it."
The younger mech nodded. "They - the citizens of Castillo - they call it the 'impenetrable city'. It's never been taken by conquest, only by surrender or trickery." Orion met Megatron's optics. "If the Decepticons take Castillo, you strike a decisive blow to the Autobots' morale."
Megatron nodded. "Always an important consideration to remember, the effect of capturing your target has upon your enemies." He glanced around the room. "Does anyone have anything else to add?"
Silence momentarily filled the room.
"In that case, I want everyone to prepare and submit a plan for capturing a city, along with reasons for and against attacking that city. Submit them by the end of the next orn." Megatron paused, seeking out blue optics. "That includes you as well, Orion." Returning his attention to the room at large, he finished, "I'll see all of you in four orns."
Until the next meeting, Megatron split his time and attention between reviewing the attack plans suggested for the three possible targets and planning the mating fight for Orion’s hand. Of the two projects, he found more enjoyment in studying his officers’ recommendations – normally a boring job. Among the tediously similar reports, two stood out: Orion’s plan and Blitzkrieg’s strategy.
Orion recommended capturing Ion by infiltration. By sending groups of disguised Decepticon soldiers into Ion, the young mech argued, the Decepticons could easily take the city upon a prearranged signal.
In contrast, Blitzkrieg’s strategy for conquering Castillo relied heavily on conventional tactics. He suggested laying siege to the walled city, with coordinated strikes on its weak areas by both ground and flying units.
Two plans. One, by stealth and cunning, offered the prospect of obtaining greater amounts of energon. The other, while providing less fuel, delivered an enormous blow to the Autobots’ morale.
Megatron frowned, before approving Blitzkrieg’s plan. Orion’s plan – for all its strengths – possessed a major flaw. Should enough of the Decepticon troops fail to react promptly to the signal, the city would not fall. Megatron admitted the chance of failure because of the troops on the inside responding too slowly was too high to risk Orion’s plan at this juncture. Perhaps when more strike forces and covert operations teams finished training, this plan could be employed. With a sigh, Megatron filed the datapad containing Orion’s strategy away for future use.
Megatron finished cleaning up the datapads on his desk, when the door chimed. “Enter,” he commanded.
Orion stepped carefully over the threshold, into the office proper. “Lord Megatron,” greeted the younger mech with a bow.
“Ah, Orion. What brings you here?” Megatron asked.
The younger mech shifted, nervously. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Megatron gestured to his recently cleared desktop. “Disturbing me? What could you possibly be disturbing me from?” He shook his head. “On the contrary, your presence provides a welcome respite from all the administrative work I deal with.” Red optics studied the slender form. “Again, what matter brings you here, Orion?”
“Thundercracker mentioned something and when I asked for an explanation, he suggested I speak with you.” Orion cycled air through his vents. “He mentioned something called a ‘mating fight’ and said I should have a proxy for that.” Blue optics met red as Orion finally looked up from the floor.
Megatron interlaced his black fingers. “A mating fight occurs when multiple suitors vie for the spark of a Decepticon mech or femme. The suitors fight both each other and the courted person for the right to mate. Often, if the person being courted prefers one suitor over the other, that suitor finds the contest rigged in his favor.” He paused, giving Orion a chance to process all that information. “Sometimes, the courted person asks a friend – who knows their preference – to fight in their stead. It happens for various reasons, including injury or being on a mission. In your case, Orion, I doubt your fighting skill level will be high enough for you to enter any Arena bouts, even this one.”
Orion nodded, distractedly. “What happens if the proxy beats all the suitors?”
“The same thing if the courted person won – the mech or femme would remain un-bonded. If enough suitors retained interest in the person, another contest could be arranged. Or the contested person might find someone to court.” Megatron paused, thoughtfully. “What triggered that question, Orion?”
The younger mech hesitated. “I-I-I…” he stammered. Collecting himself, Orion started again. “I merely wished to know all the outcomes.”
He glanced down at Megatron’s desk, trying to avoid the knowledgeable red optics. “You’re arranging a mating fight for me?” Orion finally asked.
“Yes. Inquiries about the match began shortly after you joined us, Orion. I plan on holding it on the orn you Come of Age in Autobot terms.” Megatron held up a placating hand. “I’m sure you’ll of Age according to Decetpicon standards by then, but your Creation Orn provides a fixed date for the fight.” He studied the young mech in front of him. “Anything else you wished to know, Orion?”
“No, sir, not at the moment.”
Megatron nodded. “In that case, you can answer a question of mine. Why does Blitzkrieg make you so nervous? You’re practically fearless around me.”
“Do I need a reason beyond the fact he out-masses me several times over and is a more accomplished fighter than I am?” Orion queried.
“I highly doubt he makes you so uncomfortable simply because he out-weighs you, let alone because of his fighting experience.” Red optics levelly met blue ones. “Now, I’d like the truth.”
Vents hissing, Orion spoke, “He keeps mentioning putting me in my place, once you lose interest in my career. He calls me ‘a cheeky upstart,’ among other things. Some of the references he’s made to how he plans to make me respect my elders and betters are… crude, to put it mildly.” Orion gave a humorless laugh. “And that’s saying something, considering I used to work in the dockyards at Tyger Pax.”
“I see.” Controlled anger filled Megatron’s tone. “Rest assured, I’ll have some words with Blitzkrieg about his behavior towards you.”
“Please, let me handle it,” pleaded Orion. “I need to show the other Decepticons that I can deal with this, that the crude remarks don’t bother me. Otherwise, they’ll know I have a weak spot there.”
Silence filled the office for a long moment. Finally, Megatron spoke, “Very well. You may handle it for now. But if Blitzkrieg escalates his harassment in any way, I shall deal with him personally and damn the consequences. Do you understand, Orion?”
“Yes, Lord Megaton,” confirmed Orion.
“Good.” Megatron dismissed the younger mech. “If I don’t see you before then, I shall see you at the next officers’ meeting.”
Orion nodded in acknowledgement as he headed out of Megatron’s office and to his next scheduled combat lesson with Thundercracker.
Tension filled the next staff meeting. Along with the usual sense of expectation prevalent when Megatron revealed a plan and target, there existed an undercurrent of palpable unease emanating from Orion, Shockwave, Blitzkrieg, and Megatron.
“What happened?” Starscream questioned Soundwave.
The telepath briefly replied, “Blitzkrieg: acted unwisely.”
Megatron mentally snorted. ‘Acted unwisely? Primus, it sounds like Blitzkrieg made a bad bet! That was not what he actually did.’ His mind slipped back to the confrontation earlier that orn…
“Lord Megatron!” Blitzkrieg’s voice thundered through the tactical simulation room.
The silver mech’s vents hissed in annoyance. “Blitzkrieg. I refuse to reveal the plan I chose until the staff meeting. Like everyone else, you must wait. Now leave. I am working on something.”
“The reason I sought you out is only peripherally connected to the plans, and barely at that,” the tank refuted. “No, the topic I wish to discuss with you is a different matter. I am concerned about a continuous and unchecked spate of insubordinate actions by a particular mech.”
Quashing his first impulse to demand the ground commander leave, Megatron responded, “You level serious accusations, Blitzkrieg. We can review the situation in my office.” Making a quelling motion, he continued. “Later. Before the staff meeting, when I have free time.”
Megatron never found out if the promise of an upcoming meeting satisfied Blitzkrieg. At that moment, the general spotted the other occupant of the room preparing a computer simulation for discussion.
“You!” snarled Blitzkrieg.
At the unmistakable voice, Orion’s head snapped up. “G-Ground Commander Blitzkrieg, sir!” the younger mech stuttered, optics wide. “I didn’t see you there, sir.”
“You unformatted spawn a glitched turbo-rat! You fragging little scrap-built slag heap! I ought to deactivate you!” Tables and chairs went flying as Blitzkrieg advanced upon the smaller mech. The tank roared, backing Orion into a corner, “You disobeyed a direct order!”
“Sir, I have standing orders to report for classes-”
Blitzkrieg continued his verbal assault, ignoring Orion’s attempts to explain. “I don’t know or care how things were done in the smelting pit you called home, boy, but here we expect you to follow a commanding officer’s orders! No ifs, ands, or buts about it!”
Watching as Orion valiantly tried to stem the tide of vitriol washing over him, Megatron’s optics narrowed. He hoped the younger mech’s attempts at calming Blitzkrieg would succeed. Unfortunately, nothing deterred the angry general and the stream of invectives continued unabated.
Megatron stared in shock at both the creativity and the nastiness of the profanity spewing from Blitzkrieg’s vocalizer. Previously unknown terms entered Megatron’s audio at an incredible volume. Even during his stint as both a miner and a gladiator – two professions known for their cursing abilities – he’d never suffered from an audible assault like this.
Red optics shifting to the other form in concern for the younger mech’s safety, he searched for some sign of Orion handling the situation. The young mech asked to resolve the conflict without Megatron’s assistance. Certainly, Orion could…
Megatron’s thoughts trailed off as a spark-wrenching sight reached his optics. Orion, hemmed in between a wall and the furious Blitzkrieg, released a desperate and unheard plea. “Minos, help me!”
In motion before he consciously made a decision to move, Megatron shoved the tank away from Orion. Cannon pointing directly at Blitzkrieg’s spark, the Decepticon leader growled. “Orion follows orders perfectly – my orders. Which, because I outrank you, supersede your orders. I never ordered him to follow your commands, especially if it conflicted with his training,” he snarled, shifting his arm slightly. “Now, get out of my sight!”
Blitzkrieg didn’t move.
“Are you challenging me?!” Megatron snapped, an ominous whine rising from his fusion cannon. “Or are you just feeling stupid?”
“Nether,” Blitzkrieg bit out. Hands reaching for Orion, he continued, “I merely wish to install some proper respect for authority and discipline into that-that insubordinate child!”
Shoving the fusion cannon directly into the ground commander’s face, Megatron spat, “He is not your subordinate or your concern. Now, you have two breems to leave before I shoot you. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Lord Megatron,” the tank harshly ground out. He lumbered out of the room compliantly after shooting a scathing look in Orion’s direction.
The moment the door closed behind Blitzkrieg, whimpers escaped Orion’s vocalizer. Megatron whirled, already expecting what he found. He gathered the shaking mech into his arms, lifting Orion so only their armor separated their sparks. Megatron sat in a discreet alcove, the distraught mech clutched protectively to his chest.
“It’s all right, Orion, I’m here. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he soothed, spark aching at sight of his Orion so upset. One of Megatron’s hands stroked the red back in a calming pattern.
Gradually, the younger mech's shaking slowed. Orion's vents hitched with sobs, as he went from expressing fear to grief. Orion whispered names Megatron recognized, names the silver mech knew from casualty list of the destroyed and finally mourned city of Tyger Pax.
How long he comforted the red and blue mech, Megatron neither knew nor cared. All that mattered, he held in his embrace. Finally, Orion began calming down.
“I apologize, Lord Megatron,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have been so weak.”
Megatron frowned. “I saw no weakness in your reaction, Orion. If I’d been the target of Blitzkrieg’s tirade, it would’ve reduced me to a cringing pile of metal. Quite honestly, I’m amazed at how well you held up against the onslaught of unjustified abuse and criticism.” He paused. “As for your mourning of Tyger Pax, I expected this reaction orns ago. There is no shame in grieving for those you lost. Remember that, Orion, and remember them.”
Shaking his head, Megatron pulled himself back to the present. He stared grumpily at the datapad in front of him. 'I wish Orion's plan was currently feasible,' Megatron thought. 'Blitzkrieg will take this as a victory for him, not as the best workable strategy of the options provided to me.'
Glancing around the room, he noticed everyone was present. Without preamble, Megatron began the meeting. "We're attacking Castillo, using Blitzkrieg's strategy for the assault. I want everyone to examine the plan and point out flaws or weaknesses in it, and provide suggestions for improvement." He ignored the tank's venomous glare at the perceived insult and continued speaking, "I want your suggestions on my desk in three orns. You are dismissed."
Megatron’s optics tracked Orion’s exit, thankful for Shockwave’s protective presence by the youth’s side. ‘Orion will be safe in Shockwave’s care,’ he attempted to reassure himself. ‘I can’t keep him constantly by my side, no matter how much I want to. Orion needs the space to learn and grow into a self-reliant individual. I know this. Why is it so hard to implement that?’ Vents expelling air in a sigh, Megatron decided, ‘I must avoid Orion until this urge passes or becomes easier to suppress.’
Despite his resolution, Megatron found himself observing Orion more frequently during the orns between the meetings. The young mech's presence and behavior soothed away fears Megatron barely knew he possessed.
Expecting Orion to be uncomfortable around him after the emotional upheaval in the simulation room, Megatron fought back visible surprise at how readily Orion continued to interact with him. When he finally managed to question the younger mech about it, the response stunned him.
"I feel comfortable around you, Lord Megatron. As though I can be myself without fear of censure or ridicule." He shrugged, embarrassed. "The events of in the tactical simulation room reinforced that feeling."
Megatron simply nodded in understanding. He recognized the feeling, so prevalent in his time at Alpha Trion's residence, as an element of their latent spark bond. Glancing at Orion out of the corner of his optic, Megatron considered something he never let fully enter his mind - declaring the mating fight for Orion suspended and claiming the younger mech as his own.
Megatron shook his head. As tempting at the thought was, he needed to prove to himself and others his worthiness of bonding with Orion. And with the attack on Castillo fast approaching, Megatron needed to keep his processor on business. Should no major problems appear in Blitzkrieg's plan, the attack would commence within orns of the upcoming meeting.
Flipping through a pile of data cards for the meeting, Megatron frowned. He didn't see Orion's recommendations anywhere in this pile. During their informal discussions, the younger mech mentioned preparing his observations. Remembering how serious Orion became when speaking of Blitzkrieg's plan, Megatron doubted Orion forgot to submit his work. No, something else was going on here. Something he didn't like.
He made a quick decision. Until he managed to speak with Orion after the meeting, no one would know about the missing report.
Confident he possessed a workable plan, Megatron rose from behind his desk and headed to the War Room.
Watching most of his staff file out of the War Room after the meeting, Megatron fought down a groan. Only Orion, slumped wearily in a chair, kept him from voicing his frustration. The younger mech looked - accurately - as if he had borne the brunt of an attack.
Megatron bit back a snarl at the memory of Blitzkrieg verbally savaging Orion. 'How dare he imply Orion was unprepared and unworthy of attending this meeting!' he thought vehemently. 'If he'd listened to Orion's comments, Blitzkrieg would've known Orion had prepared! It's not Orion's fault I didn't have his work with me!' Megatron paused, optics wide. 'Wait a breem! How did Blitzkrieg know that I never received Orion's recommendations? I never told anyone I didn't get them, not even Orion.'
Cold fury filled Megatron as a suspicion blossomed. “Orion,” he called.
The younger mech’s head jerked upwards. “Lord Megatron! I swear I put the datapad with my finding in your office, as you asked!” he cried, panicked.
“I believe you.”
“Shockwave saw me place it on your desk, ask him if...” Orion’s voice trailed off as Megatron’s words sank in. “You believe me?” Hope flared in blue optics and strengthened at Megatron’s nod. “You really believe me.”
“Orion, from our conversations these past few orns, I know you wrote your recommendations and observations about this plan,” Megatron quietly reassured the younger mech.
Megatron’s optics widened as a red and blue blur rushed towards him. Distantly noticing the sound of a chair falling over, he grunted as Orion’s weight crashed into him. Blue arms encircled his neck as the younger mech hugged him. “Thank you,” Orion sobbed, gratitude filling his voice.
Gently wrapping Orion in his embrace, Megatron replied, “You’re welcome.” He shook his head, trying to find the words he wanted. “You didn’t deserve to face the burnt of Blitzkrieg’s anger during the meeting. Nothing you do merits Blitzkrieg’s wrath, Orion, regardless of your activities.”
Orion nodded, resting his head on Megatron’s silver chest.
“Things will get better as you prove yourself, I promise,” Megatron vowed. Unconsciously demonstrating his honesty and the seriousness of the pledge, he added their secret oath. “I swear to Primus’ left audio.”
And everything went to Pit.
Orion’s vents froze at Megatron’s invocation of Primus’ left audio. Only Minos and he knew that vow, how could Megatron…
Optics wide, he pulled out of the circle of Megatron’s arms. There was no other way the Decepticon leader could’ve known that phrase.
'Megatron was Minos.' The words chased themselves around in circles in Orion's CPU. 'Minos became Megatron.' He sat down heavily in a chair. 'Minos alive? All this time? Why...?'
"Orion?" Megatron's voice interrupted.
Betrayal burned in blue optics. "All this time?"
Confusion showed clearly on Megatron's face. "What?"
"You were him all this time?! Do you know how long we waited for you?! We risked our safety for you, and you never came!" Orion screamed. "I hate you!"
Megatron's optics widened at Orion's outburst. "Waited? Risked your safety? Orion, I managed to sneak into Iacon – while under threat of death, had the Senate found out I was there – to find you. And what did I find? Trion’s residence abandoned, the family missing, and no one knew where you were! What was I supposed to think?
“My spark cried for joy when I saw you again, Orion, being chased by those murders who slaughtered Tyger Pax. And – after you recovered and settled in, I planned to tell you who I’d been, Orion Pax. I even entered my name onto the rolls of contestants for the slagging mating fight, just so I could prove my devotion to you,” he exclaimed.
Orion heard Megatron’s words, but they didn’t form any sort of meaningful image. Not over the roaring in his processor, the raging guilt he felt. “They died. I sensed the Prime and they died because of it. Trion said people were killing those who could sense the Prime, had the potential to be Prime. I did. But I hid in a group of classmates, to hide from the Prime. He felt wrong. They died because of me. Father said we had to leave before they figured out who Prime felt. Tell no one. I argued for telling Minos. Wrote a letter, telling when we’d be in Iacon. Wrote and begged Minos to come with us, never heard back. We waited for him for orns and no Minos. And all the time, my classmates died. Running out of classmates, out of time, had to go. No Minos! Where?” Vaguely aware he spoke aloud, Orion continued, “Heard about riot at Minos’ mine. Was Minos dead? Would he come? Why didn’t he come back to me? He promised!”
Distantly, Orion recognized Megatron’s voice speaking again. “Primus, they found you twice over. No wonder you’re upset. You lost everything, even the one mech you thought you could always count on.” The sorrowful tone continued, “I... I'll not force my presence on you any longer, Orion. Not when my presence causes so much pain." The silver mech’s voice paused. "I still expect to see you at the next staff meeting, just so I can make sure you’re all right."
Orion didn't answer. He huddled into himself, forming a ball of misery.
Megatron heaved a sigh. “Perhaps when you calm down, you’ll be ready to listen to my tale.”
As the door closed behind Megatron, Orion mumbled into the still air, "Why didn't you come back for me, Minos? Didn't you love me?"
The next few orns passed with painful slowness for Megatron.
Orion attended the staff meeting as ordered, but the silently huddled figure seemed a mockery of the lively, curious mech from before.
Megatron sighed. “I miss you, Orion,” he murmured, gazing at the city of Castillo. He reluctantly pushed those thoughts aside. “I’ll make it up to you, after we take the city,” Megatron promised. He ignited his thrusters and swooped off towards the target.
Orion tracked the silver form as it swept overhead. “Megatron,” he murmured aloud. His optics widened with a sudden realization. “I never warned them! Shockwave! I spotted something a breem ago, something the flyers need to know!” he shouted. “Tell Soundwave to pass this message: Castillo has newly installed anti-aircraft batteries. All flying mechs, approach with caution!”
The words barely left his vocalizer when a thunderous explosion filled the air. Driven by panic, Orion scoured the skies for any trace of Megatron. His spark froze in terror as he spotted the silver mech, trailing smoke and in an uncontrolled dive.
“No!” he screamed, transforming. “I’m not losing you again!”
Engine howling with protest, Orion threw himself forward. He raced to catch the falling form. He would not, could not fail Megatron. No matter how angry Orion felt at him, Megatron’s life outweighed it.
Ten meters to impact and Orion still had astro-miles to cover. He coaxed more speed from his engine.
Megatron reached five meters and the younger mech remained too far away.
The silver form hit three meters as Orion poured his spark into the race.
Two meters and a mere five astro-miles away, and Orion’s velocity was at its peak. Perhaps it would be enough?
One meter... Impact!
Orion careened to a halt on the lip of Megatron’s impact crater. ‘We’re too close to Castillo. He can’t stay here to be treated,’ Orion thought desperately, looking for signs of serious injuries and spotting none.
Ignoring the risks to himself, Orion returned to robot mode and struggled to pull the larger mech from the hole. Megatron didn’t move.
In desperation, Orion slid partially under Megatron’s frame and transformed. Shunting full power to his anti-gravity units, Orion barely managed to free them from the crater. He crawled back towards the Decepticon lines, focusing entirely on his goal and the injured mech lying upon him. One thought running through his head, ‘Please be all right, Megatron. I need to apologize and to tell you… I want to be your mate.’
Megatron crawled back to painful awareness.
He remembered getting shot down by the batteries of Castillo. ‘So,’ he wondered, ‘am I in a medbay somewhere?’
Touch brought the expected sensations of agony and a medical bay repair berth.
His audios reported the sounds of a mech recharging by his berth.
Surprised, Megatron on-lined his optics immediately and ignored the slight disorientation it caused. Curled up in a chair beside his berth, Orion recharged peacefully. Megatron smiled at the sight. He reached out to stroke the younger mech’s face.
Orion awoke at his touch. The younger mech leaned into the hand engulfing his cheek.
“Hello, Orion,” Megatorn murmured.
“Hi,” Orion replied. He hesitated and mumbled, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and everything.”
“Apology accepted.” Megatron paused, studying the nervous young mech. “Orion, I’ve known you most of your life. I know when you’re trying to hide something. Go ahead and say it.”
Orion stared at the berth Megatron laid upon. “During our fight, I… I think you said something about enrolling in the mating fight for me. Is it true?”
“It is.” Vents heaving in a sigh, the silver mech added, “I told you I’d come back for you one orn. I intend to keep my word.”
Glancing at the older mech’s face, Orion nodded. “In that case, I have a question for you. How do we go about rigging my mating fight in your favor?”
A slow smile spread across Megatron’s face as Orion’s words sank in. It colored his tone as he spoke, “I’ll be glad to tell you, my mate.”
End
Rating: K
Universe: G1 AU
Pairing: Orion Pax/Minos, Orion Pax/Megatron
Characters: Orion Pax, Minos (Megatron), Megatron, Alpha Trion
Word Count: 10,225
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Even the smallest changes can have large effects. Just ask the Decepticons’ newest recruit – Orion Pax.
Slipping and sliding over the loose ground, the youth pushed himself onward. He ignored the damage reports and low energy warnings. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was escaping.
No matter how tired he was, no matter how much he hurt, he couldn't stop. His pursuers were right behind him, shadowing his every step.
A blast struck beside him, sending fragments of heated metal everywhere. Shards drove into the leg of fleeing youth, causing him to stumble.
The young mech lost his footing and slid down the unstable mound. A miniature avalanche of slag metal bounced off of his body, raising protests from sensitive areas and new urgency from the various warnings flashing behind his optics.
"End of the road, kid," one of his pursuers chuckled. "Don't worry. This'll be all over quick."
Blue optics wide, the youth still tried to scramble away. His fingers dug into the treacherous, loose metal terrain, seeking purchase and finding none.
Light glinted off the red symbol adorning all of his hunters’ chassis. The Autobrand – the mark of the Prime’s Guards and the Cybertronian Council – stared at the youth. A symbol that once meant safety and order now became an emblem of murder and destruction.
One of the guards raised a gun, the barrel aimed at the youth’s blue helm, “Any last words, kid?”
“Go to the Pit!” the injured mech managed to pant, fans whirring in protest. Either way, the youth knew, he wouldn’t last long.
The guard’s finger tightened on the trigger, followed by the unmistakable sound of a weapon discharge.
The youth flinched as the guard’s face left his field of vision. Then, darkness rushed up to envelop him and the youth knew no more.
He noticed the lack of pain – and thus, a damages list – first.
It makes sense, he supposed, that you didn’t appear before Primus with grievous injuries and in pain from those wounds. The idle thought that he didn’t feel dead crossed his processor. He felt… similar to the times he woke in a medical bay, not in the presence of his god. And, the idea of awakening in the Matrix just seemed… wrong, somehow. As if he needed to do… something before rejoining Primus.
Then his audio sensors re-boot and the youth found his explanation.
“…Status: Will be fully online within 10 breems. He is awake, now, but motor functions require more time to completely return. He will be capable of walking, at a slow pace, within 3 breems,” an oddly melodic voice commented.
Another voice replied, “Then the most logical course of action is to remain here. Lord Megatron wishes to speak with him.”
Megatron. He knew that name. Primus, everyone knew that name. Megatron was the leader of the Decepticons – the movement of Cybertronians who disagreed with the Council and the caste system. For nearly a quarter of a vorn, he and his friends eagerly followed the exploits of the Decepticons. Any information on the Decepticons, no matter how insubstantial was hungrily devoured by their ravenous interest.
He fought down a wave of grief at the thought of his friends. Ariel - who teased them about their interest in the political movement, though she listened to the news just as intently as the rest of their group, and Dion – his quiet and dependable younger brother, so often overlooked as Orion’s follower. They shouldn’t be gone. They should be here with him, not left to rust in the ruins of Tyger Pax…
No! He could mourn later, right now Megatron awaited.
He unshuttered his optics. A quick glance around revealed a standard, if some what sparse, medbay. The two mechs standing by the far wall had to be the ones he’d heard speaking earlier, for no one else was present in the room.
The dark blue one’s visor and mask covered head turned towards him, causing the younger mech to nervously wave back. “Patient: Awake and fully functional. You may take him to Lord Megatron now, Shockwave,” commented the dark blue mech, the owner of the first voice.
In response, his purple companion – Shockwave? - moved towards the youth. “I will escort you to Lord Megatron now.”
“Ok.” The youth carefully slid from the medical berth, excitement at meeting his idol pulsing through his circuits. “Lead the way, please.” The young mech paused. “Shockwave?”
“That is my designation,” confirmed the purple mech. “Do not wander off. We don’t want you to get lost. Lord Megatron would not be pleased.”
Instead of responding verbally, the youth simply fell in to step behind Shockwave as they entered the halls of the base.
After a few breems of walking through nearly identical corridors, the youth was completely lost. How could the inhabitants of the base find their way, he wondered, when there were no obvious location markers anywhere?
Finally, Shockwave indicated a door. “Lord Megatron is through here,” he proclaimed, opening the door.
The youth hesitated for a moment. Then, leaving Shockwave behind, he nervously stepped into the room and the shadows near the door.
It’s a gym, he peripherally realized, his optics fixed on the spark-stoppingly beautiful sight in the center of the exercise room.
The silvery-grey form in the middle of the gym danced through the swarm of drones, each movement destroying at least one opponent. Energon, wires, and large chunks of metal soared through the air like a macabre rain storm unleashed by the silver mech.
After a timeless period, the mech fired a single blast at the last drone and turned to face the concealed watcher. "Enjoying the show?" came the sardonic question.
Blue optics created vertical lines as their owner nodded. "That was incredible, Lord Megatron." The awed youth stepped out of the shadows of the doorway. "Can you teach me to do that?"
Megatron's ruby optics narrowed. "You're the mech the Prime's Guards were chasing. Who are you, young one, to attract such attention? And without any fighting skills to speak of?"
The young red and blue mech shifted, nervously. "My name is Orion, Orion Pax."
"A dual name? Who are your Creators?"
Orion regarded Megatron for a long moment. "My Creator," he began, "was Alpha Trion, though - for my safety - I could not claim him as such. As for the reason the Prime's Guards pursued me..." Blue optics locked on red. "I can prove the Council lied. I survived the Massacre at Tyger Pax."
Megatron snorted dismissively. "I can do that as well. I ordered no such attack."
"But I can prove that there were no Decepticons at Tyger Pax," Orion countered.
"So can any other survivor." Megatron headed towards the exit, but Orion's next words stopped him in his tracks.
"There are none. I overheard the Guards. I'm the only survivor."
“I see,” Megatron paused, a frown creasing his face. “Very well, you may stay, Orion Pax. I will not have my army’s resources wasted on those who do not serve to the best of their abilities. As part of your repayment for my generosity, I expect to see you on the battlefield. The rest will be decided once we discover your strengths, young one. Because combat duty is expected from all those under my command, you will learn how to fight. I will arrange an instructor for you.”
Orion dipped into a bow. “Yes, Lord Megatron. Thank you.” Orion’s spark practically danced with excitement at the thought of joining the Decepticon ranks. Ariel and Dion were going to be so… Orion’s spark seized in pain as he remembered – Ariel and Dion were dead, they wouldn’t, couldn’t be jealous of him. Orion immediately sagged under the guilt assaulting him. He’d forgotten. How could he forget their deaths?
Something of Orion’s internal battle must have shown on his face, for Megatron’s voice filled his audios with soothing words. “Orion. Whomever you lost, they’d want you to live your life and not wallow in your grief and guilt. You are allowed to be happy or excited – even when grieving.” When Orion glanced up at Megatron’s face for reassurance, he saw the ruby optics dimmed under the weight of memories. “I know that better than most.”
Orion blinked at the advice. “I understand, Lord Megatron.” A sad, wry smiled crossed his features. “My spark will need convincing, though.”
One large, black hand rested on Orion’s shoulder as Megatron added, “It’s an easy thing to say, but not to do.” Megatron gently squeezed the shoulder in his grasp. “Take all the time you need, Orion.” With that, the Decepticon Lord headed for the door and conversed with Shockwave in low tones.
Aware his future was being decided only steps away, Orion sought to distract himself from the conversation at the door. He glanced around the training room. One of the ruined drones caught his attention. For all the destruction Megatron unleashed, this one remained almost intact. Curious, Orion walked over to the drone and crouched down to examine it.
An irregular pattern of dents and punctures covered the drone’s armor. Orion frowned, thinking. Megatron had dispatched this drone by hand, so how had it been damaged to create such a design? Orion picked up the drone to study it in greater detail. One of his digits inadvertently slid into one of the holes punctured in the drone’s armor. It fit. Orion blinked and overlaid his free hand to another set of punctures. Ignoring the size difference, the pattern matched perfectly.
Shuttering his optics, Orion called up a memory file of Megatron’s appearance and known weapons. Fighting down a wave of grief, he accessed Dion and Ariel’s last gift to him. The Decepticon leader possessed digits similar to Orion’s own, only proportionally larger. This puncture patterns fit Orion’s own hand scheme, so…
Orion gaped. Megatron had pierced the drone’s armor with nothing but his digits?! The strength needed to achieve that boggled the mind.
Suddenly curious to find out what other secrets the drone held, Orion eagerly resumed his study. So engrossed in his pursuit, the young mech never noticed the optics watching him from the doorway.
“With all due respect, Lord Megatron, this plan is illogical and inefficient. Bringing this… civilian up to Decepticon standards is a waste of our resources. The same time and energy could be used to build and program more warriors.”
Megatron considered Shockwave’s argument. It was true enough. “But none of those warriors will posses the same understanding of the Autobot mindset that Orion does. That is his greatest asset right now. I’m sure other strengths will appear with time and training, Shockwave.” Megatron ran a critical optic over Orion’s frame. “Given his size and agility, I think placing Orion under the tutelage of a Seeker for combat training is the best idea. No other model type in our ranks shares those characteristics with him. Thundercracker will do nicely – less chance of a personality conflict there.”
Shockwave seemed prepared to argue the point further, but Megatron prevented him from speaking with a quiet command. “Watch.”
In the gym proper Orion began a slow and hesitant series of movements, each corresponding to an injury inflicted upon the drone clutched in his hand. The younger mech faltered a few times, trying to figure out the angle certain blows came from – the dents could only tell him so much.
“His balance is off and some of the attacks are from the wrong direction,” Megatron murmured. “And yet, he manages to recreate the fight.” A feral, hungry smile crossed Megatron’s lips. “Imagine what he’ll do with some combat training and a better understanding of tactics, Shockwave. He’ll be glorious,” Megatron whispered, appearing to lose himself in the vision his own words conjured. A moment later, Megatron gave himself a sharp shake, shedding remnants of the fantasy. “I want him tested, Shockwave. I want to know his strengths and weaknesses and how he can best serve me.”
“You want him to take the officer tests?” At Megatron’s nod, the purple guardian sighed. “It will be as you command, Lord Megatron.”
“Good.” Megatron raised his voice. “Orion, come here.”
The youth stumbled, clearly surprised by the intrusion, but obeyed the order. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“Go with Shockwave. He will administer some necessary tests.” At Orion’s slightly panicked look, Megatron added, “Assessment tests. We need to know what your strengths and weaknesses are. How else can I use them to our advantage?”
Orion nodded. “Yes sir, I understand.”
“Good mech.” Megatron watched Orion and Shockwave leave, before striding back into the gym. Megatron stared at the drone Orion examined earlier, thinking. He knew the other Decepticons would question his decision to let Orion join, but Megatron couldn’t find the energy to make himself care.
“Orion. Orion Pax,” he murmured. “How many vorns ago did I last see you?” Megatron laughed, his optics growing distant. He still remembered when they first met, back when Orion was a sparkling…
“He’s just a youngling, for Primus’ sake!”
A gangly silver youngling paused in his exploration of the comfortable receiving room at the thunderous shout as his sensitive head crest folded tightly against his skull. Someone was not happy, and it wasn’t the temporary caretaker assigned to his case after…
Ruby optics shuttered against a fresh wave a grief. Reconciling Gama Nine, his strong, smiling creator, with the lifeless husk in the morgue was impossible. On an intellectual level, he knew Gama’s form rested within that room – Pit, he’d identified it! But, his spark insisted on reaching out for its creator, ignoring the facts. Every time the attempt to connect failed, and every time it brought a wave of fresh grief.
The youngling shook his head violently, drawing himself from his thoughts. He would mourn later, when away from that interfering femme. She claimed she wanted what was best for him – ha! She thought he was a pile of worthless, rusted scrap. Not worth the effort of placing correctly or placing with a temporary family unit at all.
Though, the mech who’d shouted seemed to be taking an interest. Or, he was at least protesting the caretaker’s plan to dump him off at the nearest unskilled labor yard.
The young mech frowned. He was nearly ready for his final upgrades. Surely, it wouldn’t be too hard to find another way to his adult body and just… vanish. Leave his name and life behind, so that femme – and those like her – couldn’t find him and decide his life for him. And, until he was of age, the law gave her that right.
Something touched his silver leg, drawing the mech from his thoughts. He looked down, hunting for the culprit. Ruby optics widened at the sight of a small hand and its owner.
A red and blue sparkling, on the cusp of becoming a youngling, stared back up at him. “Hi. Who are you?” the younger mech asked.
“My name is Minos,” the older mech answered, almost by rote. “What’s yours?”
“Orion,” swiftly replied the sparkling. “You here to see Trion?”
Minos blinked. “Trion? Alpha Trion? This is his residence?”
Orion’s optics widened. “You didn’t know?”
“I…” Minos scrubbed at his face. “I’m not sure where on Cybertron I am.” He paused, trying to figure out how to explain his presence to the younger mech. “My creator isn’t able to take care of me anymore. Since my creator and Trion were friends, the caretaker currently in charge of me decided to see if Trion would want to look after me for a while.”
“Oh.” Orion thought for a moment. “Trion will. He’s nice.” Acting as if that settled the matter, Orion plunked onto the ground and requested, “Read a story, please?”
Minos’ spark melted at the plea in the large, blue optics. “…Sure. What do you want to hear?” the older mech agreed, sinking down to sit comfortably upon the floor.
A large smile lit up the sparkling’s face as the little mech scurried over to a crowded, low-slung bookshelf. “This,” squealed the sparkling as a book of crèche stories was thrust into the youngling’s black hands.
Recognizing the collection as one he owned and loved as a sparkling, the silver mech thumbed rapidly through the pages to his favorite story. “Will this one work?” he asked his smaller companion. At the positive chirp, the youngling began reading, “Once upon a time, on the planet Cybertron….”
The familiar tale wrapped around the two mechs, sweeping the outside world away. Only the heroes, the adventure, and the sound of Minos’ voice existed. Finally, the tale wound to a close with, “And they lived happily ever after.”
The sound of applause startled both youngsters, drawing their optics to a red and blue mech standing in the doorway. “Well read,” he complimented Minos. “You have a talent for speaking.”
Any further conversation between Minos and the new mech vanished under Orion’s enthusiastic greeting. “Trion!” Orion squealed, hopping off his new friend’s lap. “Come and meet Minos! He read me a story!”
Alpha Trion crouched down to look the sparkling in the optics. “I saw that. Can you introduce me to your friend, Orion?”
Orion nodded and tugged on the older mech’s leg. “He’s Minos. He needs you to watch him ‘cause his creator can’t,” Orion babbled and paused, face scrunched in concentration as he tried to remember the rest of the important information he’d heard. “He said his creator was a friend of yours. So, you gotta let him stay.”
“If he wants to stay, he may. I will not keep him here if there is some place else he’d rather be.” Alpha Trion allowed the sparkling to lead him forward. He offered Minos a hand, helping the youngling stand up. “I’m Alpha Trion.”
“Minos.” The silver youth paused. “You’re really going to let me walk out that door? I don’t have to stay here?”
Trion sighed. “Minos, if you want to leave, I will not force you to remain. I’d prefer it if you stayed at least long enough to finish your education and transition into your adult frame, but I can understand if you wish to be somewhere of your choosing or free from the system entirely. No one enjoys having decisions made for them, especially when the decision maker is completely inept.” He shook his head. “That caretaker’s actions provide a stunning argument for you being an emancipated minor.” He paused. “Either way, I’ll help you as much as you permit me. All right?”
Minos nodded, but paused. “The caretaker said I…”
“I don’t care what that- that femme said,” Trion growled. “She shouldn’t be in-charge of younglings, if her plans for you were any indication of her ideas for properly placing orphans. It stinks of youngling abuse, and no creation of one of my friends will suffer that if I can help it.” He sighed. “My apologies, Minos, for snarling at you. You did nothing to deserve my reaction to her.”
“So…” Hesitancy laced Minos’ voice. “You would break the law to spite her?”
Trion answered immediately. “No. I would flout the law to do what’s right for you, Minos.” The former leader of the rebellion against the Quintessons paused. “Take as long as you’d like to decide. There’s no time limit for this sort of question. Until then, you are welcome to enjoy the hospitality of my home.”
Minos tilted his head down in thought. The safety Trion offered, the freedom to choose his own fate… It meant more than the older mech realized. It meant Trion considered Minos old and intelligent enough to know himself, to know what was best for Minos and his plans.
It meant everything.
Minos heaved a silent sigh. So far, he leaned towards staying here, but… his spark rebelled at the thought of replacing Gama with another mech – even Alpha Trion.
Orion’s voice interrupted Minos’ doubting thoughts, as the sparkling chirped, “Stay, please?”
Minos melted under the hope in those large, blue optics.
“Ok,” he told the sparkling, “I’ll stay.”
A soft beeping jolted Megatron from his recollections of happier times and he shook his head to clear out the last, lingering wisps of memory. He needed to focus on the present and future, not lose himself in the past.
Megatron checked his system to determine the reason for the alarm and nearly snorted in disgust. It was merely a message alert. He almost banished the unread message from his processor when the subject line caught his attention. Orion’s test results are available.
Megatron rapidly perused the contents of the message. Shockwave had the results awaiting Megatron’s attention in the Decepticon Lord’s office. Silver lips twitched into a smile. If Orion did as well as Megatron speculated, the young mech would soon join the ranks of the Decepticon officers.
Megatron hurried to his office; he needed to see Orion’s scores as quickly as possible.
After snagging the correct datapad from his desk, Megatron reviewed both Orion’s scores and the notes added by Shockwave and the other testers.
Overall, Orion performed well. There were a few areas below par, such as weapon handling and maintenance, but those were expected of an Autobot civilian. Megatron found a few surprises as well – higher than predicted combat and tactical scores.
In the comments about Orion’s combat skills, Shockwave wrote, ‘Although below standard for our ranks, Orion does know some rudimentary and effective self-defense. I recommend expanding on this base, rather than attempting to retrain his reflexes by starting him from the very beginning of any combat form.’
The notes focusing on the unexpected tactical skill held far more details. ‘Being a ground-based mech, Orion understandably lacks a real understanding of ariel combat tactics, but he shows an aptitude for unconventional ground tactics. Provide him with a standard order – guard this convoy to destination X, he will accomplish it in a standard method. If one provides him with only a goal – capture this city, the resulting plans are creative and effective. Sir, you really must watch his simulation. Orion’s novel tactic works excellently and humorously.’
Curious, Megatron pulled up the file. A few breems of a standard siege greeted him. He snorted. “What’s so great about thi…” Megatron’s voice trailed off and his optics widened at the sight before him. The majority of Orion’s forces kept the city’s defenders’ attention, while several small squads circled around the city to less defended areas, set up catapults, and launched themselves into the city proper. The city’s forces were caught completely unaware by the unexpected interior attack, allowing the squads to open the gates to rest of the Decepticon forces.
‘Impressive,’ Megatron thought, snickering. ‘And I must admit, the flailing motions the catapulted Decepticons make while in the air are most amusing.’
As he signed the orders enrolling the young mech into officer training, a thought crossed Megatron’s mind. ‘Orion will do well here.’
Several orns later, Orion was proving Megatron’s prediction. The young mech's dedication to the Decepticon cause, over his own ambition, earned him the grudging approval of Megatron's command staff. Among his peers, Orion garnered respect for his quick mind and courage in the face of larger Decepticons.
Though neither universally loved nor feared, the acceptance Orion earned showed that the young officer-in-training’s orders would be followed when the time came.
And that time would come.
For now, Orion tackled his training with fierce determination, likely attempting to drown his sorrow under exhaustion.
Megatron watched Orion’s combat lesson from the shadows around the gym’s doorway, nodding his approval of the younger mech’s progress. Orion’s balance improved, Megatron noted idly, along with his fighting form.
So engrossed in noting how the new Decepticon recruit had grown in skill, Megatron missed Thundercracker’s approach until the seeker spoke.
"Orion fights better when you're around," Thundercracker observed.
Megatron blinked. "What?"
“He's no slouch, for a civilian, but he always improves in your presence." Thundercracker shrugged, his wings shifting. "And it's not when he spots you, either. I've had him practicing punches on an unreflective surface, with his back to the door, and I can still tell the moment you walk in from Orion's fighting." The seeker paused. "I don't know how or why you affect him like that, Lord Megatron, but you do.”
Megatron fought to keep his face and voice composed. “Interesting. Is it an obvious increase or only noticeable through careful study?”
The seeker frowned, thinking. “It’s not easy to spot, if you don’t know Orion. But once you notice the change, it’s almost impossible to ignore.” Thundercracker hesitated and added, “I’m sorry I can’t give a clearer answer, my lord.”
Although Megatron frowned at Thundercracker’s lack of knowledge, inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief.
If Starscream’s own trine-mates were unaware of the origin of Orion’s uncanny awareness of Megatron’s presence, the rest of the Decepticons would be even more baffled.
As Megatron stalked back to his quarters, an old memory whispered the word ‘resonance’ in his mind. He remembered the discussion between himself and Alpha Trion prior to leaving the older mech’s residence…
"What are those unformatted glitches thinking?" Minos snarled. "I'd never-"
"Minos."
Minos jumped at Trion's sharp voice and turned to see the mech frowning at him.
"There are young audios nearby,” Trion reminded the silver mech. “Let's take this to my office, where you won't be... overheard."
Although Minos towered over Alpha Trion, the force of the smaller mech’s presence compelled Minos forward. Obediently - if somewhat reluctantly - Minos followed Trion to the study and hesitated at the door.
“Are you sure…” Minos’ voice trailed off at Trion’s nod.
“It’s my study, Minos. I’ll invite whomever I wish into it. Besides,” the elder rebuked gently, “I don’t want this conversation interrupted or spied upon by Orion, Dion, and Ariel.”
Nodding, the silver mech slid into one of the chairs facing the desk and steeled himself for the coming confrontation.
Trion claimed his preferred seat. “Judging from your performance earlier, I gather you heard the rumors about yourself and Orion.”
“Sir,” Minos began, unusually formal. “I’ve never-”
With a quelling look, Trion interrupted the protest. “I know the rumors are false, Minos. I’ve spent more time with you both than any of the neighbors combined.” He paused. “However, I can see why the gossips decided you interface with Orion.” Holding up a hand to stop any outburst from the younger mech, Trion continued with his explanation. “It’s nothing either of you could control. Your sparks resonate with each other. It’s very rare in this day and age.”
“Resonate?”
“Minos, you and Orion are what is known as ‘true sparkmates.’ Sparks who – by the will of Primus – share a connection from the moment of their creation.” He gave a soft laugh. “The closest the rest of us get to that connection is through sparkmerging during interfacing.”
As Trion’s words sunk in, Minos felt his optics widen in comprehension. “That explains so much.” His shoulders slumped in relief. “There’s nothing wrong with either Orion or myself. It’s the way we’re supposed to be.” Minos scrubbed a hand over his face. “After all the insinuations about us, the truth is a welcome commodity.”
“I thought it would be.” Trion’s voice grew serious. “I must ask you to keep your resonance with Orion a secret, for all of our safety.”
Minos stiffened in shock. “What! Why? If the information means Orion’s safety, please use it!”
“There’s more, Minos, and you need to hear it.” Trion released a vent-heaving sigh. “One of my two sons is a potential Prime. I don’t know which one, but I trust my sources in this.” He flashed a wry grin. “These particular sources are both highly unusual and very knowledgeable about that sort of thing. I suppose I could’ve asked which one had the potential, but I feared favoring that one over the other.”
Managing to control his amazement at Trion’s causal revelation, Minos queried, “But what does that have to do with anything?”
Looking sheepish, Trion replied, “I’m sorry I got a bit off topic. However, the fact Dion or Orion has Prime potential is important. Beyond the problems releasing that information would cause – neither of them would have a normal youngling experience, there is another reason for my caution.” He paused. “You have heard of the mysterious murders sweeping over Cybertron, correct?” At Minos’ nod, Trion continued. “There are two facts in the case the general public does not know. One, the killer or killers are following Sentinel Prime’s speaking tour. The other…” Trion’s voice faded away as he pulled a large amount of air into his cooling systems. “The other is this: all the murdered mechs and femmes were potential Primes.”
“Lord Megatron!”
Starscream’s strident voice jerked Megatron out of his memories with almost physical force. “Yes, Starscream,” growled the unhappy mech. “What is it?”
“The information you wanted on our choices for possible next targets is in,” the Air Commander stated, his wings held high and proud. He happily smirked. “It’s in the War Room.”
Megatron nodded and headed towards the War Room, Starscream trailing just behind. A sudden thought struck him, causing Megatron to open a comline. “Megatron to Shockwave.”
Instantly, the purple mech responded to the com. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“Bring Orion to the War Room. I wish him to sit in on this meeting. He might know information about our potential targets unavailable to our other sources.” Megatron paused. “If nothing else, it will be a learning experience.”
“As you command, Lord Megatron.”
Megatron noticed Starscream’s incredulous stare as the Decepticon leader ended the call to Shockwave. “What?” he asked, irritated.
“You’re seriously allowing a new recruit – an underage one at that – into a staff meeting?” queried Starscream, raising an optic ridge.
Megatron snorted. “This early in the process, we’ll hardly be discussing any of our own secrets. Besides, I am… curious to see what plans Orion makes for capturing each city and if they can be implemented.”
“The catapulted mechs?” the seeker asked, snickering. At Megatron’s nod, Starscream continued. “It spread through the officers’ rumor mill already. Most approve of the idea or confess to amusement stemming from it. Blitzkrieg, however, disliked it immensely. I think he views Orion as a threat.”
“Orion’s plan is effective, creative, and one Blitzkrieg didn’t think of. Of course he hates it,” Megatron scornfully replied. He paused. “How accurate do you believe your deduction to be, Starscream?”
Starscream paused at the unusual tone in Megatron’s voice. “It’s Thundercracker’s thought, but it meshes well with my own observations. So, I’d give it a 95% or higher accuracy rating. Why?”
“Blitzkrieg requested Orion join his command, once the latter finishes his training. I intended to grant it, but…” Megatron trailed off, shaking his head. “I want Orion’s talents used, yes. But not for another’s advancement.” The silver head tilted in thought. “I believe I’ll accelerate part of Orion’s training. I want him in on all planning meetings dealing with this campaign.”
Starcream stared at Megatron for a long moment. “You like him,” he said at last. “And I don’t mean the same way my wingmates do. You actually like him.”
“And what makes you think that, Starscream?” Rebuke dripped from Megatron’s tone, warning the other mech from pursuing the topic.
Starscream continued, anyway. “You allow him to join the Decepticons, despite his age and lack of combat skill. You have him tested for officer training, overriding Shockwave’s protests. And, you’re protecting him from exploitation by older mechs. I think that’s pretty conclusive.”
Silence reigned between them for a small eternity.
“I knew him, before. He doesn’t know.” Megatron offered the shortest explanation possible, knowing Starscream understood the reference to his life prior to the Mine C-12 riot.
“Ah.” The seeker slated a look over at his leader. “Orion’s still underage, Lord Megatron, by both Autobot and Decepticon standards.”
Megatron nodded. “The first kill… He’ll make it soon enough.” He paused. “As for the Autobot one, his Coming of Age Creation Orn occurs within the vorn.” Checking his internal chronometer, Megatron added, “It happens soon.”
“That could be trouble,” Starscream mused. “An officer, someone whose career you’ve taken a personal interest in, young, and attractive?” He shook his head. “Do you realize how many mechs and femmes will want to mate him?”
The Decepticon leader froze. ‘Orion bonded to another?’ The very thought of it filled Megatron with the wild desire to visibly state his claim upon the younger mech. Only the thought of Orion’s poor reaction to such a gesture and the knowledge of his underage status kept Megatron’s impulse in check.
Forcing down his reluctance to think about Orion’s other potential bondmates, Megatron finally managed to speak. “We do have a method to deal with an excess of suitors in place.”
“The mating fights?”
Megatron nodded. “Held the orn Orion comes of Age by Autobot standards. While I doubt he will be ready for an arena fight by then, finding a proxy to battle in his place should be easy enough.” The silver helm shifted as Megatron shook his head. “But, that can wait for another orn. We have a conquest to plan.”
Silence fell between the two mechs and lasted until they arrived at the War Room entrance.
“With the youngling sitting in, this meeting may actually be interesting,” Starscream quipped as he opened the door.
Megatron glanced around the War Room, doing a brief mental roll call. 'Excellent. Everyone is present, now that Starscream and I are here.' He paused. 'No,' he amended his previous thought. Orion's not here. Where is... Ah. There he is.' Megatron frowned slightly. 'Why is Orion hiding behind Shockwave?' Megatron followed Orion's line of sight.
"Blitzkrieg!" Megatron barked at the leader of his ground troops. "Stop glaring at the trainee and pay attention!"
With one last glare in Orion's direction, the tank complied.
Satisfied, Megatron turned to Shockwave. "Which cities fit our criteria for location and resources?"
"Three cities fall within the specified parameters," the guardian began. "They are Cathode, Ion, and Castillo." As Shockwave named each place, he marked its location upon the map projected from the large center table.
Shockwave highlighted the first marker and a hologram of the city under discussion sprang into life. "The city nearest to our borders, Cathode, contains some of the largest material manufacturing plants on Cybertron. The defenses are... adequate for its size and location."
"And the moral of the citizens?" Megatron asked. "Will they accept the change in government, or are they still attached to the old, Autobot regime?"
"Moral: average." Soundwave fielded Megatorn's question. "The residents of Cathode are unhappy with the current regime, but fear Decepticon rule more than they dislike the Senate."
"I see. Thank you, Soundwave." Megatron gestured for Shockwave to continue the briefing.
Compliant, the guardian called up the next city. "Ion, farther from our boundaries, but still close enough to keep our supply lines short. Ion's main export is energon, of all grades. It is less heavily guarded than Cathode. Primarily owing to Ion's good relations with Iacon and the Senate, who they believe will protect them from any threats."
Orion snorted.
When the collected members of the Decpeticon leadership looked at him, Orion explained. "That's what Tyger Pax believed. Look where it got us."
Megatron frowned and sent a commanding look in Soundwave's direction.
The dark blue spy master nodded, accepting the implied mission - investigate which other cities had been promised protection by the Senate.
Vaguely uneasy that other cities risked the same fate as Tyger Pax, Megatron ordered Shockwave, "Continue."
The last image arose as the guardian followed the command. "Castillo." Shockwave's cannon gestured to the holo. "It produces a mixture of weapons and energon, along with a mixture of other products. It possesses the heaviest defenses of all our potential targets, but not impregnable. The constabulary takes a pro-active stance on defense. Most of our spies were spotted and, at least temporarily, detained."
Megatron nodded. "Any further comments?" he asked the assembled Decepticons.
"They..." Orion's voice trailed off under the assault of Blitzkrieg's glare. "Never mind, sirs."
"No," Megatron spoke directly to Orion. "If you know something, I want to hear it."
The younger mech nodded. "They - the citizens of Castillo - they call it the 'impenetrable city'. It's never been taken by conquest, only by surrender or trickery." Orion met Megatron's optics. "If the Decepticons take Castillo, you strike a decisive blow to the Autobots' morale."
Megatron nodded. "Always an important consideration to remember, the effect of capturing your target has upon your enemies." He glanced around the room. "Does anyone have anything else to add?"
Silence momentarily filled the room.
"In that case, I want everyone to prepare and submit a plan for capturing a city, along with reasons for and against attacking that city. Submit them by the end of the next orn." Megatron paused, seeking out blue optics. "That includes you as well, Orion." Returning his attention to the room at large, he finished, "I'll see all of you in four orns."
Until the next meeting, Megatron split his time and attention between reviewing the attack plans suggested for the three possible targets and planning the mating fight for Orion’s hand. Of the two projects, he found more enjoyment in studying his officers’ recommendations – normally a boring job. Among the tediously similar reports, two stood out: Orion’s plan and Blitzkrieg’s strategy.
Orion recommended capturing Ion by infiltration. By sending groups of disguised Decepticon soldiers into Ion, the young mech argued, the Decepticons could easily take the city upon a prearranged signal.
In contrast, Blitzkrieg’s strategy for conquering Castillo relied heavily on conventional tactics. He suggested laying siege to the walled city, with coordinated strikes on its weak areas by both ground and flying units.
Two plans. One, by stealth and cunning, offered the prospect of obtaining greater amounts of energon. The other, while providing less fuel, delivered an enormous blow to the Autobots’ morale.
Megatron frowned, before approving Blitzkrieg’s plan. Orion’s plan – for all its strengths – possessed a major flaw. Should enough of the Decepticon troops fail to react promptly to the signal, the city would not fall. Megatron admitted the chance of failure because of the troops on the inside responding too slowly was too high to risk Orion’s plan at this juncture. Perhaps when more strike forces and covert operations teams finished training, this plan could be employed. With a sigh, Megatron filed the datapad containing Orion’s strategy away for future use.
Megatron finished cleaning up the datapads on his desk, when the door chimed. “Enter,” he commanded.
Orion stepped carefully over the threshold, into the office proper. “Lord Megatron,” greeted the younger mech with a bow.
“Ah, Orion. What brings you here?” Megatron asked.
The younger mech shifted, nervously. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Megatron gestured to his recently cleared desktop. “Disturbing me? What could you possibly be disturbing me from?” He shook his head. “On the contrary, your presence provides a welcome respite from all the administrative work I deal with.” Red optics studied the slender form. “Again, what matter brings you here, Orion?”
“Thundercracker mentioned something and when I asked for an explanation, he suggested I speak with you.” Orion cycled air through his vents. “He mentioned something called a ‘mating fight’ and said I should have a proxy for that.” Blue optics met red as Orion finally looked up from the floor.
Megatron interlaced his black fingers. “A mating fight occurs when multiple suitors vie for the spark of a Decepticon mech or femme. The suitors fight both each other and the courted person for the right to mate. Often, if the person being courted prefers one suitor over the other, that suitor finds the contest rigged in his favor.” He paused, giving Orion a chance to process all that information. “Sometimes, the courted person asks a friend – who knows their preference – to fight in their stead. It happens for various reasons, including injury or being on a mission. In your case, Orion, I doubt your fighting skill level will be high enough for you to enter any Arena bouts, even this one.”
Orion nodded, distractedly. “What happens if the proxy beats all the suitors?”
“The same thing if the courted person won – the mech or femme would remain un-bonded. If enough suitors retained interest in the person, another contest could be arranged. Or the contested person might find someone to court.” Megatron paused, thoughtfully. “What triggered that question, Orion?”
The younger mech hesitated. “I-I-I…” he stammered. Collecting himself, Orion started again. “I merely wished to know all the outcomes.”
He glanced down at Megatron’s desk, trying to avoid the knowledgeable red optics. “You’re arranging a mating fight for me?” Orion finally asked.
“Yes. Inquiries about the match began shortly after you joined us, Orion. I plan on holding it on the orn you Come of Age in Autobot terms.” Megatron held up a placating hand. “I’m sure you’ll of Age according to Decetpicon standards by then, but your Creation Orn provides a fixed date for the fight.” He studied the young mech in front of him. “Anything else you wished to know, Orion?”
“No, sir, not at the moment.”
Megatron nodded. “In that case, you can answer a question of mine. Why does Blitzkrieg make you so nervous? You’re practically fearless around me.”
“Do I need a reason beyond the fact he out-masses me several times over and is a more accomplished fighter than I am?” Orion queried.
“I highly doubt he makes you so uncomfortable simply because he out-weighs you, let alone because of his fighting experience.” Red optics levelly met blue ones. “Now, I’d like the truth.”
Vents hissing, Orion spoke, “He keeps mentioning putting me in my place, once you lose interest in my career. He calls me ‘a cheeky upstart,’ among other things. Some of the references he’s made to how he plans to make me respect my elders and betters are… crude, to put it mildly.” Orion gave a humorless laugh. “And that’s saying something, considering I used to work in the dockyards at Tyger Pax.”
“I see.” Controlled anger filled Megatron’s tone. “Rest assured, I’ll have some words with Blitzkrieg about his behavior towards you.”
“Please, let me handle it,” pleaded Orion. “I need to show the other Decepticons that I can deal with this, that the crude remarks don’t bother me. Otherwise, they’ll know I have a weak spot there.”
Silence filled the office for a long moment. Finally, Megatron spoke, “Very well. You may handle it for now. But if Blitzkrieg escalates his harassment in any way, I shall deal with him personally and damn the consequences. Do you understand, Orion?”
“Yes, Lord Megaton,” confirmed Orion.
“Good.” Megatron dismissed the younger mech. “If I don’t see you before then, I shall see you at the next officers’ meeting.”
Orion nodded in acknowledgement as he headed out of Megatron’s office and to his next scheduled combat lesson with Thundercracker.
Tension filled the next staff meeting. Along with the usual sense of expectation prevalent when Megatron revealed a plan and target, there existed an undercurrent of palpable unease emanating from Orion, Shockwave, Blitzkrieg, and Megatron.
“What happened?” Starscream questioned Soundwave.
The telepath briefly replied, “Blitzkrieg: acted unwisely.”
Megatron mentally snorted. ‘Acted unwisely? Primus, it sounds like Blitzkrieg made a bad bet! That was not what he actually did.’ His mind slipped back to the confrontation earlier that orn…
“Lord Megatron!” Blitzkrieg’s voice thundered through the tactical simulation room.
The silver mech’s vents hissed in annoyance. “Blitzkrieg. I refuse to reveal the plan I chose until the staff meeting. Like everyone else, you must wait. Now leave. I am working on something.”
“The reason I sought you out is only peripherally connected to the plans, and barely at that,” the tank refuted. “No, the topic I wish to discuss with you is a different matter. I am concerned about a continuous and unchecked spate of insubordinate actions by a particular mech.”
Quashing his first impulse to demand the ground commander leave, Megatron responded, “You level serious accusations, Blitzkrieg. We can review the situation in my office.” Making a quelling motion, he continued. “Later. Before the staff meeting, when I have free time.”
Megatron never found out if the promise of an upcoming meeting satisfied Blitzkrieg. At that moment, the general spotted the other occupant of the room preparing a computer simulation for discussion.
“You!” snarled Blitzkrieg.
At the unmistakable voice, Orion’s head snapped up. “G-Ground Commander Blitzkrieg, sir!” the younger mech stuttered, optics wide. “I didn’t see you there, sir.”
“You unformatted spawn a glitched turbo-rat! You fragging little scrap-built slag heap! I ought to deactivate you!” Tables and chairs went flying as Blitzkrieg advanced upon the smaller mech. The tank roared, backing Orion into a corner, “You disobeyed a direct order!”
“Sir, I have standing orders to report for classes-”
Blitzkrieg continued his verbal assault, ignoring Orion’s attempts to explain. “I don’t know or care how things were done in the smelting pit you called home, boy, but here we expect you to follow a commanding officer’s orders! No ifs, ands, or buts about it!”
Watching as Orion valiantly tried to stem the tide of vitriol washing over him, Megatron’s optics narrowed. He hoped the younger mech’s attempts at calming Blitzkrieg would succeed. Unfortunately, nothing deterred the angry general and the stream of invectives continued unabated.
Megatron stared in shock at both the creativity and the nastiness of the profanity spewing from Blitzkrieg’s vocalizer. Previously unknown terms entered Megatron’s audio at an incredible volume. Even during his stint as both a miner and a gladiator – two professions known for their cursing abilities – he’d never suffered from an audible assault like this.
Red optics shifting to the other form in concern for the younger mech’s safety, he searched for some sign of Orion handling the situation. The young mech asked to resolve the conflict without Megatron’s assistance. Certainly, Orion could…
Megatron’s thoughts trailed off as a spark-wrenching sight reached his optics. Orion, hemmed in between a wall and the furious Blitzkrieg, released a desperate and unheard plea. “Minos, help me!”
In motion before he consciously made a decision to move, Megatron shoved the tank away from Orion. Cannon pointing directly at Blitzkrieg’s spark, the Decepticon leader growled. “Orion follows orders perfectly – my orders. Which, because I outrank you, supersede your orders. I never ordered him to follow your commands, especially if it conflicted with his training,” he snarled, shifting his arm slightly. “Now, get out of my sight!”
Blitzkrieg didn’t move.
“Are you challenging me?!” Megatron snapped, an ominous whine rising from his fusion cannon. “Or are you just feeling stupid?”
“Nether,” Blitzkrieg bit out. Hands reaching for Orion, he continued, “I merely wish to install some proper respect for authority and discipline into that-that insubordinate child!”
Shoving the fusion cannon directly into the ground commander’s face, Megatron spat, “He is not your subordinate or your concern. Now, you have two breems to leave before I shoot you. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Lord Megatron,” the tank harshly ground out. He lumbered out of the room compliantly after shooting a scathing look in Orion’s direction.
The moment the door closed behind Blitzkrieg, whimpers escaped Orion’s vocalizer. Megatron whirled, already expecting what he found. He gathered the shaking mech into his arms, lifting Orion so only their armor separated their sparks. Megatron sat in a discreet alcove, the distraught mech clutched protectively to his chest.
“It’s all right, Orion, I’m here. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he soothed, spark aching at sight of his Orion so upset. One of Megatron’s hands stroked the red back in a calming pattern.
Gradually, the younger mech's shaking slowed. Orion's vents hitched with sobs, as he went from expressing fear to grief. Orion whispered names Megatron recognized, names the silver mech knew from casualty list of the destroyed and finally mourned city of Tyger Pax.
How long he comforted the red and blue mech, Megatron neither knew nor cared. All that mattered, he held in his embrace. Finally, Orion began calming down.
“I apologize, Lord Megatron,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have been so weak.”
Megatron frowned. “I saw no weakness in your reaction, Orion. If I’d been the target of Blitzkrieg’s tirade, it would’ve reduced me to a cringing pile of metal. Quite honestly, I’m amazed at how well you held up against the onslaught of unjustified abuse and criticism.” He paused. “As for your mourning of Tyger Pax, I expected this reaction orns ago. There is no shame in grieving for those you lost. Remember that, Orion, and remember them.”
Shaking his head, Megatron pulled himself back to the present. He stared grumpily at the datapad in front of him. 'I wish Orion's plan was currently feasible,' Megatron thought. 'Blitzkrieg will take this as a victory for him, not as the best workable strategy of the options provided to me.'
Glancing around the room, he noticed everyone was present. Without preamble, Megatron began the meeting. "We're attacking Castillo, using Blitzkrieg's strategy for the assault. I want everyone to examine the plan and point out flaws or weaknesses in it, and provide suggestions for improvement." He ignored the tank's venomous glare at the perceived insult and continued speaking, "I want your suggestions on my desk in three orns. You are dismissed."
Megatron’s optics tracked Orion’s exit, thankful for Shockwave’s protective presence by the youth’s side. ‘Orion will be safe in Shockwave’s care,’ he attempted to reassure himself. ‘I can’t keep him constantly by my side, no matter how much I want to. Orion needs the space to learn and grow into a self-reliant individual. I know this. Why is it so hard to implement that?’ Vents expelling air in a sigh, Megatron decided, ‘I must avoid Orion until this urge passes or becomes easier to suppress.’
Despite his resolution, Megatron found himself observing Orion more frequently during the orns between the meetings. The young mech's presence and behavior soothed away fears Megatron barely knew he possessed.
Expecting Orion to be uncomfortable around him after the emotional upheaval in the simulation room, Megatron fought back visible surprise at how readily Orion continued to interact with him. When he finally managed to question the younger mech about it, the response stunned him.
"I feel comfortable around you, Lord Megatron. As though I can be myself without fear of censure or ridicule." He shrugged, embarrassed. "The events of in the tactical simulation room reinforced that feeling."
Megatron simply nodded in understanding. He recognized the feeling, so prevalent in his time at Alpha Trion's residence, as an element of their latent spark bond. Glancing at Orion out of the corner of his optic, Megatron considered something he never let fully enter his mind - declaring the mating fight for Orion suspended and claiming the younger mech as his own.
Megatron shook his head. As tempting at the thought was, he needed to prove to himself and others his worthiness of bonding with Orion. And with the attack on Castillo fast approaching, Megatron needed to keep his processor on business. Should no major problems appear in Blitzkrieg's plan, the attack would commence within orns of the upcoming meeting.
Flipping through a pile of data cards for the meeting, Megatron frowned. He didn't see Orion's recommendations anywhere in this pile. During their informal discussions, the younger mech mentioned preparing his observations. Remembering how serious Orion became when speaking of Blitzkrieg's plan, Megatron doubted Orion forgot to submit his work. No, something else was going on here. Something he didn't like.
He made a quick decision. Until he managed to speak with Orion after the meeting, no one would know about the missing report.
Confident he possessed a workable plan, Megatron rose from behind his desk and headed to the War Room.
Watching most of his staff file out of the War Room after the meeting, Megatron fought down a groan. Only Orion, slumped wearily in a chair, kept him from voicing his frustration. The younger mech looked - accurately - as if he had borne the brunt of an attack.
Megatron bit back a snarl at the memory of Blitzkrieg verbally savaging Orion. 'How dare he imply Orion was unprepared and unworthy of attending this meeting!' he thought vehemently. 'If he'd listened to Orion's comments, Blitzkrieg would've known Orion had prepared! It's not Orion's fault I didn't have his work with me!' Megatron paused, optics wide. 'Wait a breem! How did Blitzkrieg know that I never received Orion's recommendations? I never told anyone I didn't get them, not even Orion.'
Cold fury filled Megatron as a suspicion blossomed. “Orion,” he called.
The younger mech’s head jerked upwards. “Lord Megatron! I swear I put the datapad with my finding in your office, as you asked!” he cried, panicked.
“I believe you.”
“Shockwave saw me place it on your desk, ask him if...” Orion’s voice trailed off as Megatron’s words sank in. “You believe me?” Hope flared in blue optics and strengthened at Megatron’s nod. “You really believe me.”
“Orion, from our conversations these past few orns, I know you wrote your recommendations and observations about this plan,” Megatron quietly reassured the younger mech.
Megatron’s optics widened as a red and blue blur rushed towards him. Distantly noticing the sound of a chair falling over, he grunted as Orion’s weight crashed into him. Blue arms encircled his neck as the younger mech hugged him. “Thank you,” Orion sobbed, gratitude filling his voice.
Gently wrapping Orion in his embrace, Megatron replied, “You’re welcome.” He shook his head, trying to find the words he wanted. “You didn’t deserve to face the burnt of Blitzkrieg’s anger during the meeting. Nothing you do merits Blitzkrieg’s wrath, Orion, regardless of your activities.”
Orion nodded, resting his head on Megatron’s silver chest.
“Things will get better as you prove yourself, I promise,” Megatron vowed. Unconsciously demonstrating his honesty and the seriousness of the pledge, he added their secret oath. “I swear to Primus’ left audio.”
And everything went to Pit.
Orion’s vents froze at Megatron’s invocation of Primus’ left audio. Only Minos and he knew that vow, how could Megatron…
Optics wide, he pulled out of the circle of Megatron’s arms. There was no other way the Decepticon leader could’ve known that phrase.
'Megatron was Minos.' The words chased themselves around in circles in Orion's CPU. 'Minos became Megatron.' He sat down heavily in a chair. 'Minos alive? All this time? Why...?'
"Orion?" Megatron's voice interrupted.
Betrayal burned in blue optics. "All this time?"
Confusion showed clearly on Megatron's face. "What?"
"You were him all this time?! Do you know how long we waited for you?! We risked our safety for you, and you never came!" Orion screamed. "I hate you!"
Megatron's optics widened at Orion's outburst. "Waited? Risked your safety? Orion, I managed to sneak into Iacon – while under threat of death, had the Senate found out I was there – to find you. And what did I find? Trion’s residence abandoned, the family missing, and no one knew where you were! What was I supposed to think?
“My spark cried for joy when I saw you again, Orion, being chased by those murders who slaughtered Tyger Pax. And – after you recovered and settled in, I planned to tell you who I’d been, Orion Pax. I even entered my name onto the rolls of contestants for the slagging mating fight, just so I could prove my devotion to you,” he exclaimed.
Orion heard Megatron’s words, but they didn’t form any sort of meaningful image. Not over the roaring in his processor, the raging guilt he felt. “They died. I sensed the Prime and they died because of it. Trion said people were killing those who could sense the Prime, had the potential to be Prime. I did. But I hid in a group of classmates, to hide from the Prime. He felt wrong. They died because of me. Father said we had to leave before they figured out who Prime felt. Tell no one. I argued for telling Minos. Wrote a letter, telling when we’d be in Iacon. Wrote and begged Minos to come with us, never heard back. We waited for him for orns and no Minos. And all the time, my classmates died. Running out of classmates, out of time, had to go. No Minos! Where?” Vaguely aware he spoke aloud, Orion continued, “Heard about riot at Minos’ mine. Was Minos dead? Would he come? Why didn’t he come back to me? He promised!”
Distantly, Orion recognized Megatron’s voice speaking again. “Primus, they found you twice over. No wonder you’re upset. You lost everything, even the one mech you thought you could always count on.” The sorrowful tone continued, “I... I'll not force my presence on you any longer, Orion. Not when my presence causes so much pain." The silver mech’s voice paused. "I still expect to see you at the next staff meeting, just so I can make sure you’re all right."
Orion didn't answer. He huddled into himself, forming a ball of misery.
Megatron heaved a sigh. “Perhaps when you calm down, you’ll be ready to listen to my tale.”
As the door closed behind Megatron, Orion mumbled into the still air, "Why didn't you come back for me, Minos? Didn't you love me?"
The next few orns passed with painful slowness for Megatron.
Orion attended the staff meeting as ordered, but the silently huddled figure seemed a mockery of the lively, curious mech from before.
Megatron sighed. “I miss you, Orion,” he murmured, gazing at the city of Castillo. He reluctantly pushed those thoughts aside. “I’ll make it up to you, after we take the city,” Megatron promised. He ignited his thrusters and swooped off towards the target.
Orion tracked the silver form as it swept overhead. “Megatron,” he murmured aloud. His optics widened with a sudden realization. “I never warned them! Shockwave! I spotted something a breem ago, something the flyers need to know!” he shouted. “Tell Soundwave to pass this message: Castillo has newly installed anti-aircraft batteries. All flying mechs, approach with caution!”
The words barely left his vocalizer when a thunderous explosion filled the air. Driven by panic, Orion scoured the skies for any trace of Megatron. His spark froze in terror as he spotted the silver mech, trailing smoke and in an uncontrolled dive.
“No!” he screamed, transforming. “I’m not losing you again!”
Engine howling with protest, Orion threw himself forward. He raced to catch the falling form. He would not, could not fail Megatron. No matter how angry Orion felt at him, Megatron’s life outweighed it.
Ten meters to impact and Orion still had astro-miles to cover. He coaxed more speed from his engine.
Megatron reached five meters and the younger mech remained too far away.
The silver form hit three meters as Orion poured his spark into the race.
Two meters and a mere five astro-miles away, and Orion’s velocity was at its peak. Perhaps it would be enough?
One meter... Impact!
Orion careened to a halt on the lip of Megatron’s impact crater. ‘We’re too close to Castillo. He can’t stay here to be treated,’ Orion thought desperately, looking for signs of serious injuries and spotting none.
Ignoring the risks to himself, Orion returned to robot mode and struggled to pull the larger mech from the hole. Megatron didn’t move.
In desperation, Orion slid partially under Megatron’s frame and transformed. Shunting full power to his anti-gravity units, Orion barely managed to free them from the crater. He crawled back towards the Decepticon lines, focusing entirely on his goal and the injured mech lying upon him. One thought running through his head, ‘Please be all right, Megatron. I need to apologize and to tell you… I want to be your mate.’
Megatron crawled back to painful awareness.
He remembered getting shot down by the batteries of Castillo. ‘So,’ he wondered, ‘am I in a medbay somewhere?’
Touch brought the expected sensations of agony and a medical bay repair berth.
His audios reported the sounds of a mech recharging by his berth.
Surprised, Megatron on-lined his optics immediately and ignored the slight disorientation it caused. Curled up in a chair beside his berth, Orion recharged peacefully. Megatron smiled at the sight. He reached out to stroke the younger mech’s face.
Orion awoke at his touch. The younger mech leaned into the hand engulfing his cheek.
“Hello, Orion,” Megatorn murmured.
“Hi,” Orion replied. He hesitated and mumbled, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and everything.”
“Apology accepted.” Megatron paused, studying the nervous young mech. “Orion, I’ve known you most of your life. I know when you’re trying to hide something. Go ahead and say it.”
Orion stared at the berth Megatron laid upon. “During our fight, I… I think you said something about enrolling in the mating fight for me. Is it true?”
“It is.” Vents heaving in a sigh, the silver mech added, “I told you I’d come back for you one orn. I intend to keep my word.”
Glancing at the older mech’s face, Orion nodded. “In that case, I have a question for you. How do we go about rigging my mating fight in your favor?”
A slow smile spread across Megatron’s face as Orion’s words sank in. It colored his tone as he spoke, “I’ll be glad to tell you, my mate.”
End
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Date: 2008-09-02 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-26 09:14 pm (UTC)I know you posted this a really long time ago, but could you maybe do a sequel? That would be awesome!!!
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Date: 2010-02-13 04:09 pm (UTC)(I'm still working on rewriting and expanding this story!)