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Title: Tyrant	By : Chaosdreamer Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2402 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Transformers and all recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I am making no profit writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
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CHAPTER FOUR
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'Oh holy Primus, almighty Unicron, and fragging to the Pit and back...'

Optronix woke with his helm pounding as if minicons ran amok inside with miniature blasters.

And, ohhhhhh, Primus... Not to mention his port...and his plug....

Everything ached so badly he feared he would never be able to move without cringing in agony. Or crawling around whimpering like a beaten puppy.

He attempts to shift his weight and roll over into a more comfortable position, relieving the aching pulse between both thighs.

'.........'

Primus, he really could not move!

Panic seizes CPU, and he somehow possessed the irrational fear that his body has fallen into paralysis. Optronix would have shot up like an online rocket if a firm weight were not currently planting him down, solid warmed metal lying flush against his back.

His optics flares bright, cataloguing the input in front of his screen. Almost a full cycle has passes since sitting and watching the horror of the Pit.

Then Megatron forcing the high-grade down his throat...
...What then? Megatron had carried him to the Decepticon's private rooms, right?

His neural processors struggled to recall the previous night's events beyond the Pit.

His head thrown back, his mouth muffling most of the cries into the depths of the plumped pillows. Hands rested on the silver mech's hips, slipping up and down with each slow roll.
Megatron's flesh is taut with tension, cables pushing against the metal cords and plates of his strong neck. Both hands are braced beside Optronix's helm, fingers digging into the berth's padding as he remained firm controlling each prolonged thrust.

"Don't offline on me this time." He growled, warning the red and blue mech as he sensed Optronix's vents working harder to cool his internal systems. "Or you'll never see another overload by the time this nightly cycle is through."

Optronix moans softly, humiliation draining his strength, horrified by the memories coming into focus from the previous cycle, remembering how easily he'd submitted yet again. His aching port and plug throb in unison, as if punishing him by explicitly reminding which exact parts had been mercilessly used and abused.

'Maybe a trip to the wash racks will help sooth the aches.' Optronix hopes. '...Maybe.'

The most difficult hurdle, however, covered the expanse of his back and the arm overlaid across his waist. Megatron's weight anchored the mech onto the berth, and during the past joors the moonshine sheets had worked into a frustrating tangle between his lower limbs.

When he attempts to slid forward and underneath the wide silver arm over his waist, Optronix was not surprised, but cursed balefully as the limb constricted, locking him in place.

Who knew? Megatron was an introverted cuddler. Would wonders ever cease?

He muttered a few choice words about Megatron and the noted tendency to wrap Optronix tight within his arms, peevishly wishing to perform a sharp, painful kick up the mech's aft. That would certainly coax the Decepticon into releasing him.

Finally forced to twist at a difficult angle, Optronix works both hands under Megatron's forearm, and pushes the limb up far enough to allow him a quick haphazard escape. He slipped away, freed, and in his haste nearly crashes onto the recharge-side floor.

Losing the warmth and bulk of his recharge partner, Megatron shifts and stretches further across the width of the recharge bed, but metal eyebrow ridges remain slack, and no hint of red burned from the depths of dimmed optics.

Not taking a chance, Optronix kept his back towards the private wash rack, slowly backing away from the recharge berth until he reaches the safety of the separated chamber. Relief hit as he found the door panel, and the metal barrier slid shut silently, barring entry.

The wash racks were grandiose, at best; more space and showerheads than necessary. Unlabeled bottles lined the length of a small metal shelf, cleaning and polishing fluids were his best guess.

He is hesitant, but opens several bottles, olfactory receptors taking in the thick rich emission of various scents. Optronix was not familiar with any of them, and simply wanted to be clean rather than worry about the proper applications and drying periods. A long rinse would suffice for now.

Once turning the proper crank, Optronix released a sigh of relief and bliss as a waterfall of hot water poured from the showerheads. Metal plates clack together loudly as he roughly performs a bodily shake, ensuring that water crept down to reach deeper, hard to approach crevices. Stubborn clumps of grit and dried lubricants soften, and slipped free from deep among metal panels, disappearing within the large swirling whirlpools of water, swallowed by the various drains.

Water pings down the length of his collarbone struts and spine, silver streams smoothing over hidden black cables and sensitive wiring. He initiates his transformation cog, but administered only a small touch, enough to allow for plates to reconfigure and split open wider, allowing the hot water to clean more difficult to reach areas.

It was completely selfish, but deliciously so, to spend nearly a full joor under the hot pouring rain of water and tapping the transformation cog several times to allow the shower to reach deeper. The water does an adequate job of polishing the surface of metal skin, adding light traces and depth into the etchings and crevices marking the ruby and sapphire plates.

Reluctantly, deciding that he had spent enough time and wasted plenty of water, Optronix shuts the showerheads off. Taking a moment before finding the proper commands and button sequence, he turns on the dryers, hot air buffeting his sides, back, and front. Within minutes he is completely dried, skin humming from the pleasant heat remaining from the dryers.

Not entirely enthusiastic, dreading what awaited outside the chamber, Optronix releases the lock upon the wash rack's door. He is completely surprised, however, to find that Megatron remained upon the broad recharge berth, chest still but internal cogs and components working softly as the large mech continued inside the quiet womb of deep recharge.

Like a thief, Optronix slunk around the berth, making his way for the main door. Vents released a gust of gratification when successfully exiting the private chambers, confidently striding into the main rooms.

Before seizing the opportunity to explore the rooms, Optronix started in surprise when the main entry doors chimed, indicating a caller. Helm twisting left and right, towards Megatron's private rooms, and the main entry doors, which release another patient chime, Optronix decides that the Decepticon would not be rising just yet to admit his guest.

Etiquette demanded a response, and Optronix its captive, approaches the doors, pressing the panel to open and allow admittance.

The doors unlock, and Optronix takes a cautionary step back, and then another once catching sight of an unfamiliar mech waiting on the opposite side of the threshold.

The mech is a shoulder and helm taller than Optronix, entire body painted with a rich purple coat of paint. On his left hand — in the place of the actual hand — a formidable blaster was mounted into the wrist and forearm. Instead of a usual mech's face and optics, black hexagonal screen stares back at the smaller startled mech, a respectable sized yellow optic glowing across the monitor's surface. Screen and purple helm balanced upon a strong neck, as the mech performs a small perusal of the room at Optronix's back. The optic flickered back to peer at Optronix. "Megatron, Still In Recharge?"

"A-ah." He stuttered, his composure scattering in front of his optics, processor sensors akimbo within the mech's presence. Just when he had thought that Soundwave was a peculiar yet intimidating mech...This mech fell into a league entirely his own. His presence touched a primeval section of Optronix's logic chips, instincts shivering, warning that this mech was a dangerous predator, Optronix prey that had yet to capture his attention. "Y-Yes. M-Megatron hasn't come out of recharge yet...And I don't know when he will."

Yellow optic dimmed, before flaring bright. "Acknowledged." The mech confirmed. "I Will Wait."
'Wait? Wait here?'

"I won't disturb you, then." Optronix moved aside to allow the other mech a wider passageway in order to gain access inside the room. The stranger took it as his due, striding past the smaller mech. Optronix stands in place on the mech's previous spot on the other side of the threshold.

"Consort?"

'Hmm?' He suddenly realizes that the stranger is speaking to him. Optronix looked back over his shoulder, startled by the question. "Wha?" He asked eloquently.

"And Where Will You, Consort, Go?" The mech clarified patiently.

'Consort...' Optronix couldn't shake the complete stupefaction caused by that particular designation, shoulders quaking like a dog trying to rattle free an annoying flea. 'Just what I need. That sort of degrading designation!'

"Um..." Clearing his tracheal cable, and inwardly kicking himself over continual persistence in repeatedly stumbling over his words. "For...for a walk. I'll leave you and Megatron alone to talk."

"Intention Acknowledged." Taking a seat at the round meeting table on the left side of the room, his optic never leaves Optronix as the red and blue archivist/consort made a hasty retreat, sealing the door shut as he took off down the corridor, fleeing the proverbial demons at his heels.

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'And once again, I have managed through sheer foul luck and too many wrong turns...to get lost within the deepest corridors of this base.'

If he keeps this trend up, Optronix would not put it past Megatron to snap on a collar and latch a chain together to keep track of the red and blue mech.

Trying to remain optimistic, Optronix has to admit relief that he came across very few Decepticon guards during his campaign to lose all sense of coordination and direction. A wandering mech with no appropriate destination would certainly catch their attention, and Optronix knew the likely outcome: swiftly returned and hastily deposited into Megatron's quarters once the security mechs determine his identity.

Optronix swept around another corner, and again found no signs of any guards. 'This is a bit strange.' He wondered, CPU growing increasingly worried by the unusual lack of Decepticons, let alone any mechs, stepping carefully into the connecting corridor. 'There is a distinct lack of guards. Are the sentries being concentrated in other areas? If so, then for what reasons?'

There were no security camera lens visible, but Optronix would not rely on that guaranteeing the presence, or lack thereof, of any monitoring systems. No sentry drones, either, were attending to the security of the lower levels...

...Strange, and increasingly stranger.

No threat was present, but Optronix felt unusually edgy. He could not shake the feeling that he is missing a very vital piece of information.

"Optronix!" A hushed voice hissed from behind.

Optronix nearly attaches to the ceiling, startling like a feline having its tail tread upon, "Gahh!"

"Optronix!" Louder, voice rising.

"Ariel?" He spun around. Blinking in confusion at the sight of the femme under a limp body and struggling under an equally limp arm. Ariel struggles, barely capable of supporting a familiar red and white mech sporting an uncountable number of metal plates and staples keeping dermal skin sealed together, but dots of diluted energon seeped from the seams of the medical compresses. "Ratchet?!" Optronix turned optics towards the femme. "Ariel! He is too badly injured! What are you thinking? It isn't safe that he's moving around!"

"I can't leave him." Ariel refused to concede, struggling to prevent Ratchet from slipping off her shoulder. "Frag!" She curses sharply. "I wanted to try and get Blaster and Red Alert as well, hoping that at least one of them could help me carry him to safety, but I can't find either of them!"

He released a deep huff of frustration, irritated by Ariel's lack of planning and thought into her actions, causing the Autobot medic to pay further for her disregard. "Just—" Optronix stepped forward, not listening to her sputters of indignation. "Just give him to me, Ariel!" He snaps, finally past the threshold of patience that he possessed. "I'll carry him. There's too much height and weight difference between you; the only thing you're doing is aggravating his injuries."

"I have to get him out of here." She is persistent, while helping Optronix shift Ratchet's weight against his side.

"What about everyone else?" Optronix demands, while frantically wrapping an arm around Ratchet's waist. The medic groaned weakly, eyebrows furrowing in pain, moaning as his wounds are aggravated further. "There are others here...did you plan to simply leave them?"

"I don't have a choice!" Ariel bites back impatiently. "I can't save everyone, Optronix. I had to choose whom I could save. Ratchet is a valuable medic, and I wish I had been able to find Blaster and Red Alert. A communications expert and security director would be incredible accessories to the Autobot forces."

"This isn't about values and numbers, Ariel!" Optronix would have reared back in anger, if not currently fearing what the motion would do to worsen Ratchet's injuries. "These are lives that you're dismissing!"

"This is a war, Optronix." She refused to back down, even for her lover, even under the weight of his abhorrence and animosity. "Sacrifices must be made."

"If you truly believe that," Optronix stares her down, blue optics no longer the mech's she knew, a cold-hearted stranger meeting her. "Then you are no better than a Decepticon."

His condemnation leaves Ariel noticeably rattled, her Spark freezing at his frigid condemnation. "What--What did you say?" She stutters, in disbelief at what he has just said.

"You preach of the Autobots as if they stand above the rest, protecting the weak and guarding their compatriots." Optronix growled, "Like the Autobots are the saviors, mystical beings falling from the heavens to save our city. When in fact, like any organized army, the only thing in front of your optics is victory, no matter how many need to be sacrificed for one single petty slap to the Decepticons' faces."

"No..." Ariel shook her helm, refusing to believe. "That's not true..."

"Maybe," Optronix murmurs beneath his intake. "Maybe I'm wrong." He admits. "After all, from what I've witnessed, the Decepticons aren't so cruel that they'll lead mechs with blatant false hopes simply to abandon them like obsolete parts. Instead they hand down judgment and yet give captives the explicit choice of submission or a fight in the Pit."

"The Decepticons would sentence them to death..." Ariel argues softly.

"But Decepticons don't lie, smiling assuredly while holding a sharp blade behind their back. Decepticons are bluntly, brutally honest. There is no falsification with their opponents sentenced to death. It is their job, their duty to punish and execute. They don't allude to anything else otherwise."

"Hmm." Processor sensors curl in terror, Optronix freezes, recognizing the distinct low mechanical voice. "Correct. However, On Some Occasions..."

Appearing like a phantom behind Ariel, the femme too startled to move or make any noticeable sounds of fright, the purple mech shoved the blaster of his left hand against the smooth temple of the smaller pink mech's helm.

"Sometimes Decepticons Aren't Too Opposed To Unnecessary Violence." The mech intones.

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"No, wait." Optronix pleads free hand waving in surrender. He holds Ratchet to his side, protecting the injured medic by turning to shield his fragile form. "Don't fire!"

A fine tremble wracks Ariel, optics wide as the barrel of the blaster pushes against her helm. "Op-Optronix..."

"Hush, Ariel." Optronix cuts her off. "Do not move or make a sound."

She bites her lip, struggling to acquiesce to his command and not induce the Decepticon to respond to her adverse movement and automatically fire.

"Ariel..." Another voice rises from behind him.

Optronix looks over his shoulder, optics meeting the familiar face of red mech from Soundwave's labs. Blaster.

Soundwave stood at the mech's shoulder, hand resting on the red one's collarbone strut. "Blaster Intercepted Femme's Beacon, Signaling Autobots For Immediate Evac. Informed Me Of Femme's Movement. And I Informed Shockwave Of Your Confiscation Of His Medic."

'So the puzzle pieces fall into place.' Optronix looks back towards the mech holding Ariel hostage. 'He is Shockwave. Another highly dangerous mech serving Megatron.'

"..how could you.." Ariel's face reflects her hurt at Blaster's betrayal. The red mech flinches under the femme's disbelief and disappointed optics.

Blaster's chin drops to his chest. "I'm so sorry..." He whispers, struggling to form the correct words to explain. "I can't...I have no choice..."

"Blaster: Under My Command. Under Lord Megatron's Command." Soundwave taps the center of the mech's chest, drawing attention to the faint Decepticon insignia burned into the cassette cover. "Reformatted To Follow His Superiors. And To Serve As My Right Hand."

"Reformatted in order to shackle him to you, is more like it!" Ariel spat. "You forced him into playing the role of your slave."

"Always Aware Of His Skills And Future Potential." Soundwave was unfazed by the venom in her voice, but a little intrigued by her incredulity. "Why Wouldn't I Seize The Opportunity To Acquire?"

"Enough." Shockwave intercepts before Ariel launches her rant further. He pushes between her shoulder blades, forcing her to circle around his bulk. "Megatron Awaits. Demands To Know Severity Of The Femme's Insurrection."

"To Megatron's Private Chambers, Then?" Soundwave asks.

"Incorrect." Shockwave denies. "To The Court."

Shockwave prods Ariel to continue moving when she automatically halts, balking at being forced to hold audience before the Decepticon leader. "If You Try To Escape," The mech warns coldly, driving the cold barrel of the blaster into the small of her back, "You Will Not Make It Four Meters."

Optronix had sensed that their luck would fail, CPU beginning preparations for this possible outcome. Now that it was happening, during this exact moment in time, the fear and dread left the dry taste of ash in his mouth.

"Consort." He jerked around, grip remaining firm around Ratchet when Soundwave steps forward to stand on the injured mech's opposite side. Soundwave's red visor met nervous blue optics. "You Will Also Have To Answer For Your Role."

'Was there any doubt of that?' He wonders, offering no resistance, not making any inclination to disprove his part in Ariel's plan for escape. Blaster moves to Optronix's other flank, following Soundwave's lead as the Decepticons begin their escort to their destination to await hearing and judgment. 'This would explain why there was a lack of security. Some time ago, they learned of Ariel's intent. Rather than strike immediately, they wished to see and analysis the severity of her insurrection. All they had to do was provide her the opportunity, sit back, and wait.'

"It's okay to be afraid." Blaster whispers and Optronix turns his head minutely towards him, patiently awaiting the mech to continue. "Megatron...you...you're his...Consort. He may not...he may not punish you...maybe...um..." The mech could not connect his words, unable to offer further comfort.

"It's okay." Optronix finds himself taking on the role of consoling the communications expert, "I knew what outcomes I could face if we were caught in the act."

Beyond that certainty and acceptance, Optronix feels fear seize his Spark, coating internal components in sharp shards of ice.

'However, Megatron will probably make certain that I regret being given Spark.' Regardless of his dubious relationship with the Decepticon leader, simply being the mech's interfacing partner would not exempt him from Megatron's tender mercy.

As Megatron has portrayed before time and again during the battles waged within the fortresses of Cybertron's vast metropolises, mercy was not his forte, seemingly nowhere instituted into his formatting, and nor would he spare any for mechs who dare to initiate an act of betrayal.

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The Court was the designated room for the trials of mechs who have fallen beneath Megatron's disfavor. Judgment and execution assigned in this room.

Broad ceiling rise high above, roof dotted with bright ceiling lights. The chamber, large and oval, with no seats available except for the replica of Megatron's throne, from the viewing platform over the Pit, sitting on a raised dais.

Megatron sits upon the solitary seat, optics burning, but says nothing while the entourage escorts Optronix and Ariel into the chamber. Right elbow upon the arm of the throne, chin and face supported as he stares down at the mechs' arrival. The black barrel of the large gun on his arm shines under the lights, glossed paint containing the dangerous destructive firepower of the frightening weaponry.

Optronix is quick to sooth the small sounds of pain Ratchet releases when the red and blue mech's shoulders flinch at the sound of the large metal doors slamming shut behind them, movement unsettling the injured medic. Warm energon slips beneath the palm of his hand and arm stretched around Ratchet's waist, seeping from a metal plate ripped free from its welding.

"Give Him To Me." Shockwave is suddenly there, stepping in front of him, indicating with a motion of his right arm for Optronix to follow his command.

Optronix knew that he could − would not − offer no further resistance; Ratchet was in desperate need of repairs, more than he could ever hope to provide. "His wound is bleeding again." It wasn't entirely necessary to inform the mech as he slid Ratchet into Shockwave's possession, but Optronix's worry compels him.

"Shockwave," Megatron summons the mech's attention, not blind to the fresh stains of energon dotting the floor, seeping from the Autobot's wounds. "Will your medic survive?" He inquires.

Shockwave's head nods, as he bowed down to slip Ratchet's arm over his shoulders. "Confirmed. Recovery Is Delayed Further, However, By Femme's Handling. I Will Need More Time Before He Is Adequately Repaired."

Megatron nods in satisfaction and Shockwave takes it as indication for his leave. He exits the Court, carrying his injured burden, role already played out in locating and retrieving the insurgents inside the Decepticon base.

Optronix wiped ineffectively at the energon drying along his side from Ratchet's reopened wounds. His hand trembles violently, upset stirring his compactor from the amount of fluids that the medic had bled, indicating his dire state. Optronix silently prays that his and Ariel's roles would not insure that Ratchet would soon join Primus himself. 'Please forgive me, Ratchet.' Optronix begs. 'Instead of helping, I only caused you more agony.'

Both he and Ariel instinctively look up when the main doors suddenly slid open, assuming, for some unapparent reason, that it was Shockwave returning for some reason.

Starscream bulldozes into the Court, optics automatically locking on, narrowing down on the pink and white femme. "You..." He snarls in fury.

"Ahh. Starscream," Megatron's greeting is aloof, not appearing affected by the Seeker's raised ire. "No problems during your reconnaissance mission, I see." He says, seamlessly switching the topic regardless of the mech's intense focus upon the slim femme.

Blaster, realizing he was the only thing between the Seeker and unobstructed access further into the interior of the Court's chamber, immediately hustles out of his way, retreating to safety, sensing the impending malevolence preparing to crash down upon them.

Ariel takes a step back, startled by the Seeker's murderous focus.

"Little bitch!" Starscream roared, leaping at the femme, hands searching for a vulnerable throat.

"NO!" Soundwave is far swifter, catching him by the shoulders, preventing the mech from causing permanent damage to the prisoner. "They Still Await Lord Megatron's Judgment." The mech struggles to hold Starscream back and ceasing the femme's functions.

"Frag that!" Starscream spits, fighting mad. He tries to close the distance between him and the femme bot, fingers dragging wildly at the air separating them. "You knew what she was attempting to do! She got her filthy hands on Shockwave's pet, and I return and learn that she had her optics sighted on Red Alert, not to mention your mech as well!"

"Efforts Were Useless At Best." Soundwave counters calmly during his struggles to contain the Seeker. "Once Blaster Confirmed The Distress Beacon, Shockwave Informed Lord Megatron, And Agreed That Red Alert Would Remain Under Starscream's Wingmates' Guard, Along With The Mech, Perceptor." Soundwave informs, seeking to sooth the mech's deadly raised ire. Starscream's exertions calm, but only slightly. Soundwave quickens to continue his explanation, seizing the opportunity before Starscream's infamous temper corrupts his logic boards. "Blaster Was Unaffected And Not Swayed By The Femme's Influence Since He Was Constantly In My Presence. Ratchet Was The Only Mech Seized During Shockwave's Absence While Meeting With Lord Megatron."

Starscream halts his resistance, shortly appeased by Soundwave's report. "...Fine." He concedes, although his face remained sullen due to the other Decepticon's interception that prevented him from placing harm onto the femme's person.

"Are you ready to collect yourself?" Megatron demands, watching the struggles, while calmly waiting for the Seeker to regain his wits. When Starscream nods his consent, the Decepticon leader continues, "Now, then. I have heard from Shockwave and Soundwave about the recent events that have transpired. What I want to know, now, however, is how far each of these mech's roles extends."

Optronix, standing a bit away and to the side from Ariel, peered up in silent inquest towards the Decepticon leader, but the mech's optics and pinched facial components reveals nothing.

"Soundwave." The mech steps forward at Megatron's summons.

"Sir?"

"Do it."

"Acknowledged." Soundwave approaches Ariel, and before the femme can snap at the mech or step away, the Decepticon grasps the sides of her helm between his hands.

Ariel starts, body snapping as if an electric current ran up from the floor, up her limbs, to stutter and disassemble processor and mainframe memory banks. She gasps weakly, knee joints slackening, but remained within the mech's clutches, blue hands the only prevention keeping her from spilling onto the ground.

'Of course.' Optronix realizes. 'Soundwave is a telepath. He can easily sift through her memory banks, extracting all necessary files and memory logs as he sees fit.'

Far more quickly than Optronix would have anticipated, Soundwave suddenly releases the femme, and this time she does collapse onto the floor into a tangled heap. Her optics are tightly shuttered, frame wracked by long sweeping shivers. The telepath used little finesse or coaxing while drifting through her memory banks, deciding not to waste the effort on the slim insurgent.

Blaster shudders in sympathy, possessing experience as a frequent recipient under Soundwave's hands when he had once been far more resistant towards the mech's attentions, refusing to bow to the Decepticon's cold demands to dissolve his ties with the Autobots and accept the Decepticon insignia.

"As Confirmed." Soundwave rubs his hands together, wiping away any residue from contact with the femme. He allows a brief examination over the femme's trembling form, ascertaining that she was still intact. "Femme Serves The Autobots, While Not Yet Among Their Ranks. Seeked To Acquire And Return Specialized Officers To the Autobot Forces In Hopes Of Ensuring Victory In Future Campaign In Iacon."

"I see." Megatron raised his chin, nodding in Optronix's direction. "Continue."

Optronix expected that his turn would follow. He cannot help but want to retreat but forces his body to stand tall and remain strong.

As Soundwave's hands stretch forward, sliding over the blue paint of his helm, Optronix wishes that his trembling Spark could match the solidity and fortitude of the willpower keeping him in place.

Soundwave's presence slips through the corridors of his main frame, tapping along the edges of his CPU. Oil treading upon water, the Decepticon's presence swiftly mapped the looping maze of corridors, swiftly reading the overlay of memory banks and various files.

A slap of frigid water slaps into his facial plates, rivulets showering down his insides. He hunches over, hands rising to overlap the Decepticon's fingers, helplessly attempting to pry the grip upon his helm free.

"A Bit Stronger Than The Femme." Soundwave notes aloud. "He Is Forcing Me To Extend More Effort."

"I want that information, Soundwave," Megatron stands, moving down, taking the steps of the dais. "Regardless of how his fortitude compares to the femme." He halts his approach at the bottom of the short flight of stairs.

"As You Wish." Soundwave's hands flex minutely beneath Optronix's.

Invisible talons snap down, seizing his processors. A low painful moan escapes, blue optics flicker with static. A low roar, an ocean pushing waves to crash against the shore of his mainframe.

Claws flex, and begin twisting.

His legs give out, knees hitting the floor. He screams, certain that energon is boiling from his optics and spilling from the vessel of his mouth. The pain is beyond anything he has ever experienced, rending his flesh down to metal struts and frame. He could cease to exist this very moment, and it would be a blessing from Primus.

Sharp nails clack along the row of files, prodding the necessary images and conversations shared and exchanged between his close friends. Perceptor's face swims in front of blue optics, before fading as silently and as quickly as it had arose.

"Momentary Contact With Mech: Perceptor." Knelt down, propping the red and blue mech up to pause imminent collapse, Soundwave interprets the information he is receiving. "Shared Events In Faon, And Roles While Inside This Base. Nothing Connected To Autobots, Besides Status Of Prisoners."

The memory file was sealed shut once more, and the sharp fingers continued in search of more information.

"No more.." Optronix pleads, but the presence punches deeper. Text runs across optical screens, and warning bars flare, detecting Soundwave's encroachment and identifying that the invader was pushing further through his processor.

Another memory files snaps open, and Ariel's face melts up from the darkness.

"Ariel." Soundwave turns his helm, the visor shortly landing upon the curled femme. "The Femme Insurgent."

He turns away, redirecting focus back onto Optronix, returning to his scans, "Accessing Further Information."

An electrical cloud swamps his mainframe. Body quivering, wrapped tight in a seizure, Optronix's optic screens roll between sapphire and ebony, reacting towards the internal chaos as safety protocols and firewalls collapse under Soundwave's physical fingertips and incorporeal hands sifting through the sea of files.

The loud roar of the ocean of static fills his audio receptors. Emergency shut down engaged, remaining systems locking shut around the intruder.

In the distance, he could make out voices swimming beyond his peripheral hearing.

Ariel was calling for him, screaming for Optronix to online his optics, begging him to hold on and keep fighting.

He wished that he possessed any remaining fortitude to do just that.

Soundwave's voice overlapped the femme's, spilling over the last few systems finishing lockdown.

"Data Acquired."

As rapidly as his systems were deteriorating around the enemy, engaging emergency shut down procedures and locking codes, everything suddenly snapping back into focus, optic screen wiped clean. He sensed the world tilting, but all he was able to make out was a void of darkness that held no floor or ceiling.

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Optics, reluctantly, pushed by a great force of endurance, manage to return online. Optronix stares up at the ceiling lights, dully noting the penetrating burn of the fluorescent brightness. Vents work hard, coaxing coolants to flood overheated motor and inner components.

Soundwave is leaning over him, speaking directly to Megatron while he checks over Optronix's status, ascertaining the extent of the mech's fatigue. Optronix catches every third word or so, but from what he can deduce Soundwave is reporting that Ariel was the main conspirator, leading Optronix into her mad scheme for escape with small hopes and their relationship as close associates. 'No...I'm not innocent.' He tries to disagree with the telepath's assessment of Optronix's memory banks, but his glossa won't cooperate. 'I played an equal role to hers. Don't punish her for both of our roles.'

Nothing in his body was cooperating. Functions prove haywire at best or none-existent at worst. Optronix's body is lethargic...Heavy. He felt like he had been beaten with a large metal beam, and half-anticipated to find deep cracks and scuffs upon his metal skin.

Blue hand presses to his cheek, using touch to determine if any increase in temperature was occurring at a dangerous level, "He Is Weakened, But Intact," Soundwave informed his leader.

"It was expected." Megatron is a distant observer, watching Optronix struggle to prevent cold rippling shudders to control his frame, reacting to the shock of Soundwave's invasion. The red and blue mech does not refuse the telepath's assistance in pulling him up into a more comfortable sitting position, although he wobbles noticeably.

Blaster is immediately beside the mech, murmuring words of encouragement and praise as Optronix slowly begins to command his body to cease its trembling, inner auditory receptors working into their proper configuration to prevent stimulation similar to seasickness. Center of gravity returned and the room no longer spinning.

Ariel rose to her feet like a drunkard, swaying dramatically towards the left before catching her unbalanced weight. "Optronix?" She approaches, desperate to check that the mech did not suffer permanent damage from the telepath's assault.

She does not make it far.

Megatron's right arm swings around, black rim of the cannon barrel cracking against Ariel's face.

Optronix's cry of surprise matches the femme, but the pain is entirely her possession. One optic shatters when met with the brutal impact, a black groove marring one side of her face, crushing the cheek plate and metal bone.

Ariel falls to both knees before Megatron, bowed over hands clutching at the crushed side of her face. "Conspiring against me; seeking to flee from this base, while severing prisoners from their bonds. Instigating rebellion among mechs taken as concessions during war, and leading my Consort to assist in a break for freedom.”

"Have I missed anything?" He asks, metal foot bumping against her knee. "Well?" He demands an answer. The black barrel of the cannon rises above the femme, a large scythe preparing to strike downwards.

Shards of optical glass sprinkle the ground, Ariel's fingers threaded with clear lubricants and glowing energon streams. The other intact optic glares back at the Decepticon leader, shoulders rigid in making ready for another cruel blow.

"Silence noted." Megatron lowers his right arm, and Ariel's shoulders relax. "It provides enough of an answer."

Without warning, the same metal boot shoots forward, burying into Ariel's metal midsection. The force lifts the slim body, and sends her helplessly flying backwards.
The farthest wall halts her helm and back; she cries out in pain, arms curling weakly around the injured waist, reacting too late to the blow.

"No!" Blaster begs him to stay down and away, but Optronix sways onto his feet, not too far from Megatron as the mech moves closer to add another blow. "Megatron, please stop!" Optronix covers the distance separating them, in desperation wrapping his arms around the Decepticon's left.

"She can't stand up and fight against you!" Optronix holds on tight and Megatron pauses, for the moment. "Why continue this brutality when she is unable to properly face you?"

The Decepticon sneers down at him, fangs reflecting in upturned optics. "You expect any different when I find an terrorist within my base? Within my domicile?" He chides the smaller mech's naiveté.

"She is one single, lonely femme." Optronix is desperate to come up with enough to stall Megatron's wrath. Ariel makes a small sound of anger at Optronix's words, but he is willing to say and do anything to prevent her from falling further under the Decepticon's hands. "Why allow this puny, insignificant being to gain the better of you by inciting such intense reactions?"

Megatron, far from persuaded, but his pause gives Optronix encouragement.

"Why exterminate her?" Optronix asks, beseeching Megatron's to wait and think before his next action. "It would be a waste. Instead, make her an example. Show everyone that you do not allow terrorists to be ignored, and they are at your mercy. You rule this planet with an iron fist, and could squeeze at any time and suffocate them until their last intake."

He was working in favor with Megatron's ego, and the soothing tones appeared effective. The Decepticon's chest swelled, shoulders rising taller as he responded to Optronix reverent speech about the mech's strength and authority.

"She is damaged, and will never forget the result of her actions. Do not deactivate or waste your precious time attending to her punishment. Instead, tuck her away, where no one may find her. But keep her alive, so that no one will be able to ignore the stories about the terrorist who dared to stand before the leader of the Decepticons." Optronix works quickly, throwing out any excuse or reasoning which may possible save Ariel.

Megatron makes a undertone sound of consideration, contemplating, optics raking the femme's injured frame, returning to stare down at the red and blue mech reasoning fervently for her survival.

Starscream's face twists in disgust, and disappointment, eagerly watching while the femme had her aft personally handed down by Megatron. It would appear that she would manage to snake her way out of this one.

Blaster looked torn between horror at Optronix's desperate words to barter for Ariel's life, but elated that the mech's voice held some power over the Decepticon. Perhaps it would be enough.

Soundwave, for his part, decides that one last bit of information would need to be revealed before Megatron made his final decision. "A Moment, Lord Megatron?"

"Yes, what is it?" Megatron is unwilling to shift his focus, but an inquiry from the Decepticon telepath has never failed to be of importance.

"Consort and Femme's Relationship Is Deeper Than First Conceptualized."

When Optronix flinches noticeably against the length of his arm, Megatron scowls, conceiving a relationship between the mech's unintentional gesture and mention of the Autobot sympathizer, red optics narrowing, burning down upon the femme. "Well?" The leader snaps.

Soundwave raised a hand, pressing down upon the release switch upon his collarbone strut. "Laserbeak." He summoned.

The action was quick, and once the cassette casing opens, it remains that way long enough for its inhabitant to escape, before slamming and locking tightly shut. A cassette shoots out instantly when the compartment opens, and Optronix optics widen when the red and black aviated mech unfolded from its alt form. Performing a sharp somersault, the small mech looped upwards to land upon Soundwave's other shoulder, red optics glaring balefully at the room surrounding him.

"Recording 2719." Soundwave commands, directing the small mech to proceed.

Laserbeak's red optics shone hot, answering his master's command. A loud click, and red beams flared from its optics, converging and forming a bright red live 3D image.

Optronix stared back at his red twin cast in the laser painted image, reflection frozen in front of the telepath.

"Initiate Recording."

Another sharp click and his twin began to move in a scripted fashion from the previous cycle. Optronix's twin turned sharply, looking over his shoulder as another red image, a smaller, slimmer mech, quickly approached his position.

'Oh no, oh no, oh no...'

He sensed where this episode headed, but knew there was no way around it. Facing it head on, a pedestrian watching the runaway truck fill his range of vision.

Ariel's red twin collided with Optronix's, throwing her arms around the mech's shoulders and neck.

A low, trembling shudder rocks Megatron's frame. The silver chest rattled with a slow growing growl, low pulse rising with every astrosecond.

When Ariel's figure rose up onto the tips of her feet to connect their mouths, Megatron spun away from the image with an almighty roar that shook the rafters. Starscream stumbles backwards under the force of the titanic howl of fury, nearly upending onto his aft.

Soundwave calmly orders the recording shut off, the message successfully relayed. Laserbeak switches into his alt. mode, and slides into the safe confines of his master's cassette casing, his role effectively performed and done.

"You..."

Optronix scrabbles at the black fingers and palm suddenly encasing his throat, esophageal tube whining beneath the brutal pressure. "M-Meg—" Unable to choke the mech's name.

"This is why you are putting forth such vehement efforts of protection." Megatron snarls, shaking the smaller mech roughly, so hard his head bobs back and forth upon a tautly stretched neck. "Primus help that anything should happen to your precious lover." The Decepticon sneers at the last word, fury pouring red flames from his optics, tattoos dragging sharp burning red fangs down his cheeks.

Megatron whips around, snapping Starscream to attention. "Starscream!"

The Seeker snaps straight, saluting his leader. "Sir?!"

"Since our little terrorist has had so much energy to waste on her useless endeavors..." Megatron turns cold optics towards the wounded femme. "Perhaps we can help exhaust her feverish attempts of resistance by allowing her to distract our young Decepticon ground troopers."

Starscream's face fell in shock, before pulling wide in a grin of delight, widening when catching Ariel's small stutter of surprise. "What do you have in mind, Lord Megatron?" He asks eagerly.

"The soldiers who were at the front of the line during the Faon invasion," Megatron supplies, "Give the femme to them. Instruct them that she is to provide entertainment, as a reward for their labor during the previous campaign."

"With pleasure, my Lord," Starscream bows deep and then is spinning around and approaching Ariel as she struggles to rise to her feet. "Get up, worm! You heard your Lord. On your pedes! The soldiers await!"

"No!" Ariel is too weak to produce notable struggle, but she beats at Starscream's chest in an attempt to keep him at bay.

"No!" Optronix gasps, air stolen by his exclamation. Fingers dig at the seams between silver plates, beseeching the mech to reconsider. "Meg-Megatron..." Wheezing past the tightened grip.

'Ariel!!' He cries out soundlessly as the femme is drug away heels slipping across the floor as Starscream pulls her by the back of her neck. "Optronix!" Her screams cut short as the doors fall back into place, slamming shut.

"Soundwave!" Megatron barks.

"Sir?"
"Your suggestion from long ago?" Soundwave nods in affirmation, in clear understanding. "Bring the proper tool to my quarters at once."

"As You Wish." Soundwave motions for Blaster to follow, the red mech jumping to his feet, looking torn about leaving Optronix, but is ultimately helpless and finally follows the telepath from the Court's chambers.

TBC
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Title: Tyrant