This chappie is beta'd by camfield whom I thank deeply for putting up with my deranged grammar and punctuation. No matter what you say Cam, I know you must have had to use a chainsaw at some point.
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Snapshot 01: Megatron and maintenance time
Megatron wakes up early. He pretty much always does, even though he doesn't necessarily have to. He's the leader of the whole Decepticon army, but the base itself runs on auto-pilot most days, so if he actually wanted to be a joor late in the command center, he could. He doesn't because, well, rolling around in the metal sheets just doesn't happen in the mind of tyrant powerhouses.
His systems power up relatively fast, so by the time he is in the wash racks, he is fully awake. He turns on the tap and lets the solvent wash over him as he picks up a cloth to scrub between his armor plates. He generally starts at the upper portion of his chassis so the solvent with sediments doesn't flow over already cleaned areas. Helm, shoulders, arms, torso and legs. Not always in perfect order, but the routine is so automatic he wouldn't have noticed if someone pointed this fact out (nor cared, most likely).
His wash rack is quite simple, like the rest of his personal quarters. No fancy polishes or waxes lining the ledges, nor cleaning drones to do the work for him, just maintenance products and a stack of clean cloths. It is quite a bit bigger than the one he had used once in Kaon, but the austerity of the room had followed him to the Victory. Even as hypocrisy has tainted most of his speech, he never demanded luxury when he could have, something he takes a strangely fierce pride in.
Still, in spite of his usual impatience, he takes some time to finish. Not only because his frame is rather big (every mech has those hard to reach plates. Probably, even Unicron would, if he ever tried bathing), but also because vorns do take their toll.
Hook makes sure Megatron's maintenance sessions are textbook perfect in every sense, but no matter how many replacements and calibrations are made, the truth is that Megatron is old, and old comes with rubber cable-joints wearing down, and having scars and little crannies where dust settles in and facilitates rust formation.
So the mighty leader of half the Cybertronian population scrubs down thoroughly, because rust is rust.
Also, because it is a moment to think.
The rest of his day is spent listening to other mecha, and acting upon it. He must hear Starscream endless list of complaints, the Construction's progress in their current project, Soundwave's reports on Autobot activity (and on what every other Decepticon in-base has been doing), Motormaster's latest apology for failing yet again... On top of that, there are datapads with reports from half the base that need to be sorted out, more projects to be approved, more treason plots to be squashed, rinse and repeat, times infinite.
There is no time to ponder and, as much as Megatron makes use of a practical 'solving problems with a cannon' attitude, he still needs at least some time to think on his own.
Sometimes he uses the precious kliks to tweak the last details on the next Autobot-mauling strategy. Sometimes he reflects on how things will become once the Prime is defeated. Sometimes he plays a memory file in his hud, just to enjoy the instant of calm before the storm that is ruling over head quarters the size of a small city.
Then there is nothing else to do but turn the faucets off, and stand under the dryer until all the moisture is gone.
He subspaces a gun (always handy, cannon or no cannon) and a few other items he never uses but he still keeps about him (Emergency medi-kit. Also always handy, cannon or no cannon). He exits his room, locking it swiftly behind him, and walks away towards the Command Center.
His day begins.
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Cheers =D