"Be not afraid of greatness:
some are born great,
some achieve greatness,
and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."
When Megatron stepped into the cell he did a double take. He knew the rebel to be a young Iaconian, so the looks should not have caught him as surprise; but nevertheless, he did react to him, even though covering the reaction up fast so he hoped that only the ever watchful Shockwave was noticing it. The youth looked… well there were no two ways about it, gorgeous, even in his rather uncomfortable position and apparently quite a bit banged up by his ordeals. Covered in grime, scratches and dents he still looked every bit of a noble, with the characteristic finely detailed and brightly coloured armor that, unlike the ones most nobles wore actually looked practical as well as beautiful. The fine faceplates were obvious besides, just as the smallish stature that Iaconians usually had – although he was still taller than many of them. Megatron collected himself quickly; after all he reasoned with himself, it wasn't as though he hadn't seen such beautiful nobles bending their knees to him in subservience. This one was just one of them, no matter the looks. The prisoner looked at him straight with those entirely too calm, clear blue optics, obviously measuring him just as much as he was now; interested, curious, intelligent and hiding much from him at the same time – until the battle of the optics was broken by Megatron moving closer and addressing him.
"Sooo… you are Optimus."
"Sooo… you are Megatron" came the answer in a calm, cultured voice, with only a hint of his Iaconian accent.
"That would be 'Lord Megatron' for you" he retorted angrily.
"That would be 'Prince Optimus' for you then" came the haughty answer, with just a hint of disdain coloring it.
Megatron smirked at the obnoxiousness of the youngster before he continued.
"I would think that you have lost your right to that title, little one when you rebelled."
"I would think that you haven't gained a right for yours, gladiator." The voice was rather goading now, provoking almost, even as the youth's face betrayed no emotion whatsoever and continued to look at him calmly.
Megatron felt a sudden, hot anger at the provocation, but only for a nanoklik really before it was replaced by amusement and he laughed out loud – albeit with a threatening note in it.
"You seem to have a quick wit Optimus. Too bad you didn't have the intelligence not to rebel against me – or the prowess to succeed in it."
"I lack neither," came the unhesitant, not-quite proud, but rather self-assured answer "I only lacked the experience to wage a successful war against you – courtesy of my age."
"So you actually think that you could have overthrown me?"
"Not now, obviously. My eagerness to get Cybertron rid of you led me to act too soon and now…" a shrug of a shoulder accompanying the sentence, not betraying the ache it caused to the straining joint - "now I will not have a chance to use your own methods against you."
"And what exactly is your particular complaint against my rule, if I might ask?" Megatron was almost amused by the young rebel who seemed quite serious in discussing his mistakes – from Shockwave's reports he knew that the other was at least a capable strategist and records proved him to be a warrior too despite of his smaller size.
"Aside from destroying what was built, giving free rein to violence and abuse, instituting madness in place of laws, and making yourself a dictator? Nothing else." Optimus's answer betrayed only a hint of anger that was stemming from personal reasons – he was not going to tell this mech how many of his friends perished under the smoking ruins of the Academy or the Towers who were far too young to have harmed or wronged anyone as he claimed – he prided himself on acting on reason and not emotions. "I do recognize that Cybertron was not perfect and change must have come but your methods were inacceptable… not that it matters now." He ended softly, for the first time pain flickering in those blue optics that Megatron couldn't quite place – it was obviously not physical.
"Do you think I haven't heard those arguments? Or haven't even thought them myself?"
"I don't take you for a fool." came the firm answer. "No matter if you thought of them you still acted on them – that makes them unacceptable."
"I doubt you could go about changing our lovely society any differently. Soft revolutions always go bad…"
"… and violent ones never do?"
The question hung between them, its sharp twang twisting in their audials, the argument bared down to its essentials, the rift between ideological differences shown clearly; and the interlocking optics, the fiery red ones and the cool blue ones knew that this difference would never disappear, no matter the amount of arguments they could all heap upon it… nevertheless, they tried.
"Power corrupts." concluded the youth with a grimace of using such a cliché "but it doesn't mean that power should be distributed randomly to those who cannot wield it."
"You are a noble – and it seems a snob too." Megatron was perfectly willing to give the youth the lead, letting him talk as he wished and observing him in the meanwhile – by now he was more than interested in him and decided to stop Soundwave from arranging the execution so they could argue more. At least for a while.
Optimus didn't seem to be offended but quite willing to elaborate: "Negative. I am if anything pragmatic. Merit should be the value by which people are judged, not lineages. That worked for a few thousand vorns because of selective breeding and training of families who could lead; but not since Cybertron has a population several magnitudes larger than when the system arose."
He was a clear-headed one then who could not only read history but draw consequences from it too; a rare talent. Megatron himself was never trained or taught about such things, only what knowledge he acquired himself, and so he knew that the far better educated youth could easily win such arguments if he chose to engage in them. But he was not interested in talking about history.
"Merit arises through competition and contest where all start with equal chances." It was him now who shrugged, having learned the value of competition in the arena "I give that chance to everyone now, even those who are lowborn by your reckoning."
"Doesn't worth slag if you don't give them the tools for being able to compete and the very nature of your system of ruthless advance on all fields precludes the making of mistakes. Second chances are apparently not your idea of a fair competition, thereby forcing people to use unfair tools, cheating and violence to achieve what they covet." came the angry retort as Optimus heated into the subject "That is not a kind of a merit that should be encouraged, because these methods do not heal society, only further wound it."
"I consider them as temporal, until the old system is completely broken down and…"
"…but by the time you want to build a new one, these values will be ingrained into people – the more so because they are apparently inherent in you too and so you show it by example."
Megatron was not used to being interrupted by anyone and the youngster was gaining an upper hand in the argument which was not to his liking either. Nor did he enjoy the stab at him personally, accusing him in that irritatingly circumspect way with dishonesty and cheating that was impossible to answer to. Having had enough of the conversation he closed it down with a tone allowing no argument:
"We will see if your predicament changes your views or not. Prison has a way of doing that as I observed."
As he stormed out of the cell a small laugh followed him that curiously stayed in his audials for the rest of the day, making him irritated and annoyed. His court was by now used to his moods changing often and so it didn't surprise them – but he felt Shockwave's analyzing glance at him many times that day. He was secretly glad that Soundwave was not around for a while – one observant and theoretically dangerous officer was enough around he decided. Not that he didn't trust those two, but still – they were among his oldest companions, privy to his secrets and he knew well that such secrets can be used against him should the circumstances demand it.
