Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you had lovely holidays, and that you are full of energy and positive feelings to face this newborn 2013. Don't forget to always have a cube of high grade in your fuel tanks ;o)

Okay, this is my first update of the year. The first of many, as I have a bunch of chapters already written for this and other of my stories.

This will be the first of a series of three chapters – title borrowed, of course, from the G1 episode 'Five faces of darkness' – that will address the important evolution some of the characters are going through after their reprogramming.

Many thanks to my beta reader iratepirate for taking the time to revise this and the following chapter before going overseas. Luv ya, hun!

Chapter 10

Five faces of shame

Part one

Motormaster

He had always despised words made of cardboard, stepping over terms such as goodness or evilness the same way he would have done an enemy. Loyalty, might, courage… Those were words he understood, because they were spoken with actions. Vocalizers didn't hurt, weapons did. So did his fists, always practical and never without purpose.

His nemesis came in other shapes. Before and after his reprogramming, failure was the thing that disturbed him the most, his one, true nightmare. He had spent every cycle of his young life trying to keep himself and his team out of its reach, but every setback reminded him that the road ahead of him was still too long. Experience was a thing that didn't arrive fast enough.

Things had become worse when he suspected that his new missions would seek something different than his previous assignments. He had accepted the rerouting of his programming without question, but he also had doubts. He had no practice whatsoever in performing actions that could be qualified as benevolent or heroic. What the slag was he supposed to do now, when his new ethics forbid him to operate in his usual, violent ways? He had the right intentions, but at the same time his hands felt tied. He didn't have any clue how to be… whatever he was now.

He found the clarity of mind to admit that he would have welcomed Wildrider's insanity. Sometimes he envied his most erratic teammate and his unique ways to evade reality. Motormaster could have used some of that right now, when failure was torturing him more painfully than usual.

"You may think you won, but that's hardly the case. You know those two humans you were looking for? We killed them right before you arrived. So yeah, enjoy your victory, Motormouth!"

He clenched his fists when he remembered the battered buildings, the marred pavement, the human remains scattered over a battlefield that should never have been. They burned much more than the words Hot Shot had spat at him. Motormaster had to admit that he preferred the Protectobots before they turned into merciless murderers.

Breakdown had broken his shy posture for once and dared to tell him that he shouldn't feel that way, that they had saved many humans.

Yes, that may be true, but so was the fact that the Stunticons had failed in protecting the lives of the dozens that had ended up scattered across the pavement, innocent victims of the Protectobots' brutality. Motormaster had no quarrels with the outcome of a true battle, but what he had seen in that human city had nothing to do with honor. Without a logical goal, violence became pointless.

Arriving at his destination only increased his frustration. He had waited hours to make his move, not because of fear but because Megatron had had his hands full after returning from his meeting with Optimus Prime. But now, as the doors of the Command Centre opened before him, Motormaster wondered if there was something other than respect behind his motives. Was that what others called shame? Shame for having failed, shame for not having saved the two human lives he had been obliged to protect, shame for his own scratched hands, that had crushed so many of those innocent lives in the past…

He stayed under the threshold, shocked, uncertain of his next move. It took him two astro-kliks to recognize the robot sitting before the main computer, surrounded, as always, by his two closest lieutenants.

Megatron had removed his helmet and looked considerably younger, if not like an entirely different mech. His head was crowned with metal panels that hinted at his worker origins, except that the markings of his number of series and model had been long ago replaced by the ancient Cybertronian symbols of pride and strength. They were already worn out, making Motormaster suspect that they were as ancient as the war itself.

Starscream, standing beside his leader with Megatron's helmet in his hands, shot the newcomer a puzzled look. Soundwave, as always at the left side of Megatron, was a motionless statue who didn't detach his gaze from the computer's screen. It seemed that, previous to Motormaster's arrival, the three had been talking about some broadcast of the humans media, still displayed on the monitor.

"I… apologize for my intrusion, Lord Megatron," Motormaster said when he realized that his arrival, though not rejected, wasn't exactly expected either.

"Motormaster," Megatron responded from his throne, not moving an inch from his position before the screen. "What is it that you want?"

The Stunticon stepped forward and got to one knee, bowing his head. "I have come to face the consequences of my failure."

Was it punishment was he requesting, or forgiveness? Motormaster knew that mistakes could never be ignored, but in that moment he knew that disappointing his leader and creator was the one thing that could devastate him. That had always been his weakness, that and the constant fear of losing any of his teammates.

"Leave us," Megatron said to Starscream and Soundwave. To Motormaster's surprise, Starscream didn't object; he didn't even shoot Motormaster one of his famous murdering looks. He just smirked and left Megatron's helmet on the console, leaving the Command Centre with Soundwave as if their bitter rivalry had never existed.

"Get up." Motormaster heard Megatron's voice looming over him. "Being on your knees is not your place."

He did what Megatron said, if only for obedience, but he kept his gaze down. He was sure that his place was at the bottom of a melting pit.

"I heard that you saved many lives."

That's not that Motormaster expected to hear. Despite the shame he was feeling, he dared to raise his head.

"I failed in retrieving the two humans you commanded me to protect. I wait for my punishment, Lord Megatron."

Megatron didn't reply, but fixed on his creation a very profound stare. Motormaster would have preferred if Megatron had hit him.

Finally, Megatron spoke. "Is saving lives an assignment I usually give you, Motormaster?"

The powerful Stunticon commander never hesitated, but he did this time. What choice did he have, when he had been taken completely by surprise?

"I… uh…"

"You had never done it, and yet you did everything in your power to save the same human creatures that only cycles ago you wouldn't have had any problems crushing."

That was true. It was highly illogical, but also felt natural.

"It's the ones I couldn't save that trouble me."

Motormaster had always despised Breakdown for not standing the stares of others on him, but as Megatron penetrated every circuit of his body with his intense red eyes, Motormaster understood his paranoid teammate in a way he had never done before.

"What about the lives you took before? Did those trouble you?"

Motormaster clenched his fists. He remembered the times when he used to roll over the humans and their vehicles as if they were cockroaches. Now he would give everything to turn time back.

"They do now," he replied sincerely.

Megatron stood up. The spikes on his head scattered, one to each side and two pointing upwards, giving him the appearance of a king. His shadow seemed to agree, projecting itself over the wall until it reached the ceiling.

"Many humans have died because of our war, Motormaster, a war that both Decepticons and Autobots brought to Earth, the same war I didn't have the wisdom to stop. As the head of the Decepticons, I assume the responsibility of every innocent life we have taken in our unfair efforts to strip this planet of its energy resources."

That was technically true. As the commander of the Stunticons, Motormaster himself had always taken the blame for the mistakes of his teammates, but he was also fair enough to understand that they were sentient individuals and thus they made decisions that had nothing to do with their commander's orders. Washing his hands and leaving all the blame on Megatron's shoulders would be as unfair as it would be mistaken.

"I'm the only one to be blamed for my mistakes, Lord Megatron. The lives I have terminated were entirely my decision."

"As they were the ones you saved recently," Megatron said as he looked towards the screen, which displayed different terrestrial broadcasts at the same time. "Look at this and tell me what you see."

Motormaster had never been fond of the humans' television. His teammates, on the other hand, had become loyal followers of the so-called 'idiot box', so much that Motormaster had broken their screens several times – and heads too, he hated to admit now – in an effort to make them focus solely on the purpose of becoming the most powerful and effective Decepticon Gestalt team.

Still, he looked at the monitor with full attention. There was nothing there that he hadn't seen before; dramatized situations, ridiculous sports competitions, children's cartoons…

"Nothing," he said finally. "I see nothing."

Megatron nodded. "Exactly. It's been one solar cycle since the Autobots destroyed an entire civilian settlement and the Protectobots attacked a sector of the city state of Portland, and yet the news network remains silent. The humans have decided to keep the Autobots' doing away from the public eye."

"But how could they do that? The Autobots went berserk. Thousands of humans died in those attacks."

"And what are thousands on a planet of billions?" Megatron said, his eyes narrowing in self-inflicted pain. "I, better than anyone, know the benefits of keeping certain facts away from the public eye." Megatron walked toward the monitor, the spikes on his head glinting with the light coming from the screen. "As far as the humans are concerned, we are the authors of both massacres."

"What?! But it was the Autobots who killed all those creatures!"

"Information is power, Motormaster. Control the information and you will have half the battle won. Soundwave has detected intense activity in the highly codified channels of communication between the humans' rulers and the Ark. There's no doubt that the official version of the facts has been elaborated by the Autobots themselves."

"But there are survivors, Lord Megatron, witnesses who could prove the Autobots' wrong. How could the humans believe in their lies in that case?"

"Because of their trust," Megatron said blatantly. "The Autobots have gained the humans' trust over the years. They will believe anything that Prime tells them."

"So the blame of these two attacks is on us."

"And only on us. Optimus Prime has moved the battlefield of our war, and I have no doubt that his efforts will focus in turning us into an imminent threat that needs to be dealt immediately. After these two events, I have no doubt that the humans will agree."

Motormaster clenched his fists, his old acquaintance rage running through his fuel lines. The Autobots were lying, certainly in order to pressure Megatron into accepting Optimus Prime's offer of an alliance, but they were lying, and the Decepticons would be blamed for something they hadn't done… and yet, it was something not very far from the things they used to do in the past. Was that justice?

"Are you…" he dared to ask, "are you going to consider Optimus Prime's offer, Lord Megatron?"

Megatron turned toward him, the expression on his face recording itself in the Stunticon's processor as something he would never forget.

"There's nothing to consider. We stand for peace now, not for war. Remember it well and make sure you never forget it." Megatron walked towards his throne and put his hand on the back. "I created your team for a reason, and embedded you with a purpose born from my own ambition and blindness. That corroded your programming and that of your teammates. But today, more than ever, we stand as the living proof of how programming can change. I once promised you Earth as a reward for your loyalty. I offer it to you again now, not as a property, even less a war trophy, but as the place in which you were assembled and the place where you belong. Earth is yours, Motormaster, yours and the Stunticons' to protect."

The words hit hard, not because Motormaster hadn't thought about them after his programming change, but because deep inside he knew they were true. Revelations were in order that day, and he wondered if he hadn't felt that way all along. He had been built on Earth indeed, from a terrestrial vehicle… Earth was his home in a way that Cybertron would never be. Memories of warm sun over his hood, playful drops of rain running down his windows, the feeling of gravel beneath his wheels, children's laughter… That was Earth, that was his home.

"Motormaster, your sword."

He had it in his hands even before Megatron's voice had finished reverberating, offering it to his creator as he had offered it the first time he'd sworn his eternal loyalty.

"Destroy my throne."

He wasn't sure he had heard correctly. Ever since he had stepped into the Nemesis for the first time, Motormaster had seen in that throne a symbol of Megatron's power, no matter if it was occupied or not. That throne alone had turned every one of Starscream's attempts of takeover into a joke.

"Destroy it," Megatron repeated his order. "I have relied on fake symbols long enough… Do it!"

Motormaster felt the heat of his sword as he raised it. He wasn't sure about what he was going to do, he couldn't even compute it, but the feeling inside his spark was undeniable. Not only his programming, but everything he knew about war, about his cause and about his creator, was going to suffer an abysmal change, the kind of change that would take him far beyond his former dreams of simple power and conquest. He had begun to know himself.

He didn't hesitate when he shred the throne into pieces with the most powerful blow his sword had ever given.

The pieces were still flying when he felt Megatron's hand on his shoulder.

"A new era has begun for our kind, Motormaster, an era of peace and justice. The shadow of our mistakes will loom over us as an eternal torture, but also as a reminder of our new, true cause." Megatron took his helmet and put it on, stepping over his destroyed throne. "Being a warrior was not my function, but when I turned into one I found it easy to replace honor with violence. It is time to correct that mistake, it is time to make the Decepticons a faction of freedom, not of war."

It sounded good, even with all the odds playing against them. Once again, Motormaster remembered; memories that were not within his data banks, but in the very core of his frame. All those miles travelled under the terrestrial weather, the music resounding through speakers that he no longer had, the feeling of happiness and peace as he drove through one beautiful landscape after another…

"What about the Autobots?" he asked, giving voice to his major concern.

"We'll give them the chance they offered us many times and I refused to take," Megatron said, smirking at a small tube in his hands. "Programming can change, as we all witnessed, but it can also return to what it used to be. If the Autobots embrace their former Code of Honor again, there will be no more war between us."

Motormaster stared at the small tube that contained what appeared to be a sample of vital fuel. He didn't understand science and didn't plan to do it soon, but if Megatron said that peace would come, then that's the way it would be. In the meantime, he would make sure to honor his creator and protect Earth, his home.

….

Ravage

Motormaster would never know about the two narrowed optics that didn't leave his frame until he disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

The instinct of following had to be repressed, as many other things had been repressed lately. Would it become a habit? The predator said no, but the loyal Cassetticon knew he had his orders to follow.

One day, one complete solar cycle had passed since Ravage had hunted a prey. Not much for a Cybertronian whose life span was not determined by the passing of time, but an eternity for one whose existence was ruled by the instinct of the hunter.

Ravage showed his fangs, but he didn't emit any sound. There was no prey within his optical sensors' range, but his instinct was far from being dormant. Ever since the Decepticons had been turned into mockeries of the Autobots, his hunter side had been anything but anxious. He needed to stalk, he needed to shred, he needed to kill… and his own comrades-in-arms were starting to look like potential victims with every day.

He had felt the proximity of the danger because of his symbiotic bond with Soundwave. He had also felt the electro-magnetic barrier that his master produced to protect himself and his creations, but the thing approaching them had been faster. Soundwave had only managed to shield himself and Ravage; the rest of the Cassettes had been affected.

"'Protect the humans', Soundwave?"

Soundwave hadn't responded immediately. He was looking at Megatron holding the cooling tower that threatened to collapse over the oil rig workers, certainly as confused as Ravage was, but definitely not as shocked.

The command was mental, soft electromagnetic pulses directed to Ravage and Ravage only. Even in Cassette mode, the robotic feline understood the message and, reluctantly, returned to stasis. Still, he had time to listen to Soundwave's voice.

"Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, eject…" Keeping up appearances was a proper course of action, Ravage had to agree. There would be time to talk later.

The time didn't arrive fast enough, though. It seemed forever until Megatron left the base to meet with Optimus Prime, and Ravage finally had some astro-kliks to have a private conversation with his master.

"Is this is a hallucination? A malfunction of my cerebral-shells?" Ravage transmitted through his mental bond with Soundwave. Loss of perception wasn't a probable scenario, but it was a slight possibility. Once, when Megatron had used the Heart of Cybertron to increase his power and had made the Autobots flee all by himself, Rumble and Frenzy had insisted that Ravage should celebrate too and had managed to make him drink more Energon than he could take. The episode had been very embarrassing, but also confusing. Ravage remembered having had hallucinations. Perhaps it was the same now, even though he hadn't touched high grade since that day of shame.

"Your processor functions optimally." Soundwave's voice took him out of the shameful memory.

"Then what happened?"

"Your siblings have been reprogrammed, as have the rest of the Decepticons."

"Reprogrammed? How?"

"Information remains unknown."

Soundwave had his suspicions, obviously, but Ravage knew his master well enough and refrained from asking questions whose answers Soundwave still didn't possess.

"I request a course of action."

"Your primary instructions remain the same."

Ravage growled. "Pretending is not part of my personality component. You didn't build me for that, Soundwave."

"Decepticons' ethics: severely rerouted. Their reaction towards the fact that we both remain unchanged: impossible to calculate with accuracy."

"How would they react, by tearing us apart?" Ravage snorted. "They have all become soft-sparked malfunctions. They behave more like Autobots." Worse than Autobots, actually. Ravage still felt the need to purge his fuel tanks when he remembered how Frenzy and Rumble had been talking about becoming superheroes just some breems ago. It was disgusting.

"Autobots: also affected by massive reprogramming."

Ravage's optics glowed with malice. "Then they may be a more suitable option for offering our loyalties."

The stare that Soundwave fixed on him wasn't severe, but it left no place for alternatives. "Megatron commands," the telepath simply said.

"Megatron appears not to be suited for command anymore." It had been a painful thing for Ravage to say. He had always been one of Megatron's most loyal followers, but he was also a follower of logic.

"Conclusion not yet reached."

"When will it be the right time then, Soundwave? When Megatron condemns us all by surrendering to the humans?"

"There's no proof of such outcome. We wait. We observe."

"And when do we act?"

Soundwave stood from his seat. His red visor shined momentarily. "Judgment will come. Then we act."

Ravage growled, a sonorous, yet useless protest. As his master, he knew about patience; he had exercised it in the past when hunting prey or when spying on Autobots, both activities frequently being one in the same. But this was different; his orders were to remain motionless whilst he witnessed his cause and his purpose being turned into a joke. What was he supposed to do with these clowns who dared to use the Deception emblem? Laugh? All he knew was that he was not in the mood to laugh.

When Soundwave gave him the mental command to return to his chest compartment, Ravage did it reluctantly. His stasis was unrested because, for the first time in his life, he knew that the ones recharging beside him were everything, except his siblings.

His last thought before falling into stasis lock was that judgment day wouldn't arrive soon enough.

He was already craving for it.

To be continued.

So Skyfire is not the only one who wasn't affected by Primus' idea of a joke. Are you picturing interesting consequences after this revelation? You'd do well by doing so.

I take it you remember the episode 'Microbots', in which Megatron used the Heart of Cybertron to increase his power and kick the Autobots' afts. After that, the Decepticons had a hell of a party.

Speaking of Megatron, the idea of how he looks like without his helmet was taken from IDW's 'Megatron origin'. After reading that ultra-yummy comic, I discovered that magazines with adult material bored me to the core.

Next, we'll take a trip to the Ark to see what's going on. Please let me know if you enjoyed the chapter. There is another one on the way, and it will be dark.