OMG. It's been so long since I worked on any of my stories, I had to go back and re-read them from the beginning. Epic Suck on my part. Sorry everyone, I'll try to do better with updating.
Despite officially being on leave, Optimus and his new guard (he refused to refer to Megatron as his slave) reported to Ultra Magnus's suite immediately upon being summoned. It had been several days since their visit to Omega Supreme, and his team had been taking turns coming to visit. He wasn't used to having nothing constructive to do, so he hoped Ultra Magnus might have a real assignment for him.
Besides, a part of him was still waiting for Megatron to try to messily offline him, overthrow the Autobot government of Cybertron, and wreak terrible energon soaked vengeance. In a message, Professor Sumdac has said that it was "like having Ghengis Khan as your butler" whatever that meant.
Having the hulking war-built Decepticon at his back still made Optimus feel more than a little twitchy, as did the reactions of the mechs and femmes they passed on the street. You'd think they had never seen a Decepticon before.
Well, to be fair, seeing a mech on the vids was a very different proposition than being loomed over in person. Especially when the loomer was a scowling, red-opticed death machine who looked like he'd be much happier ripping the onlooker's sparks out than passing them by peaceably.
He wished Megatron wasn't actually behind him, though. Supposedly that was the default "following your master around" orientation, but it creeped him out and made the Decepticon angry. Well, angrier anyway. It was about the way things looked to the public, in the end. Optimus had to be seen as in control of the violent, terrifying Decepticon to reassure the populace. Otherwise, the Council might change their minds and decide to execute the mech in a big shiny public display, and Optimus really did not want to know what would happen with their spark bond if that happened. And…it would be a terrible waste.
So he was stuck with having his greatest foe literally at his back. He supposed he would get used to it…eventually. If nothing else, it was convenient in that pedestrian traffic parted before them as mechs scrambled to be out of his and Megatron's path. Of course, then they all stood around and gawked. That part had been occurring ever since he and his team had returned to Cybertron as heroes, so he was almost accustomed.
At the moment, they were on their way to the Citadel, where Ultra Magnus was still recovering. Fliers were banned from the airspace around it for security reasons, so they were walking. It was too bad Megatron couldn't turn into a ground vehicle, but of course, triple changers tended to be insane, so it was probably just as well.
Optimus checked in at the lobby desk, and acquired magnetic security badges for both of them. It was a formality, of course, since at this point practically everyone on Cybertron knew him on sight, but rules were rules, at least in cases like this. No reason to make the guardbots more nervous than they already were.
He strode down the hallways trying to look like he belonged there. He was striving to appear approachable, responsible, and like the sort of mech who ought to be trusted with leadership positions and a fearsome living war machine. No one had jumped out and shouted "fraud!" yet, so hopefully it was convincing.
Optimus returned the salutes of the Magnus's guards as he entered his leader's suite in the hospital wing of the Guard Citadel. They were obviously expecting him and his glowering escort.
Ultra Magnus was looking better, though still far from his usual self. Optimus was just relived that his commander no longer seemed like he was a wires breadth from deactivation. He really did not want to live on a Cybertron where Sentinel was in charge. If nothing else, the nightlife would be lousy.
The large (for an Autobot) and imposing frame of the Magnus was still hooked up to a variety of monitors, but he was now able to sit up and speak. Ultra Magnus seemed less intimidating than he used to, but that might just be the comparison to other bots Optimus had recently encountered.
Almost of their own volition, his optics went to Megatron.
"Magnus." The grey mech's tone was flat, hostile.
"Megatron. You are looking well. I can see that Optimus Prime is caring for your wellbeing better than the guards in the Stockades."
"Yes, your wayward pet is a very considerate Autobot. I can see why you had him expelled from the academy."
Optimus winced. Perhaps giving the Decepticon unlimited access to all the news sites hadn't been the best idea he had ever had.
"My Primes have never been pets, no mater what Decepticon rumors say." Ultra Magnus said coolly.
"If you don't want those kind of rumors, you should appoint some mecha who are not optic candy. I mean, really Magnus. They all look like that (he gestured at Optimus) and you expect anyone to believe you pick them entirely on merit?"
Right. Massive embarrassment in front of the commanders of both major Cybertronian factions. At least Sentinel wasn't here to see it. Optimus thanked Primus for small favors. He was not sure how he felt about Megatron considering him "optic candy." Except that it was strangely both flattering and terrifying.
"Perhaps Autobots are simply better looking on average than Decepticons, Megatron." Magnus said. "Certainly they are more competent and less treacherous, given that a group of Space Bridge repair bots were able to defeat you."
Megatron snorted. Optimus was reminded of the dragons in some Earth movies. "Of course, having the Allspark and your hammer on their side had nothing to do with it. And I hardly think that Starscream is a good example of Decepticon kind. He wasn't always like that, and the rest of my lieutenants are loyal."
"My Primes are trained to use the tools at hand. And Optimus was one of the most promising young mechs from his academy class, he merely showed poor judgment, and sadly another young Prime was lost."
"Lost because of your kind's prejudices, you mean." Megatron rumbled. "We are not so short sighted and xenophobic as to waste talent because of a little thing like that. She gained some interesting abilities from it after all."
The Magnus looked nonplussed. "Ah, what?"
Optimus decided he had had enough of being treated like he wasn't in the room. "It was in my report, Sir." He said. "Blackarachnia, the technorganic? She's carrying a major grudge against Autobots in general and me in particular." And Sentinel.
He had always suspected that no one was actually reading his reports from Earth. It was depressing to have that confirmed. Apparently he was widely regarded as frag-up optic candy who no one listened to. Now that he was back with the Allspark and had Megatron bonded to him, that would change… right?
Ultra Magnus looked startled, then grim. "Sentinel Prime was assigned to review your mission reports. I will speak to him shortly."
Megatron decided that enough time had been wasted on verbal repartee with his old enemy. While enjoyable, what he really wanted to know was what the Magnus's angle was on the use of the slave programming. It was possible that the mech had just called him here to gloat, but he doubted it. Judging from his current level of damage, he probably hadn't been in charge when the call had been made to reactivate the code.
Ignoring the Prime, he focused on his old rival and true opponent. They had fought side by side once upon a time, in the last of the Quintesson wars. Ultra Magnus had never lacked for strength or valor, but he was always far too naive and credulous to be a good leader. For one thing, he had always been a horrible judge of character. Look at his right hand, the Idiot With the Chin. Megatron kept the predictably treacherous Starscream around for good reason, but he seriously doubted that the braggart blue Prime brought a legion of other warrior built fliers with him.
Ultra Magnus could have had the little Earth Prime and Blackarachnia at his back. The techno-organic was a scheming bitch, but she was very good at it, when she wasn't subconsciously sabotaging herself due to misplaced guilt.
"Lets cut to the chase, shall we, Ultra?" He said coldly. "They reactivated my slave programming."
Ultra Magnus flinched visibly. "I…know." He looked up, a disgusting expression of sincerity on his faceplates. "I would have seen you honorably deactivated, before I allowed that to happen." He looked away then. "I was still unconscious most of the time when that decision was made. The council has much to answer for. Many of them are old enough to have seen the results last time."
"You didn't stop them from doing it, and I know you were online to give my little master his marching orders."
"And for that I am truly sorry, Megatron." The Magnus said softly, his voice tired. "You had already been reprogrammed by that point, and the best I could do was make sure that your new master was a trustworthy mech."
He turned his attention to his Autobot. "Optimus Prime." Ultra Magnus said in a quiet but authoritative tone, "What we discuss here today must go no farther than this room without my express approval."
The little tricolored Prime drew himself up to an even more painfully correct parade rest and nodded shortly. "Yes sir, Ultra Magnus."
That potential issue taken care of, the two leaders regarded each other from across the small medical chamber. Megatron took the offensive, as was his habit. "My Decepticons will stop at nothing to see that the programming does not come into general use again. They're probably planning the assassinations of every mech with a servo in this right now, from council bots to lab technicians."
Ultra Magnus drew himself up as much as he could, given that he was in a medical berth. "They will not succeed in that. We have uncovered several of your agents here, and the vast majority of Autobots are both loyal and vigilant."
"Processor washed and foolish, and not nearly vigilant enough to notice one of my most loyal soldiers had climbed so high into their command structure." Megatron looked down his nasal plating at his rival.
"At this point, I am more impressed by your menial workers than I am by your army. They may be undersized, inexperienced, and hopelessly naive, but surprisingly effective for all that."
Blue Optics narrowed angrily. "One of my Primes is hardly a 'menial worker' Megatron. I salute the team on Earth for their skill and initiative, and I believe in rewarding mecha who rise to the occasion in such a manner."
He gestured at Optimus, who had been trying to fade into the walls as the two most powerful mechs in known space bickered, er, engaged in verbal sparring.
"Yes, of course, now that the little group of mecha you left to rot on that filthy dirtball are public heroes, they're worth acknowledging." Megatron retorted. "Besides, they're a useful distraction, and this one is so painfully dedicated to his ridiculous code of honor that he's trustworthy. You can pretend to yourself that the slave code isn't so bad if he's the one holding my leash."
Megatron's voice lowered to a soft, metallic, rumbling snarl of rage. "The slave coding has been used again, and we both know where that leads. You, of all mechs, must remember. You, who bear the coding just as I do."
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