Megatron walks her out of Kaon to a glittering Cybertron that reflects the billions of stars on its gleaming metal surface. The skyscrapers are strong, and the shapes are defined with beautiful silver contrast against the bare black of space.
The sense of home hits her harder than anticipated and sorrow sharpens the edges. It cuts her pride just a little; though her memory of Cybertron is similar, she likes his best.
"You remember Cybertron extremely well...I'll give you that." Her tone is more reverent in spite of her.
As they are within his mind, she feels the hint of grief wafting from his image.
"This is my Cybertron. It will be more glorious than before, when I conquer it."
"Then what?"
"I will protect it all of my days and set in fair rules and regulations that will continue into generations after I'm gone." He reflects on the dark energon in his chest as he rests his hands behind his back, "If I'm not immortal with the shard I carry."
"Oh, you're still very mortal, Megatron." She smirks, "If you didn't already deduce, dark energon is drawn to anything more powerful than its current container. If there's something out there stronger than you, it will abandon you, and your spark will fall into an unknown afterlife; one stranger than mine."
"It was never my original plan to rely on dark energon. I merely found it and saw it a tool to outlast my enemies."
His pause then changes the subjects, "Those answers are worth two memories."
Sonica gives him a courtesy laugh, "Not even, cheapskate. All that combined isn't even a number. You owe me six memories."
He turns to her, "You dismissed my first choice."
"That was before my new compromise. I said 'five for each one you choose' but we settled on three after Doradus the First started to stir."
Megatron scowls down his height at her; again, fighting every urge to swat her into a wall. "You tricked me."
"You got distracted." With a bright smile, she looks forwards smugly, "To start, I'll have three of your greatest, most vexing regrets, please."
They come faithfully to his mind after stellar cycles of pushing them back. He supposes these are better than asking for his plans...still, it's FAR more personal than comfortable.
Sonica senses when he's thinking about changing the true selection to a lesser one, "I can feel some of your emotions while I'm in here, Megatron. I know what you're thinking of doing."
"I was about to learn of the ninth energon type before you pulled me out. If I'm going to give you full access of my selected memories, then you owe me an explanation."
"Silver energon is the most complex and difficult, if you want the rest, you need to give me what I asked for."
Megatron glances back at the pair of white rings, pressing against the semi-permeable barrier of the hole which connects them.
He gambled on being able to avoid this intrusion and lost. Can he go without knowing more about silver energon? He could- but she would probably stay in his head to be sure she gets the rest of what he promised. He can't give her lies and he can't not do the deal. And those white ring optics, if they are optics, feel all too real to risk going back. Even if he could, it's another hefty gamble to grab and run without her following or extending the deal for her trouble.
His brilliant mind has no alternatives and no loopholes. He has no choice.
Acutely aware that others besides her are watching, he aims to make this fast. He must show her but perhaps it doesn't matter the speed. A loophole at last.
His first one is from a very long time ago- before he had a name but not long before he was drafted into the pits. Today, he still believes this was the reason for his draft and that's only a fraction of the regret this memory holds.
There was an accident and bots died. The end. Next.
"Hold on, hold on," Sonica grabs his arm (when she shouldn't be able to) and surprisingly, the memory halts before he can swipe it away. "I gave you time. What are you trying to pull?"
"How are you touching me?"
"I'll tell you if you don't fast-forwards through your memories."
They glare at each other for a long moment and Megatron is cornered yet again. Almost breaking his teeth, he pulls the memory back and lets it play.
The energon deposit they were after was so deep, the travel down took them through danger and light-absorbing darkness. Megatron, then D-27, had climbed up the ranks to be RH in his team of 50 they called a hand-unit. He's basically second-in-command and he had assisted the foreman of the team with measuring the distance within. It was further than any other excavation in known history.
Because of how treacherous the way was, plus the work cite at the bottom, some hand-units were put together to work on it; it was also the most any of the hand-units had ever bonded. Megatron learned who all the other numbers were and communicated often with other RHs and foremen; even the ones he thought were rude and uncaring, and they all got along well. They helped one another and protected the teams. Of course, they've had to. If they weren't careful, things would come out of the holes in the walls and ceiling of their tunnel and harm the workers.
After all the work of bracing the tunnel and making the up-ground clearing for the machine nicknamed "load-looper", it was time to go all the way down to begin another excavation. They were told this should be the last time they take down new ground before they hit the targeted loot.
In a strange way, that day felt like a good-bye, as the familiarity began to ebb. Once this was over, they would return to their usual sectors and communication would be limited once again to trade and floaters.
D-27 was snapped at by 307 to monitor the load-looper's end inside the tunnel. He had no choice but to obey though it wasn't his usual station. That should've been his first clue- only because it had been before this project that that kind of slag had happened. It had started to go down hill, what was stopping it from turning into a disaster? Nothing.
No one saw what it was. If anyone did, they took that witness to the AllSpark with them. D-27 didn't see much but black and fire as he turned to fill the load-looper's bucket. Whatever it was, it was like the other creatures but this one was more powerful. It had to have come out of one of the holes, but this thing was too big to have done that. Nonetheless, it spiraled up from the depths and with each bound and weave, it scrapped the ceiling and walls, breaking the beams framing the tunnel.
It was so fast, there were few cries. Those higher up didn't know it was coming. This thing broke through guards and workers as it climbed to where D-27 was.
The creature tore through and turned just after it narrowly missed D-27 and disappeared. The tunnel began to quake, and he instantly sent all his bots to action. He went down as quickly as he could around the bots fleeing to find the injured. He couldn't see them around those running for their sparks.
In frustration, he began yelling at the runners, guilting them for leaving friends behind. He threatened to haunt them if they didn't help. Many listened and that was the first time he realized his influence on others.
The many that heard him tracked back and began the rescues. Then 307 shoved D-27 and cursed him; he began yelling over the groans of the shifting ground that all survivors must leave; they cannot afford to waste time on the hopeless. D-27 fought back and yelled for them to move quickly- grab the ones they have and run. 307 tried ripping some of the injured away from the rescuers and D-27 lost his temper.
As their fist fight ensued, the beams gave in with loud snaps. Rock tumbled in on them.
Megatron, watching this all over again, wishes for the billionth time that he had chosen differently.
For an indefinite amount of time, D-27 lay in the rubble. An aftershock happened while he was down there and by some ghastly miracle, he was sifted upwards. No larger and heavier debris were above him and that made him the first rescued.
Most of the others he had led were found next...but only a sorry few were still functioning among the disheveled graves. One of those sorry few was 307.
D-27's sins were announced to all the superiors; worse, he tried to fight that his decision was correct. They should always try to rescue any who could get repaired and return to work but 307's last cry at him would echo far into Megatron's future:
"You caused more deaths to save the dead! Your foolish nobility made sure we lost many of those who could run!"
D-27 was stripped of rank, sent to work the dirtier jobs before finally being imprisoned for two solar cycles and sold to the pit owners. The memory ends.
Megatron's watch of Sonica's reaction dared her to cry for him, and challenged her to tell him he was right in his foolishness, but no such response came.
She stared through the memory with an unreadable expression. The long stretch of silence continues after he loses the patience to wait for her retort. He knows she has one.
She'll probably drag it out, yammer on about how she might see both sides because his spark was in the right place, but the protocol was correct in making sure there were more workers. Maybe she'll point out what a leader he was because of all the bots who listened and turned around. Oh, and she'll give a sentimental speech about how they went to the AllSpark proud...blah, blah, blah.
"That really sucked like a black hole."
He makes a face. That's it? Now she's disappointing.
"Next?" She looks up at him and he sees it: sorrow. Her optic lights are dimmed from grief.
He decides not to say anything and goes back to his excruciating list. This next one haunts him more than the first.
D-27 eventually found new purpose in the pits and that's what spurred his will to fight back. Word quickly grew that he might be the angriest and most vicious fighter the pits have ever had. That lead to the fight against the infamous, SparkSplitter.
He was the most ruthless and by far, the most destructive. His fame stemmed from how he would mutilate the bodies of his victims to ensure they would not return. His catch phrase morphed from this, and the crowd would shout after each of his matches: one fight, zero chance.
D-27 was promised that if he could defeat SparkSplitter, a 15 stellar cycle running champion, he would earn a name. That was enough.
It was probably the longest fight SparkSplitter had had in all his championship. It ended when Megatronus-to-be had finally run him through with a pointed but dull, piece of scrap metal. Then the regret settled in.
He had killed many times before this; it still makes no sense why this victory would haunt him. Megatronus would grow to wish he had cut his head off instead of hovering over this dying pit-champion while his lights went out.
The audience was stunned silent. He heard SparkSplitter clearly through his weakening smile: "Finally, someone worse than me..."
D-27 hardly heard the deafening uproar of the crowd and the stomping and hitting of bleachers. He stood up fully on automatic; his mind didn't tell him to do that. Mentally and spiritually, he was still hovering over the famous and loved champion who has already been forgotten...replaced...
His owner ran out into the pit, grabbed his arm and raised it over their heads. D-27 was barely aware.
"The name of your new champion: Megatronus!"
Megatron cuts the memory there. This time, he doesn't have the patience to wait. "I dare you to say something. I want to know what you're getting from these memories that I barely think about anymore."
She behaves like she didn't hear him, "I don't have anything to say that you haven't already told yourself."
Sonica closes her eyes. The worst part of that memory was feeling why that moment caused so much regret. D-27 was angry that after all his punishments, he was still imprisoned and sold. These "punishments" over the losses of his bots were going backwards.
Most would have despaired, but he continued to fight for redemption- spiritually within and physically without, in the very pits, before thousands of witnesses that would say he repented... only to be told that he was worse...there wasn't forgiveness. They didn't cheer him against his struggle, they celebrated his damnation.
She covers her face and mourns silently.
Megatron becomes very uneasy. Somewhere in this conflict of emotions, he's almost touched, but within his long life of habits, he's greatly ticked off. For a moment of weakness, he flip-flops between wanting to be grateful for her understanding, and wanting to keep his walls and shove her out; telling her to knock it off and all is said and done. There's no point to her acting like this.
"Suck it up," He finally scolds her in his own frustration, "you asked for it, now look up. You have one more."
She obeys with quivering hands that fling her tendrils back over her shoulders.
In his mind, he commends her for a nanoklik, but he sighs at the whole situation. Femmes.
Megatron brings up his third regret following a sore battle with the Autobots. Each of the battles had been wins and losses until the end of their worst "tie" in all the many stellar cycles. The losses were wonderfully devastating to the Autobots, but their Decepticon loss was also detrimental.
Until the end of this battle, Megatron had spent a lot of time inside his base of operations in Darkmount. He was always busy between what Starscream was doing, what Soundwave was finding, and whatever experiments and such Shockwave was inventing only to turn around again and send platoons into battle.
But this "tie" showed him a scary possibility of outcomes: what if the Autobots and Decepticons are evenly matched? This could go on forever...
After calculating these great losses, Megatron sat back in his throne and desired a break. He doesn't regret this break, just the discovery during it. He needed to know this.
Megatron traveled to the top of Darkmount to oversee his domain-to-be, to replenish his motivation. Instead, his spark plummets into his feet. What he saw wasn't his Cybertron, but an endless, ugly, and dead battlefield. All the lights were gone and the lack of energon was gravely understood.
He had killed the thing he wanted to win...like he killed in the pits.
His mind then blamed Optimus for using their home as a shield to survive. However, that thought didn't make him feel much better.
All that was left to do, was to take the space bridge the Autobots stole and leave.
He had to look over Cybertron once more upon this realization. This time, it was to say good-bye.
Finally, that was over. But, as Megatron thought over his memories, there could be worse that she may ask for next.
"What's next so we can be done here?"
Sonica straightens and intakes a deep fill of air and lets it out, "Yes, three of your happiest memories, please."
His victories over the Autobots; there are some good ones. This will be just fine. She will see her precious worthy sparks suffer; why didn't he think to do this earlier?
"Hold on,"
His glare slides to the corner of his eyes and down at her skinny, little dictating personage.
"I should clarify what I mean by 'happy'." She looks up at him with her slightly dimmed optics. "I don't mean victories and I don't mean pleasure. I'm talking about moments that warmed your spark and made you feel important and appreciated."
His expression wrinkles with disgust, "Is there a point to this? What are you after?"
"That's not included in the deal." Her stare turns stubborn, "Let's finish."
"What if I don't have any?"
"I'm sure you have at least one."
"What if I don't?"
Sonica shrugs, "We cut our losses, I guess."
She holds all the leverage...all the control... Megatron's anger builds all too quickly this time. He goes to choke her without thinking. His hand goes right through her. She waits patiently and it sends him over the edge.
The whole point to this patch was to get what's owed him. He's gotten little of that and he's forced to share things he doesn't want anyone to know. And he still has no control!
He extends his sword and starts lashing through her and into her. His movements are quicker than he recalls. He turns and takes a few strikes at the setting. He gets satisfying cuts and tumbling metals and rock. He stops there; very aware that looked like an erratic tantrum. She...and the others...saw it too... May it remind them that he will go ballistic on anyone else that tries this slag with him.
He turns back to Sonica and through his stance, he dares her to make a snide comment.
Naturally, she takes that dare, "You look like you're feeling better."
"Shut up."
"I mean it though,"
"Shut. Up." He aims the tip of his sword at her throat, "I may not be able to harm you here, but once we are done, you are mine."
She raises a brow, "That sounds familiar. Did my past 'sporters' inspire that quote?"
Wrath soothes him this time as he recalls they are almost finished. This last part will be faster. He sheathes his sword back under his cannon and goes to his memories.
The first moment he felt the sort of happiness Sonica annoyingly nit-picked for, was a while into his path of fame as Megatronus.
It was tradition for the new champion to survive the next several or so battles before truly inheriting the title, which, Megatron did.
The party that followed put him in a dark, heavily decorated and humid room with a thick crowd and an energon-soaked atmosphere. After his crowing fight and for good behavior, they allowed him to dwell among the high-paying public. Of course, he was only medically treated as far as keeping him from dripping on the floor so the security detail in the background around him could easily subdue him.
That was fine, they were wise not to trust him as he was getting loud about his ideas for a better system. He works the hardest, but his owner gets all the rewards. His opponents die and the crowd cheers like they have the victory- that death is even something worth celebrating. It's disgusting everywhere he looks; even when some fans approach him and awe over his wounds.
They were the only fools willing to approach him. Though highly aware of the barrels aimed at his back, he began to talk to them.
It was answering some of their questions, for starters, asking about them and their caste. If they expressed any complaints at all, he found a way to relate to them without making complaints himself.
This was a thrill but, again, it was something said that triggered the emotion. One of the looser-mouthed fans had blurted out during his empathy quests: "Mech, you're right. The limits to what we earn are stupid. How come no one else knows this?"
Those words "you're right" are firstly what put a smile on his face, but his decision to change the world ignited a fire he didn't know he had. It was brighter than the praise he got as a miner doing a good job or earning rank. This, he had never felt before, and from then on, he clung to it.
Megatron closes the memory and quickly moves onto the next: no retorts, no cooing, and no more wasted time on examining her disappointing reactions.
This hurts more than he thought.
The next one was on a particularly bad day. Though his fights in the ring were going well, he was given one cell for another that was merely bigger and had a bed. He got a new doctor with no concern for pain named Shockwave, and then he was sold to a new owner that only bought champions and snooped into everyone's business through a "favorite drone".
This boss would later be the first civilian Megatron would kill.
But until then, he got stuck in a rut with all these changes happening within two solar cycles. Suddenly his fire was gone, and he felt like nothing he was doing was getting anywhere. All his speeches to the crowd were falling on deaf, uncaring audio receptors. No one cared what eloquent words he was saying or whether or not they made sense. Their cheers and adorations drowned him out; all his efforts and he was still nothing.
Out of desperation, he tapped into a Grid feed behind his owner's back to find out for sure if he was making any impact at all. That's when he came across a message, just for him...from a data clerk in Iacon. Iacon! His voice was reaching a skeleton-like crew in Iacon!
Calming himself down, he treaded carefully. He needed to make sure this wasn't a trap, as he expected his ideas would upset some pompous higher-ups.
He knew it wasn't a trap as soon as this anonymous data clerk began feeding on his ideas and reflecting new perspectives and thoughts. The fire returns and Megatron felt comfortable enough to meet him in person.
That fateful day, he met Orion Pax for the first time in person, he grasped his shoulder warmly and invited him in to introduce Soundwave and Shockwave, plus the roots where all his beliefs were grown.
A data clerk from Iacon! Someone from a higher caste, listening, coming, and sacrificing time to understand. Someone to feed and reflect his ideas for better things.
Redemption at last. His fallen miners can rest. SparkSplitter was wrong. He's making the difference he believes in because at last, he's heard and understood...
From a data clerk in Iacon.
Megatron ends it there after being shamefully aware that he was savoring that moment. He turns away from her and quickly demands out loud: "Knockout, disconnect us, now."
"Wait," Sonica starts, "that's only two. Do you want the information or not?"
He fights his anger, hard, and doing so zaps his strength, unclenching his fists and slouching his shoulders, "That's all I have."
She shuts up and not in the way that's satisfying. He feels her leave.
"Knockout!" He barks and finally the connection is thrown forwards and into the bright lights of the ship's ceiling.
He sits up as Knockout moves to unhook her and he gets on his feet. He stands tall and rests his hands behind his back.
"If any of you," He mostly stares at Sonica, Knockout...and Dreadwing, who's suddenly there, "I mean any of you, say a word of what you saw in here, I will terminate you without question."
With that, he walks out and tries to leave the awkward, exposed, and vulnerable aura behind him. Instead, it follows like a smoke tail. It's the first time he's felt like this in a long time.