A wild update appears. Two years and five months after the last one. There's a bit of an explanation into why that is in the bottom author's note, if you care to read it.
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro.
"Rat—rath-han? No, no. Rathion. Rathian. Barn—barr. Bern. Bar-on-ess of the House of Onz—Onax No, no, no. On-ex. Onyx. Baroness of the House of Onyx, second of her name, First Shape of the Skies of Nilon, the Waters of Foru and the Lands of Has-car, the Guardian of the Beasts and the Beastshapers, Slayer of the Thoughtless, Killer of the Killers, Champion of the Wind, Tamed-by-None, and Femme of the Lok."
He took a breath.
Surface people had a lot of names.
"Rathian," he went on, "was a Ruler of the House of Onyx. Her four wings were an unusual feature, even by the standards of the Claimed of Onyx. She was famed for her strength, in both ch—chat. Care-act-ter. In both character and frame. She acted as high general of her city-nation in a great num—nump, nunbar—many wars, and was greatly feared by her enemies.
"It is bel—bella, beell." He sighed, frustrated. "Bell—eved. Believed. It is believed Rathion was the fav—fav. Fav-or-it. Favorite con… Cancort. No, consert. Consort. The favorite consort of Onyx Prime." He frowned.
What was a consort?
"Megatronus!"
Megatronus looked up. Chief D-16 was standing there, servos crossed. "Been looking for you for twenty klicks," he said, stepping closer. "Why aren't you recharging?"
"I'm supposed to read one breem a cycle," Megatronus said. "One breem a cycle so I can learn. That's what Acer said in his note."
Chief D-16's serious optics dimmed. "Yeah. I know, kid. But some cycles, ya can't spend that much time off on your own. Especially when you're not at 114. We're here to help a Hub reach their quota. We don't get long breaks."
Megatronus lowered his gaze, feeling the mild rebuke in Chief D-16's voice.
They—all of D-Tunnel, actually—had been sent not one, not two, but five Hubs over to A-109 by 114's Management. A-109 had suffered an accident like 114 had. Only worse. Instead of blowing up deep within a tunnel, their E-20 charges went off close to the entrance. It was so bad other crews from other Hubs had been sent to fill in the gaps until permanent replacements could be found.
He'd seen the bodies when they first arrived, all on 109's elevator, waiting to be sent to the surface. He couldn't count how many there were.
"Megatronus."
Chief D-16's voice made him realize he hadn't been listening. "Sorry, mister D-16."
The older mech sighed. "Come on, let's get to work. A-109's counting on us."
"Okay." Megatronus stood, closing his book and moving out from the out-of-the-way corner he'd hidden himself away in.
Chief D-16 put a servo on his shoulder-joint when he started for the Hub Proper. "Leave the book, kid."
"Oh, I won't lose it in the tunnel. I've taken it a lot back i—"
"Yeah, I know you have," Chief D-16 cut in, optics serious. "But the problem is, we're not at 114 anymore. Leave it here. It's safer out of sight."
Megatronus frowned. Safer?
"Just… Trust me, alright kid? Leave the book."
Megatronus kept frowning, but did as he said, placing it back where he'd been sitting.
"There a nook it might fit in?"
"Huh?"
"More out of sight, kid. Don't leave it where you can see it if you pass by."
What was he talking about? Why was he so concerned? Did he think someone would take it? They'd just give it back! Miners watched out for each other. He learned that from Acer.
Still, he did as Chief D-16 asked; he wanted him happy. When he hid Acer's book in the empty space between some metal supports in Hub A-109's version of Shack Tower, Chief D-16 led him back into the Hub Proper.
A-109's Proper wasn't like 114's. It was bigger, but emptier. Quieter. And not just because of the accident. Its tram—made up of four tracks instead of one—was never close to full. Even during peak working breems, he didn't have to raise his voice to talk to someone. Not that he did a lot of that; people weren't friendly in 109. They weren't rude, of course—but they didn't talk like they did in 114. Here, people only talked if they were working. There weren't big gatherings during ration time, or echoes of laughter as jokes were exchanged. Not even between crews.
Megatronus didn't like 109.
He and Chief D-16 arrived back at their assigned rest zone, a metal tent in the middle of 109's Proper that was barely large enough for Megatronus and the rest of the crew of D-16 to lay down on the floor. It was one of scores set up for the visiting workers of A-114.
Chief D-16 leaned into the tent, where the others were still resting. "Break's over, D-16s! Time to tunnel!"
Silent D-16 sat up immediately, his grey optics dismissing the grog of recharge in two quick blinks. Big D-16 took longer, rolling first to his side, then his tank, before getting up, his pickaxe held close to his chestplates.
"What tunnel are we going to this time, mister D-16?" Megatronus asked.
"U-25," said Chief D-16. "Grab the spare batteries."
Megatronus walked to the back of the tent where kept their mining equipment. He picked up a metal large case—as wide as his shoulder-joints and the same length deep and tall—and hauled it out from the pile. Even with his abnormal strength for his age, he struggled under the case's weight.
A much larger servo grabbed the top of the battery case, and Megatronus let it go. He looked up, and there Big D-16 stood, tucking the case under one of his enormous servos. "Thanks!" He said.
Big D-16 smiled, the act as genuine and large as he was himself.
"Alright, let's move," Chief D-16 said.
Megatronus and the others followed Chief out of the mess of tents and to the station for A-109's tram. The tram station had four platforms, each serving a different Carrier tram. A-114 had only one Carrier per main tunnel, so seeing four made Megatronus where all the people were. The platforms along the terminal were big enough for half the people of A-114 to stand on at once, but they were all almost empty besides the occasional other crew. None of the other crews looked in their direction except one group at the far side of the platform, waiting on Carrier-1. Chief D-16 kept looking at them, but Megatronus didn't know why.
After a wait that seemed like forever, their tram arrived—Carrier-4. It was a lot bigger than A-114's tram, but also a lot dirtier and rusty. Loud.
But he didn't have trouble finding a seat. So that was nice!
After getting into the Carrier's car, Chief-16—who hadn't sat down—hit the big, flashing metal button near the door, signaling to the tram's AI they were ready to depart. A few micro-klicks later, the door on their Carrier car closed, and the tram moved into the tunnel.
They went past dark, empty side passages and mining tunnels long untouched by crews. Broken mining equipment sat abandoned off the tram rails, rusting in place or disassembled to make parts for other, working machines. What few miners the tram passed by looked like they were working at half speed. Not in a rush to meet demand. Or for the fun of it.
Just working because they were supposed to try.
After a while, Chief D-16 hit the stop request near the door, and the tram came to a slow, screeching halt. He looked at them. "We're here. Unload."
They took off the spare batteries and their other equipment—a trio of demo charge cases—off as quickly as they could so the tram could move to the next tunnel.
Once unloaded, Chief D-16 hit a nearby signal, and the tram sluggishly continued. Then they grabbed their equipment—carried mostly by Big D-16—and started into their tunnel of U-25.
U-25 wasn't like most of the tunnels Megatronus had worked in. It wasn't straight, or even curved like the other miners were following a vein of ore. It just kind of drifted left or right, then straightened, then drifted again. Like someone hadn't been using the tunnel machine right. Or been paying attention. Didn't they know that was dangerous?
"Okay," Chief D-16 said, when they arrived at the end of the tunnel. "Big guy, put that stuff down. You two." He pointed two digits at Megatronus and Silent D-16, who, despite standing right next to him, was never in the place Megatronus thought he was; he could have sworn Silent was still behind Big D-16… "Head over to the boring machine. Make sure it's in working order."
"Yes, mister D-16!"
Megatronus went to the drill and eagerly started looking it over. Of all the jobs there were in mining, being the boring operator was his favorite. He supposed it was from how cool it felt to be good at something; he'd taken to the boring machine on his first cycle of mining.
But there was something else to the machine that drew him. Made him feel important. Special. He couldn't figure out why.
The boring machine of U-25 looked very new; its surface was barely dirty. But upon looking closer, Megatronus realized it was older than the one he used back in A-114. Its teeth, while still mostly present, were worn down to useless nubs of metal. Not fit for cracking and pushing rock harder than most of the metal they hunted. Its treads were in a similar state. Of the six, only one was in the kind of shape he'd tolerate in A-114.
"This is pretty rough," he called out from where he hung on the side of the machine, testing the strength of the main drill bit at the front of the machine, only for his hand to come back with a clump of rust. "I don't think the people who use this drill pay attention like they should."
Someone tapped his pede, and he looked down.
Silent D-16 stood there, holding an actuator that was completely covered in rust that had worn all the way through to the other side.
He climbed down and accepted the actuator. Rolling it over in his servos, Megatronus was shocked that it felt oily to the touch. Recently greased. "Was this being used?" He asked.
Silent D-16 nodded.
Megatronus shook his helm and walked back to Chief D-16, Silent D-16 following. "That boring machine can't be used," he said.
"That bad?" Chief D-16 asked, not turning from the crate he'd just opened.
Megatronus held up the actuator. "Worse. Look at this."
He finally did, taking the part from Megatronus' servo. "Certainly looks like junk," Chief said, frowning. "Could probably snap this if I tried."
"No one can go in that machine," Megatronus said. "It's dangerous."
"Most of what we do is dangerous. Fix it up best you can, use whatever we got for parts. We'll take it slow."
He dropped the actuator to the ground, then turned to his earlier work.
Megatronus stared at Chief D-16, waiting. Waiting for something else. Some sign of a joke that he so often missed.
He didn't see one.
"Mister D-16," he said. "We can't repair that drill."
"Did I say to repair it?" Chief D-16 asked, turning to him. "I said do what you can. We have a quota to fill."
"But, Mister D-16—"
"We don't get to decide where and how we work, kid. Get to it."
He went back to the crate.
Megatronus stood there, shocked. He wanted to say no, no he wouldn't fix the drill. He wanted to talk again. Get Chief D-16 to understand the drill wasn't safe. But he knew that tone—that firm voice. Adults got that way, sometimes, when they didn't want anyone to argue with them. Even when they were wrong.
Megatronus swallowed—both physically and the complaints he wanted to keep sharing—and turned back to the drill. Now that he knew how bad it looked inside, the outside looked worse to him. No longer did it look shiny and new. Now, it looked like a trap. A ticking bomb, waiting to explode.
Like the charges Acer had tested.
"Well, where do we start?" He asked Silent D-16.
Silent D-16 pointed to the part on the ground.
"Right, I think we might have some backup actuators in the crates."
He and Silent D-16 went through the parts they brought with them. As Megatronus thought, they did have spare actuators. Spare in that, while better than the junk the boring machine had in it, they were used parts from the machine back in A-114. None of them had been refurbished, and there were only three of them. Boring machines mostly had six actuators.
The one in their tunnel had nine.
They were going to have to be careful about which parts they replaced.
They looked at all the actuators in the boring machine. Three of them weren't as bad as the one Silent D-16 pulled out, but the rest were as bad or worse. They replaced three of the bad ones at random, then moved onto doing what they could for the dull drill bits.
"Can we help you?"
Megatronus perked up at Chief D-16's voice. He looked up, expecting to see the older mech's faceplate peering into the engine chamber.
No one was there.
Megatronus frowned and shared a look with Silent D-16. He looked as confused as Megatronus felt. Big D-16 didn't talk like them. Who was Chief talking to?
"Depends on what you consider help."
The voice that spoke wasn't one he recognized.
Megatronus' spark beat sped up. Carefully, he climbed up from the engine block, poking his helm out to see what was happening.
There was another crew in the tunnel. The same crew Chief D-16 had kept looking at.
There were seven of them, all big and dirty. Their paint was chipped and worn. Faded before its time. One was missing an optic, while another was missing several digits. They wore smiles as they walked toward Chief D-16, but something was wrong about them.
Chief stepped into Megatronus' view, meeting the strangers just before they reached the crates Big D-16 carried in. "I'm not sure what you mechs are hoping to find; we're miners, same as you."
One of the other crew—the smallest one, who was still Chief's height—stepped closer. His smile widened, showing a series of bent and broken denta. Megatronus felt nervous looking at them. "Yeah, you are."
He punched Chief in the tank. Hard. Chief fell to the floor, coughing. The others laughed. Big D-16 tried to move to his side, but four of the mechs blocked him off, holding up jagged pieces of metal.
"But you're also rich," the first mech said, kicking Chief back to the floor before he could pick himself up.
"Rich?" Megatronus could hear the shock in Chief D-16's weakened voice. He heard the pain, too. "We're not rich. We're not even Management level. We're like you."
"No, you're not," said one of the others, running a servo over a crate and leaving behind an oil stain. "You got new stuff. Stuff Hubs like ours don't see no more."
"Look, take whatever you want. There's no need for—"
The leader punched Chief D-16 in the faceplate, sending him onto his back. Energon soon leaked from his nasal plate and mouth.
"Stop!"
Megatronus knew as soon as he cried out that he'd made a mistake. He knew it as the head stranger looked up and saw Megatronus. And he knew it as another mech reached in and yanked him and Silent D-16 out of the boring machine and tossed them to the ground.
"Well, look what we have here," the leader said, stalking over to Megatronus and Silent D-16. "Bitlets."
Chief pushed himself up again. "Leave them al—"
Another punch from the leader sent him back down. "Shut it. Another word from you, and I'll start cutting off your digits." He turned back to Megatronus and Silent D-16, smiling that crooked smile. "What are you doing inside that machine, bitlets? Fancy yourself miners?"
"W—we are," Megatronus whispered.
The leader chuckled, the sound hollow, like he had a hole in an intake. "No, you ain't a miner, bitlet. You're still too fresh."
Something hit Megatronus in the back of the helm.
He fell, his frame limp, his vision black. Then it came back fuzzy, moving. His helm was throbbing. Something dripped into his optic, hot and stinging. Energon. His.
The leader's laugh was cruel. "That'll get you on the way!"
The others joined in the laughter, aiding their own, mocking words as they began going through the supplies Big D-16 had carried into the tunnel. The mech who pulled Megatronus out of the boring machine—the one, he realized, that had hit him—remained in place, standing over Megatronus and Silent D-16.
Why were they doing this? What did his friends have that these people didn't? Why didn't they just ask?
"Where's the good stuff?" The leader asked, glaring down at Chief.
"All we got is… Here," Chief D-16 said.
"No it ain't," the leader said, shaking his helm. "You fancy folk over at A-114 always get the best."
"I don't know what you think A-114 is like, but—"
The leader kicked Chief in the side. "Shut up. I don't wanna hear your lies."
"But it—"
The leader kicked him in the faceplate, sending him to the floor. Then he kicked him again. And again. And again. Each time shouting bad words, accusing Chief of insulting him, or telling Chief to shut up.
Megatronus felt tears at the corner of his optics, and not from the blow he'd suffered. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. This couldn't be happening.
Eventually, the leader stopped, stepping back from a barely-moving Chief. He spat on Chief, then pointed to Megatronus. "You. Bitlet. Where's the good stuff?"
"Don… Don't have…" Megatronus tried to get out more than that, but his CPU stopped working. He could see—barely—but he couldn't think. Couldn't get his mouth to work.
"Primus, Jax, how hard did ya hit 'im?" The leader asked, chuckling before looking at Silent D-16. "How 'bout you? Where's your best stuff?"
Silent D-16 said nothing.
"Bah. Hit 'im."
Silent D-16 fell with a rare cry as the mech who hit Megatronus hit him. The leader shook his helm, frowning. "What a waste of time. You'll be lucky if I don't tear off y're helms once we're through," he said, moving to the other side of the tunnel, out of Megatronus' sight. "Hey, big one. What's that pickaxe made of?"
Megatronus felt panic go through him. They couldn't do that to Big D-16. Not that. Don't take his pickaxe; it's all he had. All he liked. It wasn't even a good one. They had to leave it. They had to…
"Give it here!"
Megatronus felt something in his gut kick as Big D-16 made a sound of protest. A quiet, distressed sound of alarm he hadn't heard since Silent D-16 was young.
"Oh, ho! You like this thing, don't you?" The leader laughed, sound wicked and… Wrong to Megatronus. "Jax, come help us with this. I want this pickaxe!"
The mech standing over Megatronus and Silent D-16 stepped over them, heading where the leader and the other thugs were. Loud clangs followed. Then confused cries from Big D-16, loud and weeping. Haunting when out of sight.
"Leave… Alo…" Megatronus couldn't get the words out. Couldn't make them sound louder than a whisper, lost in the sounds of Big D-16 being beaten for a pickaxe worthless only to him.
Why were they so evil?
The agony of listening to Big D-16 reached a new height as the lead thug all the sudden stumbled into view, off-balance from leaning backward, Big D-16's pickaxe in his servos. Big D-16's cries turned to screams. Loud, panicked, sorrowful screams.
The lead thug smiled wider than he ever had, and only then, laying in the tunnel floor as he was—his helm spinning—did Megatronus see the foreign, alarming, alien look in the mech's eyes. The pure, unfeeling cruelty in his crooked smile. The joy of being cruel in his wrong optics.
Tears returned to Megatronus' optics. He let them fall.
The cruel mech noticed, and he turned his smile on Megatronus, even as Big D-16's desperate howls increased. "Aww… You crying, bitlet? You sad because the big, bad mechs are being mean?"
Megatronus cried more.
"Hahaha! You stupid, worthless, waste of space and energon. This is life, bitlet. Best get used to bad things happening to ya. You don't—"
Big D-16 began to yell.
Not scream. Or howl. Or cry. Yell. A sound no longer desperate. No longer panicked. No longer sorrowful.
Furious, instead.
An odd thunk sounded out from around the corner, louder than the noise made as Big D-16 was being beaten. A series of grunts followed, sounding strained.
The lead thug looked back that way, scowling. He walked out of view. "Hey. You lot get that savage in 'is place. Stick 'im a few times."
New sounds came from around the corner. Sounds Megatronus had never heard. Big D-16 yelled louder.
"Hey, hey, watch that ser—WHOA!"
A great clang echoed down the tunnel as something hit the boring machine and moved it.
"TAKE 'IM DOWN! TAKE 'IM DOWN! TAK—gak!"
There was a strange, chilling, metallic crunch. Then there was screaming again.
It wasn't from Big D-16.
Other scary sounds rang around the tunnel. Clangs. Thunks. Snaps. All loud and accompanied by screaming, either before or after the other, scary noises. Before they would abruptly stop.
The lead thug came flying from around the corner, slamming into the tunnel wall at least thirty feet above the tunnel floor. He fell in a heap, still holding the pickaxe in one servo, his other servo not looking right. One of his pedes was bent backwards, and his chest didn't look like it was the shape it was supposed to be. Energon leaked out of him, lighting up the floor beneath him.
Wh… What? Megatronus thought, almost unable to put the thought together. How did that…?
Big D-16 stormed into view.
He didn't look like the Big D-16 Megatronus knew. He stood straighter. Walked faster. His optics, usually shining with content happiness, were wide and furious. Angry in a simple, terrible way that frightened Megatronus' spinning CPU.
The lead thug weakly pushed himself away from the approaching Big D-16. "No… No, please… Please."
Big D-16 lifted the smaller mech with one servo, bringing his other servo back in a huge fist. Then he started hitting the thug. Again. And again. And again. Big, powerful blows he punctuated with incoherent yelling. Crying.
It repeated forever.
Megatronus was stumbling his way up the tunnel, swaying on his pedes. Next to him, Silent D-16 was helping him along, less shaky than he was. Ahead of them, Chief was being carried by Big D-16.
And Big D-16 was covered in energon.
Megatronus remembered how they'd gotten there, but he didn't at the same time. He avoided the memory. Didn't want to experience it again. But unbidden and unwelcome, he heard it in his audios. Big D-16 throwing punches, the impacts growing wet. Chief D-16, slow of speech and movement, telling Megatronus to rip open the fuel line on the boring machine.
Why were the mechs so mean?
Silent D-16 let him slump down against the main tunnel wall, then Silent D-16 slumped down next to him. Chief was nearby, set down by the still-standing Big D-16. A thin line trailed behind Chief, leading back into the tunnel. Megatronus recognized it, but his fuzzy CPU couldn't remember what it was for, or what it was called.
"Brace… Yourselves…" Chief said, slowly, speaking as slow as Megatronus thought. Chief held up a button he held in his servo, then clicked it.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the line burned away in a flash.
A deep, ominous rumble followed, then a deafening explosion right after. Smoke and dust came billowing out of the tunnel they just came from. Then heat from a distant blaze.
Memory of another fire flashed in his CPU. One that still hurt. He had to… Save…
Megatronus stumbled up to his pedes, dimly aware Chief telling him to sit down.
Save… Acer.
He fell. An enormous, strong servo grabbed him as he did, gently setting him down to the ground.
The world went dark after that.
Megatronus onlined on a cot, with a beeping machine next to him. A healer's machine.
He was confused at first. Unable to recall how he'd gotten there or what happened that he would be at a healer's. When he remembered a moment later, he wished he didn't. Not certain parts, at least.
The healer came by a few klicks after Megatronus onlined. The healer was a gruff mech, never actually looking at Megatronus, instead focusing entirely on what his machines were telling him. He released Megatronus just as quick as he came in, saying something about talking to a healer from A-114 if Megatronus felt unwell.
Megatronus didn't like the healer.
Unable and unwilling to move quickly, he slowly made his way through the healer's tent, a thin metal structure that could be moved to various parts of a Hub, depending on where it was needed. It was filled with berths occupied by mechs who'd been injured in a lot of different ways. Megatronus usually avoided looking at wounds when he was in the healer's tent; the sight of energon and bad injuries usually made him feel uneasy. But after what he'd seen—and refused to think about—in the tunnel, he found himself looking more than he should have.
He didn't feel uneasy.
It took him a while to make his way out of the tent; A-109's healer's tent was a lot bigger than A-114's, and a lot less organized. Eventually, he got out and found the tent hadn't been moved from the Hub Proper. Did A-109 not move theirs?
He looked right, then left, and to the side, on a bench, saw his fellow D-16s. He approached them and saw Chief D-16 had a lot of fresh welds on his faceplate that looked raw and unpolished. A quick job. There was a dent in Silent D-16's helm that had been repaired roughly, if the missing paint was any indication.
Then there was Big D-16.
Now clean of energon, Big D-16 had a few patches on his armor and a few repaired dents like Silent D-16's. Other than that, he was the same Big D-16 as always. Looking excited and content, cradling his pickaxe close to his chestplates, speaking random words to himself that only made sense to him. He smiled as Megatronus approached. Before the tunnel, Megatronus had found the innocent gesture infectiously happy.
He found it chilling instead.
"You're up," Chief said, his voice sounding stronger than before, yet weaker than usual.
Megatronus said nothing. Couldn't think of what to say, either. He kept looking at Big D-16. Remembering. Hearing the sound of his huge fists hitting something again and again.
Chief stood up. It was then that Megatronus noticed he had a basic cane. At his frown, Chief said, "Part in my helm is still broken. Messes with my equilibrium. This'll help until it heals."
Numbly, Megatronus nodded, and he wondered if he was suffering from the same thing; he felt dizzy just standing there.
"Come on, D-16s," Chief said to their group. "We have a tram to catch."
Chief led them away from the healer's tent, and Megatronus thoughtlessly followed, keeping a distance from Big D-16. They moved in and out of bots moving debris from a tunnel, then arrived at the Inter Hub Transit Station. It was filled with a lot of trams lot like the trams that took them into the tunnels to dig, only way bigger. Cleaner. Kept up to a different standard than most things in the Hubs themselves.
They stood in line to board the tram to A-114. The next thing he knew, they were on a tram, seated because there were way more seats on the Inter Hub trams than the ones in the tunnels. He was sitting away from the others, facing Big D-16 with his backplates to the wall.
He didn't remember getting there. And he had left Acer's book.
For some reason, Megatronus wasn't as disappointed about that as he felt he should be.
The tram began to move, slowly building momentum. It would take a long time to reach its top speed, and it would take half a solar-cycle to get to the nearest Hub. It would take more than a mega-cycle to get back to A-114.
A few klicks into the journey, Chief stood from his seat and limped to Megatronus, slowly sitting down in the empty seat next to him. "You're distant," Chief said, quietly. "What's on your CPU?"
"Why aren't we being punished?" The question came easily to Megatronus' mouth, though he wasn't sure why.
"Why would we be punished?"
"For… What happened."
"Ah." Chief hesitated, looking ahead of them and behind them, at the other miners in their section of the tram. "Well, we're not being punished because it wasn't our boring machine that blew up."
Megatronus looked at Chief. He felt the frown on his faceplate. "Huh?"
"Wasn't our machine," Chief said. "It wasn't our fault the crews before us didn't do proper maintenance. Didn't change out parts that were dangerous to leave in disrepair. We can't be faulted for being bullied out of our assigned tunnel, either." He gave Megatronus a sideways look. "They had no idea how dangerous that boring machine was."
Megatronus grew more confused as Chief D-16 spoke. "But… That's not…"
"Apparently it was a matter of time that crew of tunnel hoppers picked the wrong one. They'd been doing that lately. Force their way into another crew's tunnel, take or mine some of the ore of the other crew, then add it on top of what they hauled in their own tunnel. We just so happened to be the next crew they forced off. We were lucky, too. If we hadn't been heading back to report the tunnel hoppers to A-109's Management, we'd have been caught in the blast, too."
"That's not wh—"
Chief gave him a sharp look. A harsh, warning stare, and Megatronus shut his mouth. "Do you understand, Megatronus? How lucky we are?"
There was meaning behind his words; Megatronus heard it. Sensed it. Chief had lied. Chief hadn't told anyone else what really happened in the tunnel. And he wanted Megatronus to lie, too.
But it was wrong. So, so wrong. Megatronus looked ahead, toward the rest of the crew. To Big D-16 and his too-kind faceplate. His too-happy and content optics. He could still see the energon splattered on the enormous mech of simple CPU.
"It's not the truth," Megatronus whispered, so quietly he wasn't sure if he heard the words himself.
Chief leaned forward, resting his servos on his cane. "No," he said, almost as quiet as Megatronus. "But it's what A-109's Management thinks, what they believe, and that's what's important."
"But it's a lie."
"What would you do? Have him taken away? Thrown into a cell, a pit, offline, or whatever it is that happens once Management calls for the Enforcers to haul someone away?"
Megatronus struggled with the mental image of D-16, shackled and confused, being dragged away from them. He'd seen mechs taken by the Enforcers before; every miner had. Even A-114, as well-run as it was, had a few bad people in it that hurt others. Those mechs, once Management had called in the visored Enforcers—scary, emotionless—the bad mechs had screamed like Big D-16 had. Screamed in horror, fear. Grief.
But Big D-16 had done something worse than any of those mechs. He'd… He'd…
Megatronus shut his optics and turned his helm to the side, banishing the memory before it formed. He watched the tunnel pass by outside, distracting himself with the sight of such an enormous, unending wall of exposed metal and rock. "I can't just pretend. I can't act like that didn't happen…"
Chief grunted. "Give it time. You will. Just… Try to look at it this way: without him, we'd probably all be offline."
That didn't help ease the screams echoing in Megatronus' helm.
Chief pulled himself up off the seat, moving to rejoin Big D-16 and Silent D-16. He paused. "Oh, and one more thing." He opened his subspace, reached in, then set a large object down on the seat he'd just left.
Acer's book.
Megatronus gasped, despite himself. "I thought I'd left it behind."
"You did. Can't be blamed for it, considering. Don't leave it again."
"But, you…"
"I was wrong. I didn't consider the situation. Don't be like me, kid." He winked at Megatronus, then limped back to his original seat.
Megatronus watched him go. Watched the way Silent D-16 perked up at his arrival. At how Big D-16 gave his wide, giddy smile. And how Chief addressed both of them in his own way. Playfully tapping Big D-16's shoulder-joint with his cane, then saying something to Silent D-16 that made him shake his helm, and Chief to chuckle.
He cared about them. Cared about Megatronus. Always looked for them. Helped them. Corrected them when they did wrong and explained why it was wrong. Megatronus knew, without Chief D-16 saying it out loud, that Chief would do anything to help him.
Apparently, even if he offlined someone.
Megatronus' optics flicked to Big D-16, and again all he saw was the energon and that terrifying, furious look in Big D-16's usually innocent optics. The way he'd stormed over to the fallen lead thug. The way he'd thrown his entire frame into each and every hit.
He shook himself, looking away. Why was this so hard? He remembered what the thug leader said. What he threatened to do. Big D-16 was the reason he was still online. He was Megatronus' friend. So why did Megatronus still see energon whenever he looked at him? Why didn't he want to be close to him?
Why did he want to throw up at the thought of lying?
He wasn't going to get answers right now, he decided. Or by thinking about the same thing over and over. He needed to do something else. He needed a distraction.
He picked up Acer's book and carefully turned its pages, trying to find the right one. Once he had, he picked up where he left off.
"She was famed for her strength in both character and frame. She acted as high general of her city-nation in a great nun—num—many wars, and was greatly feared by her enemies. It is believed Rathion was the favorite consort of Onyx Prime."
He still didn't know what that was.
"Lie" was the word that was meant to inspire this one; I honestly just wanted to write about young Megatron again.
Alright, so now to what I mentioned up in the top author's note.
Here's the summary: I'm not okay.
Well, I am. But I'm not. Creatively, anyway. I haven't been for about three years. Yes, it took me until this summer to let myself see that. And yes, I know it's been glaringly apparent since I update so infrequently. But it's true.
I'm not exactly sure what, specifically, started this creative plague in my mind. I remember being productive back then, writing updates on Origin with some form of regularity (admittedly less than I could have written), and updating Fate Calls or my NCIS story even more often. I remember having a very productive start to September of '17, and updating three stories at the same time. Intending on writing what was chapter 11 of this story in October or November of '17.
Then... I just stopped.
My creative mind broke apart, and it hasn't gotten itself back together. Even my novel and other original projects, which are the main priority in my creative pursuits just... didn't move. I forced everything forward at a snail's pace, writing out the things I wanted to but taking two or three times as long to get to them. I put aside projects I felt weren't important enough, even though they really all have the same level of worth when it comes to actual writing. I always said I didn't have the time for writing like I wanted to, but COVID has made me realize that's been a comforting lie I've been telling myself; the problem lies square with me. With my creativity and my muse.
It's not better, either. Even as I type these words, I know I am not the writer I can be. I know I am still falling prey to the same creative woe that has sucked my hobby away from me for literally years. All I can offer to you, my readers, is my apology that it took me this long to admit to myself that I have a problem.
But, there are hints I am beginning to get over this creative hump. My novel - which I have started, stopped, or scrapped nearly half a dozen times since I decided to pursue creative writing as an eventual career path - has, for the first time, a completed draft. At the risk of sounding arrogant, it's got a lot of potential; and the second draft is shaping up to be far stronger as well. This update was mostly written over the summer, as I began the long process of digging into why I am the problem with my writing and why it was I felt I didn't have "time" for anything. An update to another of my stories was written in the same timeframe. I was planning on updating Fate Calls as well - kind of to mirror September of '17, where my writing woes became way, way worse - just so I can say all of this once and move on, but Fate Calls is a monster, both in its current complexity and the sheer amount of characters and subplots I need to keep track of; it's update isn't ready, and I figured anyone who reads this has waited plenty long enough for another chapter.
So, I'm seeing signs I am moving in the right direction, and part of that direction is writing what I feel like writing in the moment, even if it takes me away from the projects I want to write. My muse is strange, what can I say. Obviously, I have a ways to go, but progress is progress. I hope you understand that I have not been trying to be lazy, or just don't care. I really do. I just need to keep working through the block I created for myself, and get back to writing for myself.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Masks and pamphlets are available in the lobby.
Thank you all for reading, and may you stay safe, healthy, and happy. I sincerely hope you all do.
See you soon.