Chapter 4. Your Name
Author's note: Hello everyone, sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Many have asked me if the stories are dead. Rest assured they are not. I will try to upload at least once a month. Life threw me for a ride the last couple of months. I was laid off and had to take jobs with crazy hours. Ultimately I love writing this stories and I will continue to do so. So without further ado, please enjoy!
With the practice of thousands of eons of war, Megatron quickly put more distance between him and his mortal enemy. He aimed and began to fire up his cannon.
Optimus raised his hands up to show he was no threat.
" I wouldn't shoot, if I were you. You wouldn't be able to harm me anyways, since I fail to possess a physical form. "
Megatron looked at him critically. He seemed to be here. So how could he not actually be here?
Megatron cautiously moved forward. Optimus quietly observed him. Hands up in the air he stood as still as he could as to not spook the war lord.
Megatron reached out as if he were to place his hand on Optimus' arm. It went through. Optimus wasn't all there. Optimus put his hands down and quietly met Megatron's optics.
"Why have you come? Have you come to see the awesome society that I have built along with my armies?"
"Actually," Optimus started as he began to walk down the hall. " I have come to see you."
" Oh? And to what do I owe this pleasure?" Megatron sneered as he fell into step with Optimus.
"You said my name." Came the simple reply.
"What?!" Megatron exclaimed. He stopped walking and Optimus turned to face him. Megatron was the same as always. But under the facade of anger and air of an all-powerful being, Optimus could still see the Megatronous he had first met.
The light shone differently in Kaon, than it did in Iacon. Here the tallest building was the 10 storied Justice building, where government officials worked. No glimmering skyscrapers to catch and reflect the sunlight in an endless loop of light.
"Those Kaonites are the scourge of Cybertron, they don't deserve the ground they walk on."
Orion Pax frowned as he watched the blue bot walk past him at the Kaon Transportation Hub. He knew that the sentiment was very much shared by most of the higher population in Cybertron. The thought that the place in which your Spark emerged dictated what you deserved and what you had to dedicate your life to, was one that Orion rejected.
Alpha Trion, his mentor, and only family, had brought him up a believer of Primus.
"Primus loves all of his children very much. From the highest government official to the lowest of the lowest caste. It is us who have put these values on ourselves. Not Primus."
Orion walked the dirty path leading to the Arena. Gladiator fighting was illegal. But for the right price the officials would turn the other way. Many of them actively placed bets and enjoyed the best seats in the housethehouse. But government officials weren't the only ones that visited the Arena.
Bounty hunters, pleasure bots, and shady bots also frequented the area. It was said that anything you needed or needed to get done, you could find the just the bot to do it at the Arena.
As Orion neared the entrance of the Arena, his Spark began to pulse quicker. Orion had never been in such mixed company or in any area dedicated to illicit activities. Alpha Trion had always steered him in the opposite direction. Always making sure that Orion could never be associated to anything questionable.
He pulled up the message he had received from Megatronus inviting him to see him at the Arena. They had only communicated in emails, and then personal lines. But never in person. It's easy to pretend to be someone you're not in simple messages. It was easy to be brave, to be optimistic, and to be a friend. In person, however, it wasn't the same.
In person there were more cues to read. Facial expressions, gestures, and tone. Orion had been reading the messages and assuming what tone the words were intended. But in person he would hear exactly the tone that the words were being said in. And Orion was afraid that Megatronus wasn't as amicable as he seemed.
He took his seat in one of the rows of prime seating. He was trying his best to ignore the looks he was getting. Everything about Orion screamed Iacon. His bright colored armor that gleamed in the light, his bright optics, the ridge of his helm, his smaller size. Orion could swear his gait was also marking him.
It didn't help his nerves that Alpha Trion didn't know where he was. Sure, Alpha Trion had encouraged his communications with Megatronus, but that didn't mean he would be pleased that his protege was in the very heart of the issue. As far as Alpha Trion knew, he had been called away from Iacon, by the researchers of Cybertron, to ease the recording of information.
The sudden loudness signaled the start of the Arena's rounds of gladiator fighting. Orion had seen fights before on the Data Nets, but to experience it in person, it was more horrific than Orion could bear. The talents involved in the dance of death depended on the earnings to live. But everyday, when they walked out into the arena, it very well could be their last moments.
Orion winced as he watched the brutality unfold. Energon soaked into ground, as it shook under the titans fighting. Orion thought that the ground may never dry. One round. Two rounds. Then finally, what Orion was eagerly, and slightly terrified, waiting. Megatronus entered the arena to the deafening sound of applause and cheering . His Spark plused painfully fast as the menacing figure of Megatronous raised his arms in the air welcoming the applause.
Orion did not notice the bots around him begin to take their seats. His optics were fixed on MegatronusMegatronous. Could he really be the one he had come all this way to see? Could he really be in favor of peace?
As the battle began, Orion trembled.
Orion knew Megatronous had won, when the deafening cheers of the Arena reached his audials as he quietly worked his way through the corridors in search of the Champions Lounge.
He had snuck past the refreshment bar, and through the gambling room. Back to where only employees were allowed. It had been so easy. Easier thanthen sneaking around Iacon's archives. Orion suspected that it wasn't all sheer luck. He had gotten a few glances as he had walked through the gambling room but no one had risen to talk to him.
Orion suspected his higher rank had kept them away and opened doors for him. He knew that his rank was present in everything that was him. The shiny, clean, bright colored armor. The smaller size and leaner built. The polished hands and crested helm. He screamed Iacon.
Megatronous, he witnessed, had a brutal, energon-thristy way of battling. Orion felt that the bots suffered more than necessary when meeting their demise in Megatronous hands. After the second mech had gotten their internal wiring ripped out, Orion decided that he had seen enough for one day. And decided that meeting him outside the Arena would be better.
Finally having found his objective, Orion reached for the handle and found he couldn't open the door. He bent over to look at the handle. There was no lock that he could see. No hand or optic scanner. He gave it another tug and then a push. The door wouldn't budge. No, the issue was that Orion was not strong enough to open the heavy door. The heaviest Orion had ever carried was ArchivalArchivial boxes from the basement to the Restoration Chambers. Where experts would inspect, clean, and transfer data into new Data Pads if they were old.
He vented in frustration when suddenly a shadow covered him and he looked up, much to his chagrin, into the blue optics of Megatronus. Orion hadn't fully realized how much taller Megatronus was. Up close he could see all the scars his battles in the Arena,and probably out of the Arena too, had left on his armor.
"You must be the archivist from Iacon." Megatronous stated. Orion awkwardly cleared his throat and moved aside. Megatronous easily pulled open the door.
"After you," he nodded at Orion gesturing him in. Orion walked in into a large well lit lounge. Comfortable sofas, an energon dispenser, and gambling tables filled up mostfilled most of the room. A wall kept the occupants posted on who had been winning in the Arena. Orion could see that Megatronous had been undefeated in all the rounds.
"You know, I didn't always win." Megatronous stated, pulling Orion out of his thoughts. Megatronous sat down on the sofa with a drink in his hand. " Everyone starts out by losing some battles. The important thing is to not lose the important battles. You would loselost more than the battle if you didn't."
Orion took the seat in front of him. "You won all the important battles."
Megatronus shrugged. " That and all the important sparks. You don't get far if you don't win them too. In Iacon, it might be done more subtly, but here in Kaon. If someone wants you dead, you will die in front of everyone."
Orion shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. He knew Megatronous was right. In Iacon a higher rank could easily pay someone to make your life miserable or end it. It was rumoured that certain mechs in the High Council would resort to hiring bounty hunters to silence you. But if there was evidence for it, it was swept under the
"You are very quiet for someone who came all this way to see me," Megatronus stated, leaning forward, optics narrowing in suspicion.
"Why is your door so heavy?" Orion blurted out. It made him nervous to have the world's greatest gladiator look at him that way. He had nothing to hide, but he could see why his quietness might make the rebellion leader nervous.
Megatronous's optic widen, as he drew back and to Orion's chagrin, started laughing. His laughes were loud, and deep. Orion could feel the room vibrate as the titan in front of him continued to laugh.
"You should see the look on your face." He laughed. Orion felt warm as energon began to well up behind his cheeks. He knew he was slightly pouting. He wasn't a super social mech, but usually the only mech that would embarrassed him for his inquisitive nature.
"The door is heavy because gladiators have a bad habit of pulling the door open with too much force resulting in the door coming off the hinges or getting sunk into the wall. By making it heavier, it takes more force to open and it's less likely to be ripped off the hinges. But tell me archivist, why are you here?"
And so the night went on, as Orion and Megatronus drank and talked. Kaon was more then meets the optic and Iacon was more superficial than Orion had dreamed. But now a new dream was taking root in his mind. One where he could help lead his people to a new freedom.
Never in his wildest dreams, could Orion have imagined that he would be leading his people toward freedom, wielding a sword against the mech who laughed with him that night. Or that he would be standing here, in a rebuilt Iacon, after losing an important battle, a war. But having had his spark won by Megatron.