Militus Macht

He would have to have a word with Terminus. Technically his vassal hadn't lied about this Tarnian, but any fool could see that his value as a gladiator vastly outweighed his value as a miner. Terminus had been hiding the young robot's potential; fortunately this Megatron had no problem showing what he could do. Militus had run him through the gamut of testing, both physical and mental, and the physical results were astounding, the highest scores he'd ever seen in an unmodified frame. Intellectually he had proven to be roughly average, which was more than sufficient for what Militus had planned for him. He gazed over at the Tarnian in question, the both of them walking toward the rundown structure on the outskirts of Kaon. "Who gave you your name?"

"Terminus." The youth replied. The tone wasn't insolent, but it seemed to lack the appropriate respect that should be present when a commoner addressed the head of the ruling House of Polyhex, but commoners with such a high degree of talent and potential deserved far more leeway than the useless masses of resource consumers.

"Are you aware of what the suffix signifies?" Militus asked.

"I'm not sure." Megatron replied. "It's reasonably common."

"Yes, but only in Polyhex; a case of commoners in this emirate aspiring to some form of nobility." Militus replied. "It's derived from the ancient warlord Galvatron. History records that he was of House Macht, but in fact he was born a commoner. My House offered him membership after the militia he created had conducted successful incursions into Altihex, Uraya and Nyon, and Jugatus Macht, head of the House at that time, felt it would be better to make him a member before Galvatron considered turning his might inward. As a member of House Macht, his conquest expanded throughout the majority of the planet, only coming to an end once Gallus Honorum led his forces through The Tagan Heights, into Polyhex, captured Kolkular where Galvatron had left the Matrix he had pulled out of Prime Nova's corpse as a trophy, and with the grace of the Matrix, Gallus became Guardian Prime and gradually battled Galvatron's forces to a standstill." Militus smiled as the two entered the large and seemingly dilapidated gymnasium. "Of course, apart from Galvatron's common beginnings, even the most uneducated of Polyhexians is aware of this. Galvatron's origins are known to many throughout the emirate, and to a lesser degree throughout other parts of the planet, and the commoners here cling to the pride they have in their fellow common born Polyhexian's accomplishments, and have used his suffix as a symbol of the potential greatness of Polyhexian commoners."

Megatron nodded as he glanced throughout the vast indoor arena laid out in front of him, noting the roughly two dozen warriors sparring and training with one another. "I have been accused of arrogance on more than one occasion, but I assure you, I had no part in selecting my name."

"Yes, you mentioned that." Militus answered as they approached a lean but powerful robot of dark gray, green, orange and purple coloration. "Terminus obviously had high expectations for you." The leader of House Macht beckoned the warrior to approach them. "More often than not those with the suffix Tron chose their names themselves. Banzaitron here is one such individual. Like most that chose to add the suffix to their name, Banzaitron had grand aspirations. Aspirations that led him to a life of crime, which resulted in me removing his transformation cog. But despite the loss of his alternate mode, he proved to be one of the most skilled warriors I've ever seen." Militus smacked Megatron hard in the back, almost pushing him toward the other warrior. "And he's going to be your first teacher."

Banzaitron peered Megatron up and down. "Big, and undoubtedly strong and durable, but he looks like a simple laborer."

Militus laughed. "Not a bad assessment, but his earliest years were spent on the streets of Tarn where he developed a reputation as one of the most dangerous brawlers in the entire city." He looked Megatron over much as Banzaitron had done, and like with Banzaitron, the envy of Megatron's physical gifts was well hidden. "Exceptional potential; in dire need of a great deal of polishing."

"Ah, a street fighter, well then, let's get to work." Banzaitron nodded, and Militus backed away. Megatron looked to Militus, clearly unsure of what was expected of him, and failed to see Banzaitron's attack. The powerful crescent kick whipped through the air and connected with the side of Megatron's head, sending the miner stumbling back and falling to one knee. He turned and looked up just as Banzaitron's follow-up left roundhouse smashed his nose. Megatron's head dropped down, but he started back up, only to have a right snap-kick catch him under his left optic and knock him onto his back. Banzaitron howled with laughter at his downed opponent. "Where did you find this lump, Lord Macht?"

Megatron sprung back to his feet and started marching toward Banzaitron, fury blazing out of his optics. "We're still at work, Banzaitron." Megatron threw an aching right punch, followed by a left uppercut, both of which Banzaitron was able to dodge and parry, and retaliated with a knee that landed against Megatron's abdomen while simultaneously slamming an elbow to Megatron's chin. Despite the power of the dual strike combination, Megatron was completely un-phased and delivered a head-butt to Banzaitron's nose that sent the warrior stumbling back. Before being able to get his bearings, Banzaitron was laid out by a left roundhouse. The martial artist's optics flickered a couple of times before everything cleared up to reveal Megatron standing over him with an arrogant grin on his face.

"OK, the kid has potential." Banzaitron nodded as he extended his hand for Megatron to help him up.

Orion

He watched nervously as all the strangers they passed smiled at Torenia, some bowing slightly, and some stopping to greet her. All that passed stared at him questioningly, those few that stopped to speak asked about him, to which Torenia simply stated his name and explained that he was a newborn spawned in the recent birthquake, found in an otherwise empty field just inside of The Torus Heights border with Nova Cronum. Orion was aware of very little about the world, but even the newborn was able to sense that Torenia was hiding something when describing his origins. But as both instinct and Torenia had instructed, he remained quiet, observing all and awaiting enough knowledge to provide context for these early observations. He merely smiled at the newcomers when they addressed him, those with a feminine form like Torenia's commented on how handsome he was, some giving Torenia a slightly accusing look before saying their good-byes.

The two continued on through the courtyard, the air chilly and the semi-solid precipitation Torenia had told him was called snow falling all around them, providing a thin layer of the substance on the ground beneath them. Ahead of them lay their destination, an enormous metal structure that was easily twenty times larger than any of the other structures that they had passed since disembarking from the barge that Seaspray, a small boat that turned into a small robot, had hauled to shore. Orion's first glimpses had been of looking up at the sky, and then Torenia's face while on the deck of that barge, one filled with supplies. Upon reaching land, he had watched Torenia walk off to talk with Seaspray, and Orion had watched as the smaller robot nodded and bowed to Torenia, seemingly assuring her of something before heading back into the sea and transforming.

Torenia had led him by foot for the first day. The first mile was very difficult; Orion's new legs were very wobbly, and during that time Torenia had jacked a cord from her wrist into his neck to transfer data regarding their language, and very little else. But after several minutes everything changed. His body quickly started to harden, to strengthen; the overwhelming weight of his own frame quickly became as light as pebbles compared to how it had been just minutes before. Torenia had told him that was normal, that the spark that had given him life had devoted most of its existence so far to forming his internal mechanisms, but that after a few days that was almost complete, and the spark was now devoting itself to developing his outer shell and robotic musculature. But though she had said it was a normal process, even Torenia was stunned at how light and quick his movements had become, at how easily he removed the few obstacles that were in their path. Orion had considered that perhaps he wasn't normal, that perhaps there was something special about him, but he disregarded such thoughts; despite his youth, even he knew that everyone thought of themselves as special. Orion was just like everyone else.

They had eventually made it to a small village, where they were able to gain transport, one that had gotten them to Polarus in a matter of a few hours, during which time Torenia had instructed Orion to say nothing about his first days, especially anything having to do with him being on the sea. She stressed the importance of this to him most earnestly, though she had refused to explain why it was important. Perhaps she would reveal this to him later, when she too felt that he had acquired enough knowledge to provide some semblance of context.

They finally reached the massive edifice, a structure as large as a small city, one that she had called Tyger Pax and had informed him that had been her home, and with the permission of its lord, his home as well. They marched through dark hallway after dark hallway, through countless rooms of all sizes, passing more robots, these individuals displaying delight and affection at seeing Torenia that was beyond genuine, as was her joy at seeing them. There were stout warriors who were likely guards, and other robots of every size and form that seemed to be attending to the castle's needs in some way or another, and all beamed him welcoming smiles that were apparent even if their faces possessed plates over their mouths. But though everyone seemed to be friends, the greetings were kept short so that Torenia and Orion could continue on toward their destination, a meeting with the lord of the House and sovereign of the emirate, Arlon Pax.

It took them a few more minutes, but they were soon entering a vast chamber with an elevated platform on the far end, and on that platform were several large chairs, and in the middle was a single entity table with slats on either side, and sitting at the table, between the slats, was a large, quadruped with a long snout, upright ears and two deeply set orange optics, its metal a dark gray with shades of blue throughout. A broad smile stretched over its bestial face upon seeing Torenia approaching. "My dear Torenia, it is wondrous to see you again. We had received word from a sea captain based in Iacon that you had been aboard his ship when it sunk, that he had seen you on Insula Avalonus when you disappeared into the jungle, never returning. He claimed that Elita Solus had told him that you had found another way off the island, which she confirmed when I contacted her directly, though her assurances did little to alleviate the worry that was felt by all Polarus."

"I am sorry to have caused such concern; I just felt like setting out on my own, and after the shipwreck, felt I needed to get back with the aid of an old friend, someone I could trust." Torenia replied.

"And who might that have been?" Arlon asked, annoyance starting to show.

"Seaspray." Torenia answered.

"If you were able to contact Seaspray, then you'd have been able to contact us." Arlon snapped, his annoyance more noticeable.

"I was hoping to be back in Polarus before word of the shipwreck reached you." Torenia responded. "It was poor judgment, I admit."

Arlon Pax looked her over before turning his appraising optics toward Orion. "And who is this?"

Orion nodded nervously, but remained silent as Torenia had instructed him earlier and allowed her to answer on his behalf. Instead he continued to study Arlon and the details surrounding the platform, in particular the words made up of shiny yellow metal over the dais that he was perched upon. The download that Tornenia had provided him was strictly for their verbal language, but on the trip they had come across numerous signs, which she had read to him when he asked what they were, and on the trip to Polarus she had taught him their alphabet and the sounds they made. Using his rudimentary understanding of the written language, he pieced together the words above Arlon as 'Freedom is the right of all sentient beings'. Orion considered these words as Torenia addressed Arlon.

"This is Orion, a newborn I came across just inside our borders, near the Mithril Sea." Torenia answered, a slight bit of nervousness in her voice. "I chose to bring him here, and with your permission, I would like to find him a place here, to provide him with an education, and to allow him the freedom to choose his path in life."

Arlon peered intently at the two of them. "I would be happy to provide him shelter and our fullest hospitality for a short while, but what you propose, an upbringing within Tyger Pax and access to all of our resources, is a right reserved for those emerging from the Sacred Pool of Tyger Pax." The lord of House Pax then looked directly at Orion. "I bid you welcome, and wish you the greatest of fortune Orion, but I cannot provide you a home here long term."

"Where did you say he emerged?" Another voice interrupted their conversation. Orion turned to the side of the large room where the voice had originated, and watched as a tall, slender masculine robot that had odd adornments on his upper lip and chin approached the center of the chamber, meeting Orion's inquisitive and appraising stare with one of his own.

Torenia smiled at seeing the new robot enter. "Greetings A-Three, it is good to see you again."

"As it is to see you, Lady Torenia." A-Three replied. "But I am curious as to where this youth originated from."

"I found him shortly after arriving on the shores of Burthov, in a field north of that city." Torenia responded, glancing nervously at Orion, apparently hoping he would remain quiet. He had been aware as they disembarked prior to Seaspray's arriving at the Port of Burthov, and she knew that he knew she was lying to these robots, but he was unaware as to why.

"I'm not aware of any hot spots in that region, or anything more than trace amounts of elements that could be used as sentio metallico." A-Three answered, confused.

Torenia shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, A-Three, I was passing by and found a protoform."

A-Three studied her face for a moment more before turning his scrutiny toward Orion. After several tense seconds of study, A-Three called out to Arlon, keeping his optics locked on Orion as he did so. "My lord, if it pleases you, I would like to provide tutelage to this youth in my free time, or if permissible, in conjunction with the Pax newborn." A-Three turned to Torenia, well aware of the look of confusion coming over her face. "He emerged from the Sacred Pool in the recent pulse." He turned back to Arlon. "I understand if this is unacceptable to you and wish me to train him in my off hours and to do so off the premises of Tyger Pax, but I feel Roller and Orion could be of assistance to one another."

Arlon Pax peered at his old friend for several moments before answering. "If that is your will, A-Three, you are free to do so provided your duties to House Pax come first."

"Of course, my lord." A-Three turned to him and replied.

Sunstreaker

Every head turned as the two entered the large, dimly-lit tavern, though after a quick sizing up of the pair all optics turned back to their business; at least the optics belonging to those bearing masculine forms. The few femmes in the filthy, unseemly expanse continued staring at the newcomers, particularly the yellow, slightly more handsome and far more polished robot. Well, Sunstreaker smiled as he thought, perhaps more than just slightly more handsome. Sideswipe was undoubtedly a very good looking bot, femmes were always eager to gain his attention, at least until Sunstreaker entered the room and stole the optics and attention from his sibling. But they weren't here to pick up femmes, no, they were here for their other favorite pastime; they were here to pick a fight. "You know, I really wouldn't mind doing this if we weren't doing it for that boot-licking asshat Prowl."

"No choice, we've been framed for murdering the Prime, this is our only chance to clear our names." The red sibling replied as the two took seats in the center of the room. "We agreed this was a win-win; we get to make lots of money doing what we love, Prowl gets to find the real killer, or at least some poor shlub that isn't us to pin the assassination on, and then we all go our separate ways."

"You're an idiot, Swipe." Sunstreaker snarled as he nodded to a tavern-femme who had been receiving a great deal of attention from a large, imposing blue and yellow masculine robot and flashed two fingers, a grin and a flicker of his right optic. He smiled at seeing her scamper away from the cone-headed brute to attend to their order, and the look of fury coming over the abandoned goon and the hate-filled glare the goon sent the brothers. The bait had been laid, now it was just letting a scenario that had played out dozens of times before occur once again, this time in the service of their new long term objective. "Once we've gone our separate way, every crook, thug and near-do-well is going to be out to pull our sparks out through our tailpipes. We've spent days hunting down this particular scumbag, this very well connected scumbag, use him to get into this fight circuit, get to know the players, all the players, and then betray every last one of them. I'd almost rather a clean execution by Sentinel Honorum's hand than the messy torture-fest the gladiators and gangsters would give us."

"Yeah, you'd opt for a clean death while shackled over a brawl to the finish." Sideswipe smirked. "Besides, you won't be betraying anyone. Hell, you don't even need to be here, you just want in because you're a belligerent prick looking to rearrange the parts of other fighters. I'm the one that made the deal with Prowl; I'm the one that's going to be doing the informing and betraying."

"Yeah, like these degenerates won't know I'm with you in all endeavors." Sunstreaker grumbled. "I may think you're a jackass and consider what you're making us do insane, but I AM with you."

"Shut your hole and get into character," the red and black Autobot snapped as he smiled at the approaching waitress carrying two large vials of engex toward their table, "I've spotted the well connected scumbag over behind the bar."

Sunstreaker extended his wrist toward the femme as she placed the vials in front of the brothers and a panel slid open revealing a small screen. The tavern worker pulled a small device out and held it over the screen, scanning and transferring the cost of the engex. "Hey gorgeous." Sunstreaker peered up and grinned broadly at the femme, whose optics shone brightly in response to the attention. "Scan it again, you'll find a tip as well as my personal communication signal code."

"Can I get one without the other?" The waitress asked slyly.

"Sure, but I'd feel bad if you didn't accept the tip." Sunstreaker expanded his grin. The waitress scanned again, and Sunstreaker sensed that both the tip and his contact information were being pulled. "Keep 'em coming, even if my brother has trouble keeping up with me."

"Brother?" The femme asked, leaning against the table.

"Or so we're told." Sideswipe chimed in. "It's not like either of us were in any condition to be witnesses to the event."

"I know what we were told," Sunstreaker remarked, "but I'm pretty sure what really happened was that the green spark that formed my protoform sensed the generous nature of my newly forming brain module and branched apart to give this simple red mook some life."

The barmaid laughed. "Ah, yet another patron trying to impress me by claiming to have a green spark."

"No, I don't have one, I had one, and it split, leaving me with a common blue one." Sunstreaker corrected her with another smile.

"Green sparks are a myth." Sideswipe chimed in. "And even if they weren't, neither of us ever had one. Those that saw our birth mentioned nothing of the color green," the red sibling grinned at his brother "but I did hear tell of it being the spark in my protoform that split to give birth to this shiny shit-talker."

"Bah, that claim is the very epitome of shit-talking." Sunstreaker chuckled before looking back up at the femme. "But we are born of the same branched spark."

"I thought branched sparks resulted in weak robots." The barmaid commented with a playful grin.

Sunstreaker smirked. "We're the exceptions. I'd love to show you how strong I am."

"For the record, I'm stronger." Sideswipe quipped, earning him a glare from his brother.

The femme gave an appraising look over both robots. "There's definitely a resemblance," she reached over and brushed her hand against one of Sunstreaker's helm crests, "though there are plenty of distinctions as well."

"What the slag are you doing?" The roar erupted from the other end of the bar, just as Sunstreaker knew it would. He had been assuming it would wait until he had gotten the femme to sit in his lap, but apparently that would not be necessary. The large blue and yellow brute that the barmaid had been doting on prior to their entry rose from his chair, knocking it over in the process, and started marching toward the group.

"Is he watching?" Sunstreaker asked as he eyed the oncoming robot.

"Everyone is watching." Sideswipe replied, smiling as he watched Sunstreaker casually rise to his feet.

"Good." Sunstreaker smiled broadly.

"Don't, he's much bigger than you and he fights for a living." The barmaid warned Sunstreaker urgently.

"I know," Sunstreaker replied, gently pushing her toward Sideswipe, who took her and walked her away from the two soon to be combatants, "he's perfect."

"You got something to say, bitch?" The large but sleek robot bellowed a moment before lunging at the yellow newcomer. Sunstreaker twisted, and while taking the brunt of the force, he was able to flip the assailant over and onto the table, which toppled, sending him onto the filthy floor.

"All I have to say is reserved for your femme." Sunstreaker snapped, his grin still in place. "Primarily tips on how to look you in the optic and try to assure you that you're still adequate without laughing."

The big blue robot leapt to his feet and started for Sunstreaker once again. 'Predictable idiot' Sunstreaker thought as his left fist slammed into the oncoming face followed by his right to the side of his cone-head that sent the aggressor stumbling to the side. Sunstreaker lost his smile and gritted his teeth at seeing Sideswipe grin. Sunstreaker was the better warrior, but Sideswipe's earlier comment had been accurate, he was the physically stronger of the two. A roundhouse from Sideswipe would have put this guy on the floor, if not ended the fight, and the red shit would be sure to remind him of this later.

But Swipe lacked the skill and grace of Sunstreaker, and the yellow brother set out to demonstrate this as he set upon the belligerent jackass he was making an example of. Thirty seconds and six loud cracks later the blue and yellow robot's right arm was hanging uselessly at his side as he rose to his feet, viscous liquids leaking from several wounds on his face and body, his optics now wide with fear as he stared at the virtually unblemished yellow robot smiling evilly at him.

"Ramjet, Thrust; hold this prick down!" The blue robot roared over the commotion of the bar. Two similarly sized and shaped robots emerged from the crowd, one white with red, and the other red with black, both with cones over their heads.

Sunsteaker smiled broadly at the newcomers. "Swipe?" A red flash tore into the two would-be intruders. Sunstreaker watched his brother dismantle the pair, he was highly skilled, Sunstreaker was loathe to admit the fact that Sideswipe was almost as skilled as he was, but the jock liked to barrel in and rely on his athleticism and instinct more than his knowhow; and in the vast majority of circumstances, his athleticism and instinct were more than enough. This time was no exception, as in moments Sideswipe was mounted on the one called Ramjet pounding on his face, while the one called Thrust was laying several yards away, nursing a heavily dented nose and crawling away from the fight terrified.

"Enough!" Sunstreaker grinned, mission accomplished. Everyone turned toward where the yell had rung out from, at the mid-sized but bulky tan and purple robot approaching the brawlers. The sea of spectators parted to make way for him as he headed straight for the brothers, who had come to stand next to one another. "Well boys, looks like this is what you wanted. I wonder if anyone ever warned you of the dangers of getting what you wanted."

"We never were ones to pay warnings much heed." Sideswipe smirked as he stood up, stepping on Ramjet as he did so. "And it wasn't what I wanted; I just wanted a couple drinks. It's my brother that's into stealing femmes and picking fights."

"Enough of the bullshit." The tan and purple robot snapped. "I know you boys know who I am, and I know an audition when I see one. Congratulations, you've impressed me. But the audition's over, time to start acting like professionals and take the next step, or you can keep playing dumb and I'll let you, leaving you to this crowd who would love to see you dead for what you've done to their friends and their bar. You see, they don't like outsiders, and they'd like nothing more than to make the two of you disappear. But if you're with me, well, they'll leave you be." The robot smiled. "So tell me boys, are you with me?"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked at one another and displayed their well rehearsed looks of anxiousness. "Yeah…sure, sure we're with you." Sideswipe stammered.

"Then come with me boys." The robot turned and marched toward the back of the bar, the twins following him.

"Later ladies." Sunstreaker quietly taunted the beaten patrons.

Moments later they were entering a stock room with a table and four chairs around it, the remains of an abandoned game of Sheol's Bounty, a very little known but ancient card game of off-world origin using tablets adorned with alien symbols. "Have a seat, boys." The blocky robot waved his hand over the two closest chairs to the door as he rounded the table and plopped himself down on the far end. "Do you know Governor Riker?"

Sideswipe shrugged and replied sarcastically as his brother simply remained stone-faced. "Yeah, sure, he was the Emir of Luna 1."

The other robot ignored the ridiculous reply and continued. "Riker said, 'I'm a servant of the people. You give me a slagging bullhorn and I'll get something the people want out of it.'"

"Well I tell you, Swindle, these people," Sunstreaker leaned forward and flicked his thumb between Sideswipe and himself, "would love to pull some slagging credits out of that bullhorn of his."

Swindle groaned. "A couple of smart asses, that's unfortunate. But indulge me if you will. The point I'm trying to make with Governor Riker is, an individual could look at anything and make something of it. So I look at you two boys, and wonder what I could use you for."

"I think we've demonstrated what you could use us for." Sideswipe replied, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Oh, and what's that?" Swindle replied, his optics rolling across the far wall of the room.

"What the slag are we talking about here?" Sunstreaker growled. "I distinctly heard 'enough of the bullshit' coming out of your mouth."

Swindle returned his gaze to the brothers, locking onto one pair of optics before moving to the next pair. "I'm curious as to what two boys from Iacon are doing in this neighborhood. At the risk of slandering my own environment, it almost saddens me to see two young Cybertronians with a fair bit of potential slumming around the seediest part of Petrex looking to earn a few credits taking beatings. Yeah, I know you lads are in with that anti-nobility group, but there's a sense if idealism with that, all you punks really do is victimless graffiti. That's a minor slip; this, this is a full fledge descent that ends up with snuffed sparks." Swindle stood up and nodded toward the door, prompting the brothers to turn and witness four hulking goons entering. "And if that's truly what we have here, then Primus bless, I will do what I can to help you boys down your chosen path. Buuuttt," the large robots set upon Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, pinning them in their chairs, "I can't help but wonder if that prick Prowl finally grew the bearings to offer you punks a deal to pull off something like this."

"Are you out of your slagging mind?" Sideswipe growled.

"I'm gonna pull your innards out and feed them to a cyberfox!" Sunstreaker roared.

"We slagging hate that Honorum attack dog!" Sideswipe snapped.

"Yeah, it certainly seems that way, but one can't be too careful." Swindle stood up and studied the brothers closely before looking up at his goons. "The pretty one." He noted a couple looks of confusion. "Yellow!"

With that they pulled Sunstreaker's left arm out away from his body. "Stop!" Sideswipe yelled impotently. Sunstreaker struggled, but the two massive robots were able to hold him prone despite his formidable combat skills. Swindle walked over and pried out one of his fingers and pulled out a hand-held cutting tool from a compartment in his side. "Stop, we're not slaggin' snitches!"

"We'll know one way or another in a few moments." Swindle replied before using the tool to clamp down on Sunstreaker's left ring finger and slice it off. Sunstreaker muffled a cry of pain and glared hatefully up at his torturer. "Ahh, a hard ass, huh?" With that he repeated the series of motions and snipped off the yellow robot's pinky, earning him more silence from Sunstreaker.

"What the slag?" Sideswipe roared. "What do you want? We're not slagging cops!" With that Sideswipe got his left leg free enough to kick over the table, sending the discarded alien cards and drinks into the air and the table toppling, providing just enough chaos for he and his brother to capitalize on the distraction of their captors. Acting in unison, the brothers struggled and twisted in a series of organized movements to free themselves from the mooks pinning them down and managed to put a few feet between themselves and Swindles crew.

"Whoah, not bad boys." Swindle grumbled as he and his four henchmen stared angrily at the pair. "But you really haven't improved your situations any. You see, for me to consider this a successful interrogation, I need to get you to the point of hopelessness. Only then can I consider what you have to say to be on the slaggin' level. If you're hopeful of getting out of this on your own steam, then you're still willing to hold out on me, and I just can't slagging have that. You two boys are bright enough to understand, aren't you?" Swindle shrugged and smiled. "Now get the slag back in the chairs."

"Naw, no more chairs." Sideswipe replied.

"It'll be tough to sit on them after we've broken them up into five equal piles and shoved the pieces up your exhaust ports!" Sunstreaker added angrily as he glared at his mutilated hand. "Now form a line and bend over!"

Swindle started chuckling lightly. "Do you assholes really think your situation has improved any?" He looked up at the closest henchman and shook his head in feigned frustration. "You're still in a building surrounded by dozens of angry lowlifes looking to kill you. The only difference between your situation now and five minutes ago is that five minutes ago you had twenty fingers between the two of you." The blocky robot displayed a broad grin at the brothers. "But hey, maybe eighteen is your lucky number."

"Here's how we see our situation." Sideswipe snapped back. "We sit back in those chairs where either you'll kill us, or you'll cut us down to the point where we'll be useless in the pits. So the prospect of going down while fighting our way out really isn't the lesser of two evils here."

"What, no faith in the Ankmor medical community?" Swindle smirked. "If you convince me you're on the level, I'll make sure that both of you are pasted back together just like you are now. Heck, if you're my fighters, I'll spring to get you some battle grade bio-armor grafted to you."

"Max density, min mass, nervous-integratable bio-composite?" Sunstreaker asked, suddenly excited, turning slightly toward Sideswipe and continuing in a whisper. "That shit is thin and can be grafted on in place of our outer cyber-dermis. Makes us nearly impervious to most low-grade energy or projectile weapons, and weighs damn near nothing."

Sideswipe gave him a look of incredulity. "Fine, sit the slag down and continue getting chopped up."

Sunstreaker gave a mild shrug. "What's the problem, you're the one who claims to have the insane pain threshold."

Sideswipe stared at his brother for a moment before turning back to Swindle. "OK Boss, fine, chop us up. We're not slaggin' snitches."

Swindle stared at them for several moments. "You know, I may just be willing to give you lads the benefit of the doubt…for now." He returned the finger-chopping device to the compartment on his side. "But you screw me over, and I'll spend a vorn chopping pieces off of you."

The two Iaconians nodded, and Sunstreaker sheepishly grinned. "So about these enhancements..."

Nightbeat

"Enter." The voice came through both the speaker as well as through the door, and the yellow and blue robot with a broad red visor over his nose stepped forward to the now opening door. He entered the room to see the majestic form of Sentinel Honorum, who according to all reports and rumors would soon be their new Prime. The yellow and red robot smiled at the smaller visitor. "Thank you for coming Nightbeat, Prowl says you're the perfect individual for the job."

"I'm honored by his confidence and by your consideration, my lord." Nightbeat replied respectfully as he walked into the room. "Unfortunately Prowl neglected to inform me of what this job is."

Sentinel chuckled. "It's merely taking a hobby and making it your full time function."

"My lord?"

The large, hulking royal with armored enhancements adorning his already massively powerful physique smiled. "Prowl has informed me that in your down time you enjoy taking a look at cold cases, but the one that you spend perhaps the most time on is trying to figure out what happened to the Manifest."

"Yes my lord." Nightbeat replied. "I hope that isn't a problem. I know that Guardian Prime was of your house, and a very early mentor to you. I hope my prying isn't an offense."

"Very early is right." Sentinel muttered as he walked over to a table, offering a chair to Nightbeat before sitting in another one. "I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times we spoke. But yes, at seeing my post-protoformal physical and mental test scores he took a tremendous interest in me, telling me that in time I'd likely be in his inner circle. He even mentioned in confidence that I'd probably replace Galvatron as his second." Sentinel noted the stunned look on Nightbeat's face and chuckled. "Yes, scandalous, and were history to have gone that way the pillars that ended the Second War of Southern Aggression and created the peace we currently enjoy would have been shaken. Gallus was the Prime, but in the view of the southern emirates, Galvatron shared power with him equally. Gallus shitcanning him so that I could serve as his second would likely have reignited hostilities." The noble shrugged. "But history didn't go that way. I was only few months old when the Manifest disappeared."

"I…I don't know how to feel about that, my lord." Nightbeat replied. "Obviously the loss of Guardian Prime is perhaps the greatest tragedy to befall our world, but the prospect of a reignited war is terrifying."

"Terrifying, yes." Sentinel answered with a smile. "But the peace we currently live in is flawed. Gallus inherited a losing battle and a war-torn world with very little in the way of resources, especially here in the north. When an option for a noble peace was offered, he took it, but Polyhex and the emirates that united with it have never been punished for their audacity and aggression. House Macht, House Onyx, House Modus and the others retained their monarchies; the only conditions they had to abide by was the acceptance of a senate they had equal voice in, adherence to planetary laws they had a hand in creating, and an obedience to the Prime that in practice was little more than lip service."

"Forgive me, my lord, but I was led to believe that Guardian Prime and Galvatron became inseparable friends after the peace was made." The detective commented.

"They were the closest of friends." Sentinel replied. "But that doesn't change what Galvatron and those that followed him did. And frankly, when it comes to any job, much less ruling a planet, merit should outweigh friendship. Gallus apparently saw early on that I had the potential to be a greater second and Warden of the Southern Hemisphere than Galvatron. And should the south balk at that, they'd realize that the disadvantage that Gallus and our forces had found ourselves in when he first claimed the Matrix had long since vanished. But again, a moot point."

"I see, my lord." Nightbeat replied uneasily.

"It's because of this faith in me, at least in part, that I feel that finding the Manifest and bringing Gallus and his crew home for a proper interment should be made a priority." Sentinel explained. "Zeta was a friend, but this is one thing we always disagreed on. He felt it to be a lost cause and a waste of resources. But he never truly looked into the matter; nobody has. Except you." Sentinel leveled his gaze at the commoner. "So being the closest thing to an expert on the fate of the Manifest that we have, do you feel this to be a lost cause?"

Nightbeat, no less nervous, paused for several moments. "My lord…"

"Please, I need for you to relax, and for you to be absolutely frank and honest with me." Sentinel attempted to reassure his guest. "Nothing you say, no opinion or finding you have, will ever be held against you provided you keep it and any other aspect of this investigation confidential. I give you my word as a Honorum."

Overcoming his persisting nervousness, Nightbeat replied. "Alright my lord, I do not feel it to be a lost cause. Granted, with the very limited resources I've had available to me, I would not consider myself to be any sort of expert on this matter, but from what I've put together from the data that's been available to me, I believe that the Manifest can be found. There's…" Nightbeat paused, extremely hesitant.

"Please, continue." Sentinel prodded.

"Well sir, some of the evidence has led me to believe that the Manifest may have been the victim of sabotage." Nightbeat suggested.

Sentinel Honorum leaned forward, his intensity raised. "I have long suspected as much." Sentinel leaned back, silent anger coming over his face. "That would demand a criminal investigation, but wouldn't that increase the odds that the ship was obliterated with little for us to find?"

"Maybe, I don't know, my lord." Nightbeat replied. "The odds that the planet's most advanced ship would disappear without a trace so soon after launch is really what I'm basing this on. With wormhole generation flight there are countless things that could go wrong, but we'd had tens of thousands of wormhole creations in the eons prior to the Manifest without any issues. The process had become as perfected as a process that complicated can become, and yet the most advanced ship failed at something that private cargo freighters had done flawlessly for eons."

"You hardly need to be Iacon's greatest detective to notice that." Sentinel commented.

"I have other clues, ones very subtle, my lord." Nightbeat replied. "If someone did this, then whoever they are or were was very intelligent and very careful. I have my reasoning laid out in my quarters."

"I believe you." Sentinel considered. "Which makes it all the more imperative that you find whatever is out there so that we could piece together any evidence that could let us know who did this."

"It's been over a million years, my lord, I'm sure much of the evidence that may have existed has long since degraded." Nightbeat replied.

"True, but there may be something." Sentinel replied before staring directly at the detective. "I can't help but notice that you seem to be trying to discourage me from this course of action."

"It's just…" Nightbeat stared with absolute earnestness into Sentinel Honorum's optics, "frank and honest?"

"Yes, I insist." Sentinel assured him.

"There's a possibility, however slim, that one or more of the crew may still be alive." Nightbeat replied, studying the royal intently for his reaction. A stunned look and a mild hint of worry were what Nightbeat both expected and received from Sentinel Honorum.

"That's impossible." The shocked Sentinel sputtered.

"There's no evidence of destruction, and while there was no evidence that they arrived where they were scheduled to arrive, there was no discernible evidence of wormhole generator malfunction." Nightbeat explained. "Admittedly, even if they came out of the wormhole safely, after this much time they'd likely have starved, even if initiating stasis lock, but there are ways to create energon."

Sentinel stared at him incredulously. "I…why hadn't you presented this possibility before?"

"I did to Zeta Prime, my lord." Nightbeat replied. "He felt that given the amount of time that had elapsed that the odds of survivors, even if they had survived the wormhole jump, were virtually nil."

Sentinel considered that for a few moments. "He's likely right." He then peered heatedly at Nightbeat. "Why didn't you come to me with it? Barring a miracle, I'll be named Prime at the next session of the Senate."

"That's why I didn't come to you, and why I seemed to be less than encouraging with the idea of what you're proposing, my lord." Nightbeat explained, anxiety building in him. "I observe everything and everyone I see, you included. Based on what I've seen you do and say, I'm inclined to believe that you would prefer being Prime than having Guardian Prime return."

"What?" Sentinel Prime asked, anger rising within him. "How dare you?"

Nightbeat paused before clarifying. "I admit that I may be wrong, my lord, but I do have my reasons for considering this possibility. I can go over every one if you would like, but our current conversation has only reinforced this possibility for me."

"What?" Sentinel snapped. "How?"

Nightbeat nodded. "In this conversation you've mentioned Gallus six times, my lord. You have yet to say the name Guardian or Guardian Prime."

Sentinel stared angrily at the detective for over a minute of silence before finally speaking. "I appreciate your honesty, but I assure you that your assumption is false."

"I am pleased to hear that, my lord." Nightbeat replied, unconvinced. "Shall I proceed with the investigation?"

Sentinel considered that for several moments before nodding. "Yes, but the investigation is to remain secret. You will make no mention of this assignment to anyone and report only to me. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, my lord."

A-Three

The walk down the hallway housing the servants' quarters was a long one. Keeping Tyger Pax clean and functioning perfectly required hundreds of employees. A-Three had insisted on taking one of these dormitories when he had first arrived, but Arlon Pax had forbidden it. Arlon, more so than any other royal in history, was keen to blur the lines between noble and commoner, but the idea that a friend and mentor like A-Three would occupy a tiny room with nothing but a slab and a footlocker was beyond unacceptable to him. The lord of Tyger Pax had no problem, however, placing Torenia's new foundling in one of them.

A-Three placed his hand on the shoulder of the robot with him, a slightly shorter than average dark blue robot with a robust build, prompting the smaller robot to stop and allow the older robot to go on to the room alone. A-Three approached the room silently; though he would never admit it, not even to himself, he wished to spy on Tyger Pax's newest occupant. He saw the youngster peering out the window, taking in the white vision of snow over the ground outside. A common sight in the polar emirate of The Torus Heights, though for one as young as Orion, nothing was a common sight yet. According to Torenia, he had only downloaded their verbal language, all other knowledge he had acquired had been from the observations he'd made firsthand over the handful of days he'd been alive.

The slight shift in the youth's head let A-Three know that despite his best effort, this Orion had detected his presence. The red, blue and silver robot turned, his movements unbelievably natural and graceful, belying his youth. Orion's brightly glowing azure optics met A-Three's, the much, much older robot studying them deeply, enough to note the viridescent core deep below the blue, an astoundingly unexpected trait that could explain several of the unusual things that had been observed about the youth, though not all of them. A-Three turned back to the robot he had left behind and nodded at the youngster to approach before turning back to the occupant of the room. "Greetings Orion, I trust the room is to your liking."

"Yes, sir, my lord…" The youth stammered out the reply, unsure of how to address the visitor. The red and blue robot was physically magnificent; tall, extremely broad shoulders paired with a waist that seemed almost absurdly narrow in comparison to his upper body. His thick arms waved toward the slab, offering his visitor a seat, and at seeing the smaller robot saunter up next to A-Three, extended the offer to him as well.

"That's your bed." A-Three replied with a gentle shake of his head. "We'll need to get you chairs," the much older robot scanned the small room, "though where we'll put them, I have no idea."

Orion smiled as well and even let out a soft chuckle. "I guess I shouldn't plan on hosting too many get-togethers."

A-Three peered curiously. "Sarcasm?"

A look of nervousness came over Orion. "I apologize, my lord, I don't mean to offend. I've noticed it exchanged between others, Torenia explained what it was, and I thought I was doing it right."

"You were." A-Three replied calmly, trying to put the young robot at ease. "There are those that don't appreciate the use of sarcasm. You'll likely be given a lot of leeway, being Torenia's pet and all, but you'd be well served to know who you're speaking to and whether they're comfortable with it before doing so."

"I will remember that, thank you for the lesson, sir." Orion smiled.

A-Three nodded. "You're welcome. Orion, this is Roller Pax, he was born at the same time as you and I would like to educate the two of you together. Now, it is policy for all newborns to undergo a barrage of mental and physical testing along with the selection and implementation of an alternate form to mold and build your shell into. I have you scheduled to take your tests later today, your alt form creation will likely be tomorrow; Roller has already completed both of these things. But for now I'd like to just discuss what you both know and provide you a brief overview of the history of our planet, and of the Emirate of The Torus Heights." The older robot peered over the tiny room one more time. "Let's take this outside." Orion nodded and followed A-Three and Roller out of the room and through the hallway, passing servants and other robots living in the crowded section of Tyger Pax's commoner wing.

"Do you live in this section of the castl…city…Tyger Pax?" Orion asked.

"No, as chief physician, lawyer and historian of Tyger Pax, I'm housed near the Pax's, three suites down from Roller as it happens." A-Three replied as they reached a door to the outside and exited the building, walking past rows of snow covered trees and into a vast quad, dozens of other robots outside enjoying the sunny but cold day.

"Interesting." Orion replied. "Roller, I hope that my tagging along with your education is amenable with you. I've heard that to be tutored by A-Three is a tremendous gift; I truly appreciate you sharing this with me."

"No problem Orion." Roller replied with a smile. "Frankly, I'm just happy to be able to hang out with someone my own age. Five days with almost no one but Arlon and A-Three gets a bit overwhelming."

"You are of House Pax, you have a tremendous responsibility." A-Three replied as he led the two young robots toward a forest. "And while common born, I have great expectations for Orion as well."

"I hope I prove worthy of those expectations." Orion replied.

"Oh no you don't, A-Three." Roller snapped with more than a little humor in his voice. "I'm not going to let you turn this guy into one of you. We'll nail your lessons, but no taking the fun out of this guy." The smaller robot peered intently at Orion. "There is fun in you, right?"

Orion smiled as they entered the forest. "Not that I've come across, but I'm young yet."

"What do the two of you know of your world?" A-Three asked, ignoring the bantering. "Roller seems confident that he either knows what he needs to know already or that what little he doesn't know he'll be able to pick up with minimal effort. I hope you're not so arrogant, Orion."

"I know very little of the world sir, I wish to change that, and will do whatever you expect of me to help with that process." Orion replied humbly, eliciting a light scoff from Roller.

"Kiss ass." Roller chuckled.

"I have been tasked with providing each member of House Pax with a thorough education." A-Three angrily snapped as they progressed deeper into the forest. "That includes humility, Roller, a lesson you are in desperate need of learning."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful sir," Roller replied, embarrassment clearly etched into his voice, "I'm just trying to add some levity for Orion's sake. My tutoring thus far has been daunting to say the least, I want Orion not to be overwhelmed. I really want him to stick with it."

A-Three stopped in the center of a ring of trees with several boulders near them and sat on one of the boulders, waving for his students to follow his lead. He peered at Roller and once all were seated, he addressed the youth. "I recognize that you have been overloaded early into your life with a tremendous amount to learn, but you must realize that this is for your benefit. But you are correct, it can be overwhelming, which is why I've decided it will also benefit you to learn alongside Orion. The two of you can assist one another, offer support and encouragement to one another, and perhaps even become friends in the process. Know that I can empathize with what you go through, and know that what I do here is not me attempting to torture or overwhelm you, all I do is for your benefit, the benefit of House Pax, and the benefit of Cybertron. And also know that any disrespect you show going forward will be severely punished."

Roller nodded. "Yes sir."

"Alright." A-Three looked up and took in the countless falling flakes descending upon them. "Despite its name, Cybertron is not a fully cybernetic planet. But unlike the vast majority of life-bearing planets in the universe, it is not fully organic either. As far as I know, it is the only planet that is a naturally occurring hybrid of both; a planet that has given rise to vast organic species, each producing individuals given life through an intangible and temporary, but nearly infinitely reproducible life-force, as well as producing far less numerous quasi-mechanical species with tangible and far more enduring sparks, including our own theoretically immortal species."

"Theoretically immortal?" Orion asked.

"Yes, to the best of our knowledge and theories, with adequate sustenance and maintenance to the host body, our sparks can remain viable perpetually." A-Three replied. "Though we always seem to find a way to end our lives eventually. Either through violence, accident, or physical neglect, there are few of us that survive more than a few million years at best."

"Come on, I'm sure there are careful Transformers out there that have managed not to get killed." Roller replied as Orion listened intently.

A-Three looked down at the ground, deep in thought for several moments before looking back up and replying. "Our species has existed for at least twenty million years. Even the unverified rumors regarding ancients among us only put these ancients at thirteen million years of age."

"Who are these ancients that may or may not be among us?" Orion questioned.

"I've been tasked with teaching you facts and respected theories, not with perpetuating myths." A-Three replied.

Roller grew agitated at the statement. "So no leviathans, no sparkeaters, no sirens, no minotorons, no Knights…"

"There are sparkeaters, that's why they built and man the Tartarun Gates." Orion interrupted.

"Enough! I will not be discussing any of those anytime soon, though I will go into some theories that are not accepted by the mainstream, but that I feel to be worth educating you on. For instance, that there is…" the older robot paused, once again thinking deeply, "evidence that the temporary nature of the organic life originating on this planet can be extended through scientific means, perhaps indefinitely as with our own sparks."

Both of the students peered at one another before looking back at A-Three. "What, immortal garlonics and dracosaurs?" Roller asked.

"No." A-Three studied the youths for a few moments before continuing. "Ours is not the only intelligent species to be spawned by this planet. In all likelihood, ours isn't the most intelligent species to be spawned by this planet." A-Three noted the looks of amazement and wonder. "But that, and other myths are not part of today's curriculum."

"But you stated that there was evidence." Orion countered. "Depending on the evidence, that may elevate it beyond the status of myth."

"Perhaps, young one, but even if that's the case, it is not a lesson for you to learn of today." A-Three grinned, dashing the hopes of his two students. "Instead you are going to learn of the thirteen Emirates of Cybertron, their ruling Houses, their local laws and customs as well as the planetary laws and constitution that they have all agreed to abide by as administered by the Senate."

"Ughn." Roller grumbled.

Megatron

"Any apprehensions?" Militus asked as they marched down the corridor toward the medical wing of House Macht.

Megatron smiled as he strode confidently next to the overlord of Polyhex. "None, Lord Macht. I am eager for this to happen."

"As am I." Militus replied. "For far too long that sub-humanoid Ogrus Onyx has been bragging of his invincible vassal Grimlock. Once upgraded with the latest armor and press enhancements, you will be able to bring that dragon's reign to an end. I just hope you survive the process."

Megatron chuckled as the two of them pushed through the doors and entered the small hospital. "I'm not concerned."

Militus took the lead and led the younger robot down a hallway toward a fortified laboratory. "I am. The resources I'm devoting to you are not easy to come by, and certainly not inexpensive. You've shown exceptional potential in the training, but you've had no actual combat experience."

"I've seen my share of combat, Lord Macht." Megatron replied dryly.

"Thugs, you've beaten thugs." Militus snapped back. "In the pits you will face honed athletes for whom fighting is their function, their reason for existence. Beating up several belligerent laborers doesn't make you ready for the gladiatorial pits. And even if your skills and combat savvy were to continue progressing as they've been progressing, that doesn't mean you're capable of surviving the completion of this procedure. Only a handful of warriors have been able to endure this in its entirety, and more than that number have died in the process." A slender robot approached them, and Militus turned toward him. "Greetings Doctor Rossum."

"Greetings my lord." Rossum replied as he looked Megatron over intently. "You were right, he is one sturdy looking candidate. And large, though not as large as Ogrus's juggernaut."

"So that's good, right?" Militus asked. "I mean, as far as the chances of the procedure's success, right?"

"Large size is a good sign, especially if he moves well." Rossum explained still examining Megatron. The young patient was used to being looked upon as a resource by the powers that be, but it annoyed him no less.

"If you mean speed and agility, then yes, he moves like a bot a third his size." Militus replied.

"Good. People frequently assume it takes a powerful spark to pull together and control a large frame, but often times it's just a mediocre or even weak spark that happened to bubble up in an area with abundant sentio metallico." Rossum continued as he prepared the equipment. "That frequently leads to clumsy bots unable to manipulate their frames worth a damn. Then there are cases where a powerful spark will create a smaller body, whether due to a shortage of available material or for some other unexplainable reason. But in general, a large frame is not a bad sign." The doctor waved to an open chamber. "Megatron is it? Please enter so that we can get started." Without hesitation Megatron marched across the room and entered the chamber, leaning back to allow himself to get strapped in. "Well, we do have an eager one, don't we?" Rossum chuckled to Militus before turning to Megatron. "In a big hurry to get some more argonized steel and polymer sinew, are we?"

Megatron merely smiled and looked forward. "Yes."

Militus walked toward them and stood before Megatron, peering deeply into his optics. "For this to be even the slightest bit profitable for me, you need to be able to endure at least a third of the planned bonding and half of the interior press enhancements. If you're unable to do that, you'll have wasted a fair chunk of my money, and proven to lack the mettle to be of any use to me in the pits. And you know what happens to those that cost me money and have no way of repaying their losses, right?"

Megatron smiled broadly, tempted to tell the Emir of Polyhex exactly the esteem with which he held his threats, but decided to keep that to himself for the moment. "My frame will accept every alteration Rossum has in store for me, and when he's finished I'll ask for more."

Militus continued staring at Megatron for a few more moments before turning to Rossum. "Do it."

Rossum smiled and walked over to a control panel to begin the procedure. "Here we go." With the flick of a few switches Megatron was pulled tight into the chamber and various cutting, melting, boring and welding tools all around the chamber sprung to life. Rossum began smiling as only grunts came when normally there would be screams of agony. Even several minutes later, as the most invasive aspects of the surgery were underway, the only signs of discomfort elicited from the miner-turned-gladiator were grunts of discomfort. "His pain threshold certainly won't be an issue in the pits." Rossum chuckled.

"How is his frame reacting to the additions to it?" Militus asked as he walked over to Rossum to peer at the array of screens in front of him.

Rossum studied the data being scrawled across as well. "Quite well, quite well." The doctor leaned closer to the screen to study it more intently. "In fact, the acceptance rates are superior to any enhancement procedure I've ever come across; likely better than anyone's ever come across, at least in recent times."

"Meaning what?" Militus asked, his interest possessing a hint of nervousness.

Rossum quickly typed some commands into the computer, turned away and marched rapidly toward the patient, looking into the chamber as the automated arms of the medical contrivance began cutting and peeling away at Megatron's inner chest structures. Megatron's discomfort increased significantly, causing him to growl and snap at the doctor in front of him. "I do not believe this is part of the procedure, Rossum!" The young robot felt panic welling up in him; he was trapped, completely at the mercy of these two, and he had sensed early on that Militus had always regarded him as a threat. He had considered his position with the Emir to be safe, at least for the time being, but it now appeared he was wrong. If they were betraying him, there would be nothing he could do to stop them.

"No, it is not." Rossum replied, staring with extreme interest into his patient's chest. "Do not fear, I assure you that any harm that is done with be repaired immediately. But I must know."

"Must know wha…aaaahhhhhhh!?" Megatron roared as his spark chamber was cut open.

"My sweet maker…" Rossum muttered through his grinning mouth as green light poured out from his patient, "I've never seen one in person."

"Seen what?" Militus asked as he made his way over, but gasped as he saw the green energy emanating out of Megatron's chest. "Impossible." He stared fearfully at Megatron's face. "I didn't believe point one percenters existed."

"Oh, they exist, but the designation is grossly inaccurate." Rossum replied as he walked back over to the control panel and plugged in new instructions, ones that instantly caused the mechanisms to repair the damage done and continue on with the enhancements. "From the little I've been able to study on the subject, point zero zero zero zero two percenter would be more apt."

"One in fifty thousand?" Militus asked, still staring at Megatron's chest as the green light was sealed off by the repairing of the spark chamber.

"That's my guess." Rossum replied. "There are others. Based on what I've discussed with colleagues serving House Onyx, I'm all but certain that Ogrus's champion possesses one, though that too is just a guess. Apparently Grimlock isn't fond of being scanned and is less fond of being cut open."

"Then he's going to be truly upset when I cut him open from crotch to throat and toss his spark, whatever color it is, into the crowd." Megatron snarled from within the chamber.

Rossum chuckled and turned to Militus. "Based on this, I'm confident that his frame can accept some theoretical enhancements that I've come up with; that is, if you're willing to finance it."

"Negative." Militus replied quietly, seemingly to try and be too quiet for Megatron to hear, but failing as the patient was barely able to make out the following. "The standard alpha gladiator upgrade is sufficient. I don't need the histories remembering me as the Emir that unleashed a second Galvatron on the planet."

Arlon Pax

The six-wheeled gray and blue cruiser cut through the snow on the roadway as it continued to speed into the polar mountain range, at least while there was roadway to drive over. When the snow-covered road came to an end, the vehicle transformed into its bestial form and Arlon Pax, Emir of The Torus Heights, made his way over the treacherous terrain into the mountains. He traveled quickly up the mountains, through ravines, and through passes few if any others could get through. His frame seemed perfectly adapted to this environment, and his knowledge of the area was unequalled. After a few hours of travelling by foot he finally arrived at the mouth of a gigantic cavern, a mouth closed off by an enormous metal wall. He approached it, his proximity causing defensive cannons to spring forth from their housings within rocks and the ground and target him.

"Halt!" A booming voice echoed through hidden speakers. "Identify yourself!"

"I am Lord Arlon Pax, Emir of The Torus Heights, here for my quarterly examination of the Tartarun Gates." The beast called back at the faceless voice. "Open the gate Kup, my servos are starting to freeze."

With that a large door within the metal wall slowly slid open and a light blue robot walked out. "Sorry Lord Pax, but there are procedures even you and I need to adhere to."

"No worries, Lord Commander." Arlon replied with a grin. "You're looking well."

"As are you, Arlon." Kup replied as he caught Arlon's raised front paw in his hand and shook it. "Let's take this inside and let your poor servos warm up."

"Of course old friend." Arlon said as he walked through the doorway and into the cavern, followed by Kup.

"So I felt a few tremors a few days back." Kup commented as they made their way through the moderately lit cavern, passing well-armed soldiers of various designs, ages and body types. "Was House Pax blessed with any new lords or ladies?

"Aye, Roller." Arlon replied. "Seems like a good lad, not the largest of bots but a stout, strong frame and very inquisitive with what appears to be the intellect to match his curiosity."

"Oh, he sounds like a fine addition to your House." Kup replied. "So just the one?"

Arlon casually glanced over at a squad of soldiers training in hand-to-hand combat. "Born of our hotspot, yes, though Torenia returned from her trip to Cybertropolis with a commoner protoform she wishes to raise at Tyger Pax."

"Is that legal?" Kup asked. "Wouldn't that protoform be a vassal of House Honorum or a lesser House of Nova Cronum? At least until it reached the age of self-determination."

"No, she found him on her way back from the trip, just inside the Torus Heights border." Arlon explained. "North of Burthov I believe."

"Burthov?" Kup was startled. "There's no sentio metallico in or around Burthov, at least that I'm aware of."

"That's what she told me." Arlon replied.

"Well, I suppose even the wells of the thirteen great houses were once barren." Kup explained as they continued deeper into the vast cavern, passing barracks and the large mess hall built into a side cavern. "Does this commoner seem to be a good lad too?"

"Aye, he does." Arlon answered, taking in and evaluating every detail of the cavern, though knowing that under Kup's command that all aspects of the Gates and the Wardens assigned to guard them would be more than adequate. "Polite, good natured, and by all indications appears to be exceptionally intelligent. And he's perhaps the finest physical specimen I've ever come across."

"Hmm, perhaps when he comes of age this specimen can be persuaded to join the Wardens of the Gates for a ten vorn stint." Kup suggested mirthfully.

"I'm not an Honorum, Maximus or Decimus, I don't strong arm my vassals into joining the Wardens for the honor of my House." Arlon replied. "But I will make Orion aware of the opportunity, and the honor it holds to serve."

"Our values mirror those of House Pax, my lord." Kup replied. "The strong sense of civic duty instilled in all natives of The Torus Heights has sent many of your vassals to the Gates of their own free will. I merely ask that you treat this Orion as you would any that have the honor of serving you."

Arlon shook his head sadly. "No Kup, it is I that has the honor of serving them. If only the other Emirs and nobles possessed this perspective then perhaps the Golden Age could be reclaimed."

"You forget that I'm much older than you are Arlon." Kup replied. "The Golden Age was called that due to contentment and plenty, not because it possessed your ideal of equality amongst all Cybertronians. Guardian Prime was a great many wonderful things, but eliminating the distinction between noble and commoner was never a priority for him."

"Well it is for me." Arlon replied. "Which reminds me, how is Perceptor doing as a teacher?"

Kup laughed out loud. "Oh, he's not happy with you for talking him into taking on the role of physician and educator here."

"I know." Arlon smiled, his bestial mouth making for a fearsome sight. "But it's a task I feel he and few others can achieve."

"What, educate this rabble so that at the end of their watch they go back and educate other commoners in their emirates or demand that those emirates follow the lead of Torus Heights and provide education to them?" Kup asked chuckling. "Your motives aren't that hard to figure out." Kup stopped laughing but maintained his mirth. "I hear you have an educator at Tyger Pax that can probably do the job. Any chance you'd be willing to talk him into serving as a Warden for a few vorns?"

Arlon grew slightly uneasy. "I fear A-Three has no interest in leaving Tyger Pax."

"Oh right, he's calling himself A-Three these days." Kup noted Arlon's agitated glare. "I saw him while I was at Tyger Pax eight vorns back. You forget, I'm much older than you are, and a change in facial shapes only goes so far."

"We will speak no more on this subject." Arlon stated in a tone so that there would be no room to argue.

"As you wish, my lord." Kup replied as they reached a second large metal wall. "So, is this to be another routine inspection?"

"Not so routine." Arlon replied. "I wish to speak with him."

"Ah, so you're planning on walking all the way down, huh?" Kup replied, a bit of surprise in his voice. "Any particular reason you wish to meet with him?"

Both robots stopped and peered at the door at the base of the metal wall. "The murder of Zeta Prime has me…concerned, as well as intrigued about the prospect of selecting another Prime in the absence of the Matrix, how Cybertron was prior to the Matrix selecting the first Prime…" Arlon paused, "I just feel uneasy and I wish to use someone far older than you or I as a sounding board." He looked over and smiled weakly at Kup. "And I fear A-Three is unwilling to discuss such things with anyone anymore."

"Got it." Kup replied, looking up at a drone hidden in the wall. "Lord Commander Kup authorizing admittance to the lower levels to Arlon Pax." With that the door to the lower levels slid open and Arlon passed through.

Arlon Pax continued down into the depths, advancing through progressively darker sections of the cavern with the grade dropping lower and lower to the point where a biped would have had difficulty remaining upright. Every half mile there would be plaques mounted on the walls detailing events of a war waged fifteen million years before, all heavily worn even with constant maintenance and upkeep. After several miles Arlon came upon one more enormous metal wall, but the door opened for him as he got there and he passed on through. By this point his surroundings were significantly warmer, and he looked straight ahead to see another metal wall in the distance. But instead of continuing toward it, he stopped. He had reached his destination. He peered up and to the side to see two green orbs shining through layers of dust. "Hello old friend."

A giant stepped forward, hundreds of pounds of dust falling away from his moving body. "Greetings Arlon Pax. It is good to see you again. What brings you to these depths?"

"Greetings Omega Supreme, I have come to tell you that Zeta Prime has been murdered." Arlon said. "Sentinel Honorum will be selected by the Senate to be the next Prime, and I fear that in time our planet will devolve into the chaos of a pre-Matrix Cybertron."

"And what do you wish from me?" Omega Supreme asked.

Arlon nodded his animalistic head and paused before continuing. "I know Sentinel Honorum fairly well, I respect him, he was a good lad, has become an excellent leader in most regards…but I do not know whether he's worthy of being a Prime."

"When they come to meet me, they have already been selected to be Prime." Omega Supreme replied. "Even if the Senate does place any weight on my opinion, by the time I'm in a position to formulate one, the decision has been made. I do not see what you expect me to do."

"There remains one that the Matrix once deemed worthy to bear it." Arlon replied. "I come to you to aid me in making him return to public eye and reclaim the mantel of Prime. He may not possess the Matrix, but Primon was chosen by it."

"He is called Primon the Abdicator for a reason." The giant replied. "On one occasion he relinquished both the title and the Matrix to one he felt to be more worthy, and on two other occasions he held back in his claim because he found others he felt to be more worthy."

"And on all occasions the Matrix selected those he had chosen." Arlon responded. "His judgment was sound, his choices correct."

"And yet you now choose to question his judgment and not accept his choice to remain anonymous?" The Guardian replied.

"He has withdrawn." Arlon answered. "It is this that I cannot accept. Had Justicia Ambus not existed to become Prima, or Nova Onyx to become Nova Prime, or Gallus Honorum to become Guardian Prime, he'd have stepped in and served."

"No, your historical accounts are incorrect in regard to Nova Prime." Omega Supreme countered. "Primon nearly died defeating Deathsaurus, and allowed the world to think he had. Nova Onyx's ascension to Prime had nothing to do with Primon's endorsement or approval."

"True, but his absence was mitigated by the fact that he wasn't needed at that point." Arlon replied. "The crisis was over. When Galvatron rose up and killed Nova Prime, Primon was going to lead the forces of the north until he encountered a young Gallus Honorum and felt he fit some alien prophecy and would make for the greatest of Primes."

"And you feel there is a crisis that only Primon can guide us through going on now?" Omega Supreme asked, waiting for Arlon to look away at not having a definitive answer for the question before continuing. "I know the murder of the Prime has created many problems, and that you doubt the Senate, Sentinel Honorum and whoever else to be up to the task of dealing with these problems, but I don't see that as a crisis that Primon and nobody else can face."

"Believe me, old friend," Arlon muttered shaking his head, "I pray to Primus that you're right."

Roller Pax

The six-wheeled dark blue cruiser rolled quietly through the endless hallways of the servants' section of Tyger Pax, finally arriving outside the door of Orion. Roller transformed and with a code he technically wasn't allowed to possess, he opened the door. To his astonishment, Orion remained sleeping; normally the big guy was alert to the slightest little things, but he was totally out. Then Roller saw the wheels on Orion's legs and remembered that he too had been deeply offline for nearly half a day following his alternate mode surgery. He peered out the window just beyond Orion's dormancy slab into the dark night before approaching the slab and gently slapping his friend's cheek and whispering. "Wake up you mook." Orion barely stirred, prompting Roller to grab his shoulder and shake it.

"Ughn…" Orion groaned from the pain caused by the shaking of his still-healing body.

"Shut up." Roller whispered harshly, covering his friend's mouth. Orion's optics burned to full activation and peered at Roller in confusion. "We're bustin' outta here. Hitting the Polarus night life."

"What?" The groggy Orion quietly asked after pushing Roller's hand away and rose to a seated position on his slab. "We can't hit nightlife until we reach the age of self-determination."

Roller reached down and spun one of the wheels on Orion's leg. "Now that we have wheels there's no visible difference between us and a Cybertronian with fifty thousand vorns under his belt. And the only guy outside of Tyger Pax whose seen me is the guy we're going to be hanging with."

Orion stood up and took a couple of wobbly steps, his body still apparently quite sore and unsteady from the surgery. "We're going to be smelted if we get caught leaving Tyger Pax."

"That's why we need to be really quiet." Roller replied and quietly slipped out of the room, looking back at Orion with clear expectations of being followed. "You'd better come to keep me out of trouble."

"A futile effort." Orion replied as he followed after the smaller robot. The two slipped outside the building and quietly shuffled their way away toward the forest. Once there they moved faster, but were still trying to be as quiet as possible. "This is a truly horrible idea." Orion whispered as they pushed through the underbrush.

"What? Arlon is still up north, so everyone else is in lax-mode." Roller replied, a hint of mirth in the whisper.

"Look, you may be unknown outside Tyger Pax, but people saw me with Torenia when we first arrived." Orion stated as the two reached a road that they felt was a safe distance from the compound. "And just who is this guy we're going to be hanging with?"

"Name's Dion, he's a laborer who delivered supplies to Tyger Pax." Roller answered as he stood on the road and transformed. "Good guy, I think you'll like him. Now transform."

Orion stared at his own limbs and then at the road. "This is my first time transforming with a vehicle mode." He explained. "Heck, I only transformed to shell mode twice prior to the surgery."

"Well stop fretting over your cherry and get it done." Roller grumbled.

"Cherry?" Orion asked.

"Has to do with mammalian reproduction, pretty gross actually." Roller replied. "Now let's transform and roll out!"

"Fine." Orion replied, still hesitant, and after another short pause, set upon shifting his body to his heavily altered former shell. The process ached, but that was due to the surgical injuries he was recovering from.

"Not bad actually." Roller mused as he took in Orion's vehicular shape. "Actually, pretty damn sharp. I'm jealous."

"Yeah, you're jealous of my common born, blocky, freight-hauler-changing-into bumper." Orion muttered as he activated the motors for each of the wheels on his body and slowly moved forward, then backward.

"Actually, yeah, how could I not be?" Roller replied. "You're huge, femmes stare at you all the time, and, well, I've seen your test scores."

"You have?" Orion questioned in surprise, his surprise quickly changing to irritation. "You're not allowed to look at my scores!"

"Relax, O, you have nothing to be embarrassed about." Roller replied. "Were they my scores, I'd have them posted on every wall in Polarus."

"Still," Orion grumbled, "that's an invasion of privacy!"

"Oh shut up, Orion." Roller snapped as he pulled away, prompting Orion to follow him toward the lights of the city in the near distance. "I scored well, very well actually in both the physical and intellectual tests, but you reset the bar for both. Frankly, in every way outside of where we were born, you have me trumped."

"Well then I guess it's good that nobility trumps everything else." Orion replied as he caught up to Roller.

"I wouldn't know." Roller replied. "Lesser houses are nobility, House Pax counts as royalty in this emirate."

"Piss off, your highness." Orion snapped, eliciting a laugh from Roller. "So where are we heading."

"Place is called 'Wolf at the Door', from what I've been told it's a bit of a shithole, but Dion says it's the only place to get a full taste of The Torus Height's flavorful denizens." Roller answered.

"Ugh, we're going to get in trouble." Orion grumbled as they entered the outskirts of the city. "But I suppose the silver lining is that this may be a good opportunity to get to know the people that you may someday lead."

"There ya' go, you just keep on finding those silver linings buddy!" Roller laughed as he accelerated through the street of the brightly lit town, passing other vehicles and pedestrians moving along the sidewalk. They weaved through the increasingly busy streets until turning down an alley and coming upon a dimly lit building adorned by a sign saying 'Wolf at the Door' in barely lit letters.

"You're kidding me." Orion asked as they transformed in front of the building.

"Naw man, this is perfect." Roller grinned as he approached the door.

A large robot, one similar in size and bulk to Orion but whose movements were heavier and less graceful, stepped out from the shadow in the doorway and stood before the two. "You'll submit to a weapon's scan before entering."

Roller and Orion looked at each other and shrugged before turning back and replying in unison. "Agreed."

The bouncer pulled out a prod of some sort and ran it over the outsides of their frames. As he did so he noted Orion's new wheels. "Damn, you have some squeaky clean wheels, dude." He then looked over at Roller and noted that his too looked brand new. "Both of you." He then stepped back and eyed them warily. "What's with the new wheels? You two ain't a pair of protos, are you?"

Roller nervously shifted toward Orion, a look of mock disbelief and indignation on his face. "Protos, us? Hell no!"

"The grease on those wheels of yours is clean enough to bath in," the bouncer replied, "and there isn't the slightest bit of wear on those treads. How's about you two kids head back to your adolescenters before your state-assigned nannies notice you gone from your cribs?"

"You're right." Orion replied, eliciting a look of shocked anger from Roller. "Our wheels and motors are new, though even years from now they'll still likely look new, at least I believe they will. You see, we're not from here, we're both from Ankmor Park, a mining town a couple hundred miles south of Petrex and the main source of energon for the emirate of Ankmor. We were miners, laborers for whom motors, wheels and treads were considered an unnecessary expense. Well, after living frugally and saving our pay for three vorns, we were finally able to pay off our tabs to the company stores, pay for alt modes and book passage to the closest emirate where commoners aren't shit upon." Orion intensified his gaze into the bouncer's optics. "We found jobs in North Burthov, got a paycheck, polished ourselves up and decided to hit the big city."

Roller shrugged. "You know, big for the Heights."

The bouncer stared them over. "You're looking to do it up big and you came to this place?"

Orion chuckled. "Not enough polish on Cybertron to wash off enough of the mines to make us comfortable in any place higher rent than this."

The bouncer looked them over one more time before stepping aside. "Well then boys, don't let me take up any more of your time. Nobody deserves a few drinks more than you two."

Orion nodded and the two of them walked in. Roller leaned in close to his friend and whispered as they entered the establishment. "That was slagging brilliant."

"I feel dirty." Orion replied uneasily. "I don't want to lie again."

"But you're so good at it!" Roller responded as they walked through several patrons toward the main bar.

"Pax!" Both newcomers turned to see a robot sitting at a table calling out to Roller. He had a blue torso with orange portions of what must have been his alternate mode mounted on his back, his face and head were white and nestled within an orange helmet. Roller scampered over to the table with Orion right behind him. "You made it."

"Hey, quiet with the Pax stuff!" Roller grumbled as they sat across from them. "I'm not supposed to be here, if they find out I'm the Pax pup I won't get served and Torenia will be called to collect me."

"Fine, sorry pup." Dion replied and then looked at Orion. "So who's your friend?"

"This is my brother Orion." Roller replied.

"Brother?" Dion looked him over. "Nice to meet you, Orion Pax."

"It's just Orion." The red and blue robot extended his hand to shake Dion's. "I'm a commoner who just got fortunate enough to be found by Tornenia and brought to live in Tyger Pax."

"Oh yeah, I remember hearing about a proto Torenia found along the road south of here. So Roller's the House pup, and you're the house pet. Well commoner or not, you're still probably too fancy for the riffraff here." Dion replied and smiled as he saw a waitress walking over to them. "But even dives like this can house a gem or two. Boys, I'd like you to meet Ariel, the best serving femme in the northern hemisphere."

"I thought I was the best serving femme on the planet." Ariel replied. "So, Dion, who are your friends." The femme smiled broadly at each but once the initial smile was given to Dion and Roller her optics settled on Orion.

"My dark blue friend here is Roller, and this fine red specimen is Orion." Dion said, noting the waitress staring at Orion. "Yeah, he's pretty, but he's just a commoner."

"I wish he were more common." Ariel replied. "What can I get you lads?"

"Let's keep it simple, these fellows are young yet." Dion replied. "Three large vials of Northern Sky Engex, and bring three more five minutes later."

"That's too much too soon." Orion replied.

"Quit being a femme." Roller jabbed.

"Hey." Orion snapped at his friend. "I enjoy our insults, but such generalizations regarding groups are beneath you and are offensive to both them and those that hear you do it."

"Whoah, settle down hero." Ariel chuckled at Orion. "I can handle comments from knuckleheads like your friend, so there's no need for you to be such a femme."

"I…wha…" the confused Orion stuttered, "I, uh, I thought…I…Roller…his comment was demeaning to you. I thought you would be insulted."

Ariel reached over and gently cupped Orion's face, smiling at him as she did so. "You know nothing, Orion." She then straightened up and addressed the table, smiling at Dion and Roller as they chuckled at the still startled Orion. "Three Northern Sky's followed by another three, coming right up."

Dion leaned back as Ariel walked away from the table and grinned at the two youngsters. "We're going to play it low key tonight Roller, just hang out here for a while before I send you kids home, but if you can get your friend's hero impulse in check then maybe some night we can do a full-fledged pub-crawl that takes us through the entire city."

"You don't know the half of it." Roller muttered, chuckling at his friend's expense. "But with your help I'm certain that in time we can fully corrupt the big lug's idealism." Roller's optics started back toward Dion but froze as he caught sight of something at the door. "Holy shit, I didn't know Cybertronians could get that big."

Dion and Orion turned to see what he was talking about and Dion groaned. "Oh, that's Lugnut. Haven't seen him in a while. Well, actually, haven't seen him in person for a while. Saw him on a vid-feed at a place even seedier than this a few weeks back. Couldn't make out his face…or what one would call his face were he to actually have a face, but I couldn't make out his features due to the digital obfuscation programming, but it was obviously him. The stupid bastard didn't even change his paintjob." Dion winced as he realized something. "But I didn't just say that and you didn't hear anything."

"What?" Roller asked.

"Never mind." Dion replied. "Just know that despite being nine head's taller than your large friend here and monstrously powerful, in actuality he's a gigantic asshole who loves picking fights and ruining everyone's fun, so by all means, we should hang out with him."

"He's being sarcastic." Orion nudged Roller with a smile on his face.

"Thanks for the tip." Roller snapped back giving Orion a stupid look.

"Yeah, forgot you guys are just babies." Dion interjected. "Sarcasm aside, I would suggest not looking his way."

The heads of the two young robots turned back toward the table, which worked out as Ariel had just returned to place their drinks in front of them. "There you go boys."

"I'm sure you saw who just walked in." Dion said seriously to Ariel.

"Don't worry, D, I can take care of myself." Ariel replied, though there was a little worry in her voice.

"His right arm has been recently rebuilt." Orion said out of the blue.

"What?" Roller and Ariel asked.

Dion stared in amazement at Orion. "How do you know that?"

"Color patterns on and around his shoulder aren't as faded as his torso or arm." Orion explained.

"Wow, great observation." Dion replied.

"You mean he's right?" Ariel asked.

"Yea…I…err…I don't know, actually." Dion replied.

"Something to do with what you didn't just say and we didn't just hear?" Roller asked sarcastically. "Trust me Dion, if you actually had to go to school with this clown, you wouldn't be surprised by him catching this."

"Oh Primus, you don't actually watch that stuff." Ariel groaned and then looked at the younger two. "Dion telling you…wait, did you say school?" She looked at Dion in surprise, and at seeing his sheepish grin, gave him a scolding glare. "Never mind. But he's right to tell you to forget everything he may have said about whatever he was talking about. Seriously, stay away from that stuff." She then turned fully to Dion and slapped him hard on the shoulder. "They better not be from this last pulse, or so help me I'll beat your ass." With that she started to storm off, but stopped as a deep voice bellowed from across the bar.

"Hey sweet-plates, get those swiveling hips over here and say hello to me!" Lugnut called out as he let his frame fall on a sturdy metal chair that still strained under his massive bulk. "I know you've been missing me."

Ariel grimaced before turning and smiling at the huge patron and walking toward his table. "Of course I have. Where have you been?"

Orion observed everything from the corner of his optic. It was none of his business, but he was compelled to make sure that Ariel, or anyone else for that matter, was not harmed. "Been on vacation down south, enjoying the warmer weather, the busier cities, the better, well everything." Lugnut laughed. "The only thing worthwhile in this frozen shithole is you, Baby."

"That's so sweet." Ariel replied through her forced smile. "So what can I get for you?"

"A vat of Nightmare Fuel along with a vial of whatever fu-fu drink you like." Lugnut replied. "I'm sure the Wolf at the Door can make do without you for a night as you keep me company."

Orion continued monitoring the two as Roller leaned toward Dion. "How does someone that big even come into existence?"

Dion shrugged. "A few hundred vorns back your vassals, House Boltax acquired lots of extra sentio metallico and added it to their ancestral hotspot hoping to get lots of healthy new members to add to their ranks. Don't know if your instructor has covered this, but that's pretty illegal, but not entirely uncommon, especially in other emirates. Anyway, when Vector Sigma gave off a pulse only one viable spark was sent up into House Boltax's hotspot, and instead of lots of healthy bots, they got that one monster."

Orion caught the conversation, but was twisting his head more toward Lugnut and Ariel, watching what was going on with them. "Sorry hun," Ariel replied as she took a casual step back away from the table, "but the boss is paying me to get the patrons drunk, not to get drunk with the patrons."

"But I'm not just a patron," Lugnut boasted, "I'm a noble, one of the finest specimens on the planet, and I'm sure your boss wouldn't have a problem with you spending some quality time with a V.I.P. like me. I'm kind of a celebrity in certain circles."

"You're a celebrity here too, Luggy." Ariel replied playfully, trying to calm the braggart down as she turned away. "Let me go get your drink."

Lugnut lurched up to his feet and grabbed the vastly smaller femme by the arm. "Don't get dismissive with me, bitch, I'm a slagging champion! I trashed all comers where I've been, and I'm entitled to a little respect from a common trollop like you!"

"Hands off the lady!" Orion roared as he gripped the massive wrist.

The stunned Lugnut peered down at Orion and after a few tense moments of silence an ominous chuckling stared coming out from his nearly featureless face, his large red optic burning brightly. "Punk, you have no idea what you just did."

"Hold up there, Lug." Dion called out nervously as he stood from his chair, slowly approaching the three in a likely futile attempt to quell the situation. "He's a kid, not even a week old yet. Hell, look at his wheels, his axel grease is clean enough to brush your teeth with."

"So the slag what?" Lugnut bellowed. "He dared to put his common slagging hands on me! ME! The greatest fighter on the planet!"

"Uh, don't know how to tell you this, Nuts, but I saw your fight." Dion hesitantly replied. "First, I thought the first rule of fight club was that you can't talk about fight club. Secondly, uhhh, that dragon guy from Simfur pretty much owned you. Took your arm and used it to beat you unconsc…"

"That wasn't me!" Lugnut roared. "I don't know what the slag you're talking about!"

"Please release the lady." Orion calmly requested, looking up at the raging aggressor.

"That's please release the lady, sir." Lugnut growled. "I'm of House Boltax, you're old enough to show your superiors their due respect, you piece of shit!" With that Lugnut released his grip on Ariel and whipped his massive arm at Orion, sending the youth sailing across the bar and into the wall, toppling a couple of tables in the process.

"Hey!" Dion and Roller yelled as they charged the giant, but they two were sent flying back as Lugnut swiped his massive right arm at them.

"Stop it!" Ariel cried out, but she was ignored as Lugnut started marching toward Orion, who was sliding up against the wall at his back to a standing position. Lugnut reached back to deliver a punch to the far smaller opponent, but at seeing him coming Orion braced himself against the wall and sent a kick to the giant's midsection, one hard enough to stop Lugnut and force him to lean over a bit, enough for Orion to get to a full standing position and deliver a thunderous left haymaker to the side of Lugnut's head without having to reach up too far.

Lugnut's large head snapped back, he turned to look back at Orion a moment later, but his suddenly wobbly legs started to give under his weight, and he stumbled back a few steps to catch his balance. He planted a hand on a table, but it toppled and he dropped to one knee. An audible gasp went out around the bar as they all realized that the invincible Lugnut had been staggered by a single punch thrown by what may be a newborn half his size. Orion stepped forward, extending a hand to help the dizzy fighter, but was startled as an electronic device suddenly slammed into Lugnut's back. Orion turned his head to see where it had come from, only lurch back as a similar device slammed into and affixed itself to his chest. He looked from it to the door where it had come from, and saw a larger than average red robot holding a big unusual rifle pointed at him.

"What the…?" Lugnut grumbled as his head finally started working through the cobwebs. He turned to look at the newcomer as well, and grumbled again as he stood upright. "Piss off Ironhi…aaaahhhhhhh!" The red robot had flipped a switch on the rifle, causing an intensely painful surge to go through the bodies of both Lugnut and Orion. Both robots collapsed to the floor, but Orion was able to work through the pain, grip the device on his chest, and pry it free, dropping it on the floor next to him, but was barely able to remain conscious after the struggle. Lugnut convulsed violently for a few more moments, knocking several chairs and tables over in the process before going silent. Both Lugnut and the vibrating device on the floor next to Orion suddenly ceased movement as the red robot switched the subjugation chips off.

Orion heard the footsteps getting closer, it was the only noise left in the bar, and finally saw the face of the robot who had subdued the two of them. The silver face was housed within a red helmet, both the face and helmet more than a little weathered looking. The armed robot, one displaying a look of absolute seriousness stared down at the youngster for several tense moments before saying something. "Now who in tha' pit are you?"

"He's…" Roller stammered out as he stepped forward, "he's with me."

The armed robot turned and looked Roller over from head to toe. "That's nice ta hear, but ah don't know you either."

"Slag all of you." Lugnut groaned as he started moving again. "Your position of Constable is effectively over, Ironhide. The moment word gets out that you assaulted a noble, you're slagged."

Ironhide chuckled lightly. "Planetary statute number seven four eight three states that an officer of the law may employ any reasonable means of subduing an individual breaking the law regardless of the transgressor's social status."

"That's not taken seriously." Lugnut grumbled, still smarting from being electrified a few minutes prior.

"It is in this emirate." Ironhide replied before turning back to Roller. "So just who are ya' and Thunderpunch here? It'll make booking ya' infinitely easier if I know your names."

"Hey Ironhide, this kid didn't do anything, and Thunderpunch over there was simply trying to get Nutso to let go of Ariel and got punched across the room for his chivalry." Dion stepped forward. "Ask anyone. So how about we let these two go?"

"Yeah, ask anyone." Lugnut chuckled as he got to his knees and then stood up, Orion getting to his feet as well. "Like anyone here will bear witness against a member of House Boltax."

"Truth is truth," Orion chimed in, "it's no less valid coming from the mouth of a commoner, and any retaliation against it is a crime against reason and integrity."

Every head in the bar turned to look at Orion, humorous disbelief etched on their faces, including Ironhide's. "Ah had a feeling you were a youngun' by yer' spit-shined tires, but that corny bit just confirmed it for me."

"Corny, and pointless." Lugnut replied, glaring down at Orion in as intimidating a manner possible. "The simple fact is that nobody here will earn the wrath of House Boltax."

"Oh for slag's sake!" Roller had had enough of this. "I'll see your nobility and raise you a royalty." He looked at the stunned and terrified Dion. "Cat's out of the bag anyway, so I might as well defang this twat."

"Royalty?" Lugnut roared. "What the slag is this shitbird saying?"

Ironhide remained silently staring at Roller for several moments before walking over to him and staring deeply into his face. "Roller Pax?"

Roller nodded, causing everyone in the bar with the exceptions of Orion, Dion and Ironhide to gasp. A moment later Dion followed suit, feigning surprise. "Whaaaaa, you're a Pax? You should have sai…"

"Shut up Dion." Ironhide grumbled but maintained his stare at Roller. "Ah suppose your hard hitting friend is the protoform Torenia found." Ironhide turned and looked at the red and blue youth. "Orion is it?"

"Yes sir." Orion replied, bowing his head humbly.

Ironhide nodded and approached Orion. "Most places of business have video surveillance, but one of the many charms of 'The Wolf at the Door' is their utter lack of it. Kind of gives a homey feel for naer-do-wells. I can proceed with witness statements, but it's been more vorns than I care to remember where a conviction was reached without some sort of recording technology being involved." Ironhide turned and looked at Ariel. "Ah am, however, fully capable of issuing a restraining order ta Lugnut based on mah own judgment, to keep him away from both you and this establishment. Would ya like that?"

Ariel looked angrily at Lugnut and nodded. "Yes sir, I would."

Ironhide nodded. "Good." He turned to Lugnut. "Get tha' hell outta here and don't be comin' back."

"Slag you 'Hide." Lugnut grumbled, but as any leverage his noble status would have granted him was now overruled by the presence of a Pax, he eventually turned and marched to the door, knocking over one more table and pushing aside several patrons on his way out.

Ironhide turned to Roller and Orion. "You two get the hell outta here too. Ah may not be issuing any restraining orders fer you two, but ah better not see you in here again until you've reached the age of self-determination."

Roller took a step toward the door, but Orion gripped his arm lightly to stop him before turning to Ironhide. "I appreciate that sir, but the fact is that we are under the age of self-determination, we knew that being here would constitute a crime prior to us entering the establishment, and we entered anyway, lying to the bouncer in the process." Roller glared disbelievingly at Orion, a glare that Orion met with a look of sorrow. "You may someday rule these people; you must show them that you are as bound by the law as they are. It is what is expected of House Pax. It is one of the things that sets your House apart from others, and it is something that you should be very proud of." Orion, standing nearly a head taller than Ironhide, looked into the constable's optics. "We surrender ourselves to you, and will accept the appropriate punishment."

Ironhide was stunned that his offer for them to walk away wasn't taken, but a look of impressed approval washed over his face. "Alright, Orion, Roller Pax, Ah, Ironhide, Head Constable of Polarus and the surrounding villages, acting under the authority of Arlon Pax, Emir of The Torus Heights, do hereby place ya both under arrest. Ya are entitled to a trial with a jury consisting of yer peers, but if ya are of current sound mind ya may forego that right and choose to plead guilty and submit yerselves to a sentence of mah choosing." Ironhide leaned in close. "How much have ya imbibed?"

Roller glared back at the table that they had been sitting at with Dion moments before, and took in the sight of three full vials of engex. "One sip."

Orion remained looking at Ironhide. "I've had none, sir."

Ironhide shrugged. "Good enough for me. How do you wish to proceed?"

Orion looked at Roller, who stared back at him with subdued anger and grumbled. "You've gotten us this far, you might as well see it through for us."

Orion smiled and nodded before turning back to Ironhide. "We both plead guilty and will submit to your decision on punishment."

Ironhide glanced at Roller Pax, who nodded his agreement. The constable then looked them both over before rendering his decision. "Ah sentence ya both to three hundred hours of community service to be completed within a six month time period."

"Three hundred hours!" Roller grumbled before looking accusingly at Orion. "You were supposed to keep me OUT of trouble!"

"Roller Pax," Ironhide continued, "you will spend your time working at the Polarus hospitals and adolescenters doing maintenance work or whatever else they choose for you to do."

Roller just continued looking agitatedly up at Orion. "Three hundred hours."

"Orion, well, the Polarus Constabulary can always use another set of hands." Ironhide smirked. "Who knows, it may just be the direction you choose to go in life."