Chapter 5-Two Worlds
Over the next few days, Orion Pax kept up his correspondence with Megatron. At first they just sent discreet messages back and forth, which was mostly just Megatron trying to gauge what kind of person Orion was through words. Trying to see if he was some sort of spy for the senate seeking to gain his trust.
But once the gladiator got over his initial suspicions of Orion, who proved his genuine need to understand and learn the truth, Megatron agree to host videolink sessions with the cop. For the first time Orion saw Megatron in a live feed, and not on some old clip of him, and he had to admit, he had a very powerful presence about him. Even through a screen, Megatron was a large mech, and he looked much older up close as well.
The topic of their conversations would vary from the painfully mundane-like politics and even sports-to deeper subjects like the subjugation and meaning of free will and individuality. On those subjects, Megatron was much more animated and lively, like he had learned the meaning of life and was trying to share it with the only person who bothered to really learn from him. It was the only time that Megatron could shake off the chains of reality and just let go.
"Where do you find the inspiration?" Orion asked. "I mean, you write all of these speeches and essays, they had to be hard to compose, even with help. Honestly, you make the singers and musicians from Harmonex look like protoforms."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far. Political treatises and song writing are two different things." Megatron went quiet for a second. "Maybe they are a bit alike. Song writers seek inspiration from the world around them and what's going on in order to find the inspiration to write their ballads. I am no different. I use what is happening around me to help me write my words. My feelings are what fuel it all, my experiences flesh it out, and my mind drives it all together."
It was a beautiful way to put it. The more Megatron spoke, the more he wondered just what Megatron's early life was like. The energon mines are not a place for the faint of heart, and even seasoned bots often succumb to the harsh conditions that are prevalent within the bowels of the mine shafts. And to think that the workers' aren't even treated with respect for all the risks that they take.
Megatron obviously had a plan, or else he wouldn't have gone this far with his messages. But just what was his plan? Just how did Megatron plan on facing the senate and abolishing a social structure that had been around for thousands of years? Maybe now he was using words, but what if that failed? What if Megatron decided to use more direct means of getting his point across?
These questions made Orion nervous-and with good reason according to Jazz.
"You need to understand what you're getting into here." His friend said. "I'll stand by you, bro. You know that. But you should also know that this will have serious consequences. Right now you're just talking; the minute you do that laws are enforced? Are you prepared to break the laws that you were sworn to uphold?"
Not having a proper answer for that, he relayed the question to Megatron.
"What sort of laws?" Replied Megatron. "Laws that forbid the outcasts from mingling with the luxorers? Or laws that confined us to obey, not think?"
Orion had no answer for that either.
"Listen, Orion." Jazz said. "If we all thought that laws are brutal and unfair, then the whole system would fall apart from revolution. You're a police officer , bro. can you imagine what that would look like?"
"We're not that far gone, Jazz. We're a long way from that." Orion answered. "It's the opposite, don't you see? Nobody says anything. Who decided that our lives were only worth how useful or unique our forms were? What do our leaders say about it?"
Nothing, that's what. Despite being a Prime, Nominus was a largely absent leader in the eyes of the people, nothing more than an advocate for the Functionist sect that he overwhelmingly supports. The senate itself, an amalgamation of self interested bots, quelled any form of opposition to the social system that kept them on top of the planet. Across Cybertron, Megatron argued-and Orion had to agree-cybertronians had grown lazy, satisfied with what is handed to them.
"The people take everything at face value." Megatron said. "They no longer ask questions or think for themselves. They are merely given an order and carry it out. Free will is the right to decide what you should do and how you should do it. Without that, we only act without thinking why or what we are doing, and without considering the consequences for our actions. Thus, we are doomed to repeat mistakes that can easily be avoided."
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The more Orion spoke with Megatron, the more he realized why so many people were drawn to him. Megatron was far from a raving lunatic or fanatic that preached on street corners in the past, he made some good points that were hard to deny, and asked questions that made people actually think. He encouraged people to think about their lives, about why they did the things they do and why they continued doing it.
He displayed a natural charisma. When he spoke, you found yourself listening. He was difficult to ignore and when he spoke of individual freedom it was easy to think that-no matter how many people were in the audience-he was talking directly to you.
Still, he hadn't met the gladiator in person. He wasn't sure the risk was worth it. In truth he wasn't sure what the risks were.
But Megatron was eager to meet this curious bot. "You should at least consider it, Orion. If you want to understand Cyebrtron, you must see Tarn."
"Maybe if you saw Iacon, you would better understand Cybertron itself." Orion countered.
"If only that were possible," Megatron said. He gave a weary smile that made him look even older. "But a mech can dream can't he?"
Orion chose to cut that line of conversation short. It was a bit humbling to see a mech as well known and strong as Megatron have unfulfilled dreams of seeing the rest of this-their-world.
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"Why Megatron?" Orion asked. He wanted to know why Megatron had the name that would undoubtedly draw attention-if that was his intention at all.
"It wasn't by choice, mind you. I was born with this name and it wasn't until much later that I learned it was the same name of the Fallen-just marginally different." Megatron explained. "At first I cursed my name, thinking that it was the reason for my misfortune, that I was stuck in that dark hellhole slaving away for hours on end. It wasn't until I met someone special that I realized that neither I nor my fellow miners were to blame. That fault lied with the senate and the Functionists, who think that we're all expendable parts to an imaginary machine they use to justify their lording over us."
"The Triple M had removed their T-Cogs in rebellion against the Functionists and Adaptus." He said. "They blame Primus for the way things are."
"Bah!" Megatron scoffed. "No one here in the Badlands believe in gods or the Thirteen. We put stock in what we can see, here and touch. Though there is one god that we worship to a certain degree."
"Who?"
"A god who comes for us when our time is near, whether we want to or not. He looms over us, waiting to get our Sparks once they leave the mortal coil." Megatron said eloquently. "You know him by many names, but mostly as Mortilus of the Guiding Hand."
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Elmeth sat in her chair, leaning her head on her arms as she watched Megatron talk once more with that Iaconian on the videolink. Despite just getting back from a match, he didn't seem as tired as he usually does or somber. If anything he seemed more alive than she had ever seen him. It was honestly refreshing to see her good friend look so alive.
'Who is this Orion Pax?' Elmeth thought. 'Who is he to get such a reaction out of Megatron?'
The gladiator sat near the window engaged in another deep discussion about philosophy. It involved something about the results of mixing religion with politics and vice versa and how it could lead to problems within their already unstable society. Once that conversation was over, they switched to something not as deep.
"So you have followers in Kaon and Tarn," Orion said. "Where else?"
"That's the kind of question a spy would ask."
"If you were worried about me being a spy then we would've stopped talking a long time ago."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. My friend says that I should at least worry that you will betray me, the first time I got your message." Megatron grinned at Elmeth, who huffed and looked away.
"Smart thinking. I would be a little suspicious to if I were in her position."
"But if I cowered at the idea of you being in league with the senate, then what would that say to those who heed my words? How would it look it a mech who protested the senate was cowed at the mere mention of them?" He went on. "You have to be willing to fight for you goals if you want to see them come true. I will fight to see my dreams come to life, but will you? Can you fight for your principles?"
"I think I can," Orion said after taking a few minutes to think about it. "And I will fight anyone for them."
He meant it. Orion had known that there was a world beyond Iacon, beyond castes, but he never truly realized it until now. Megatron's words had lit a fire in his Spark that he didn't know existed until it was lit by the revolutionary ideas of this philosophical killer.
Megatron seemed to realize it to, as he smiled and nodded. "Now you're starting to understand."
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Jazz noticed the changes in his best friend over the past few days. Gone was the brooding police officer with no sense of humor, the new Orion Pax patrolled the streets of Iacon with a new sense of purpose, like he was reformatted into a whole new mech into a world of possibilities.
He pointed this out to him, who looked confused. "But, I'm no different than how I usually am."
"No, you're definitely different, I just don't know why." Jazz snapped his fingers. "I know! You're smiling. Hell must have frozen over for that to happen."
Elita-1 smacked his arm. "Jazz, be nice."
The trio was at the community center near the Stellar Galleries, an observatory for astronomers and philosophers. Te place had a balcony that overlooked much of the busy central area of Iacon, which was already losing its golden luster in the face of the setting sun.
"He is right though," She said. "You have changed a bit lately. What happened? Did you get a promotion?"
"No, I just feel a bit enlightened. That's all." Orion smiled. "Talking with Megatron has given me a new lease on life. I feel much lighter now."
"Not him again." Elita-1 groaned. "Orion, please, I don't like you talking to him. It's only going to end badly for you."
"Elita, I've had my fair share of dangerous cases and faced numerous criminals right here in Iacon. I can handle Megatron if I need to, but I don't. he's the genuine article and support him."
Jazz laughed. "He must be good if he's getting such praise from you. You don't dish those out often."
"I thought you were smarter than this, Orion. You're so entranced by his fancy words, but do you know what he's really like?" Elita-1 asked. "Do you even know what he wants?"
Orion thought about the answer for a long time. "He wants what Cybertron used to be. The Cybertron where you were not categorized the moment you matured from a protoform. The Cybertron where anyone can become anything. The Cybertron that survived the Quintessons, the Vok and the Rust Plague. A word where no one was afraid to challenge themselves and test their limits."
Jazz shook his head. "That's what you want. It's time you stopped pretending."
Orion thought about that then nodded. "Yes, it is."
They were silent for a while until the sun went fully down. Jazz got a call from one of his co-workers and had to leave, bidding them both goodbye. This left Orion and Elita-1 alone together in a tense silence that permeated the entire empty area. It was Elita-1 who broke the little stand-off they had going on.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" She said. "All this talk of going against the senate and Functionists, it's a dangerous line of thought. How do you think the higher castes will react to this idea? Do you think they want to return to the days when success was based on merit and dedication?"
"How can I count on others to do what I am unwilling to do myself?" He replied.
Elita-1 said nothing. They sat together in the darkness looking down at the luminous city below them. Once he was sure that she calmed down-somewhat-he spoke up again.
"Do you remember that incident a few stellar cycles ago?" He asked. "You saw a mech get beaten to death because he transformed into a beast. They killed a bot in broad daylight and no one did a thing. In fact, they weren't even punished, only suspended for disturbing the peace."
"What is your point?"
"As I recall you were so angry that no one did anything to stop it. I think it was the first time I saw you get passionate about anything really." He looked down at her, blue eyes glowing in the night. "So why are you so afraid of the senate now? Where did all of that righteous anger disappear to? Do you think that they'll come after you for talking smack to them or something? That they might come after you for some trumped up reason?"
"No, it's none of that. What I have is very real, and it could get us all in trouble." Elita-1 said.
Orion was about to ask what she meant when he saw something that shut him up. A small piece of metal ore floated up into the air in front of his face. It stayed there for a moment before slowly floating over to Elita-1's outstretched hand. She looked up at him and he immediately knew why she was so scared of the regime.
Elita-1 was an Outlier.
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The next few days were a blur. Orion did his duties as usual, not out of loyalty to his caste, but because it was a job that he took seriously. Orion considered himself lucky that he enjoyed his job-or at least liked it enough not to think about shooting himself-as there were numerous bots in the world who were stuck with jobs in castes that either they didn't like or weren't cut out for. Orion was an enforcer of the law who vowed to protect people from crime and corruption that threatened the stability of their lives. Perhaps that was why Megatron's words resonated with him so. He could not stand corruption, and ironically the senate was probably the most corrupt of them all.
Things between him and Elita-1 had changed gradually. They never spoke of what she had shown him on that night, but they both knew that nothing could really be said that hasn't been implied already. Still, when he saw her in passing, she looked much better, like she was no longer burdened to carry her secret alone. Orion vowed on the Allspark to never speak of her powers to anyone, not even Jazz. To do so would be a death wish for her.
Outliers were bots with powers that had no relation to their overall design or function. Obviously that didn't sit well with the Functionists, who deemed all outliers as even more horrid freaks than beast formers. So great was this social stigma that they would actively send agents, Enforcers, to hunt down and capture or kill the outlier in their sights. It was a terrifying thought to have those fanatics hunting you down like a wounded Turbofox because of some anomaly you possess. Orion could now see why Elita-1 was so scared of drawing attention to him-and herself. One slip up could mean the end of her life and possibly his if any official got wind of his actions.
Even still, he was in too deep to stop now. Megatron had opened his eyes and once you see paradise for what it really is, you can no longer see it as paradise. And he still wanted to know just how Megatron planned to jump start this little revolution of his. Sure he was using words now, but what if that failed? Would he still go the non-violent route or just upgrade to more active methods? As an officer of the law he could not in good conscious just ignore a potential threat, no matter how enlightening Megatron was. But Orion hoped that Megatron would not go down that path-not when he had so much going for him already.
And it seemed that their conversations were not going unnoticed. Spectators on the DataNet would listen on the conversations they had and speak of this mech who thought himself as equal to Megatron of Tarn. They spoke about him as much as Megatron and many of his quotes would pop up here and there. Though they made sure to keep his identity a secret, he was sure that he would be found out eventually.
Despite the measures he taken to make sure that such a thing never happens, Orion figured that he'd play it safe and lay low for a while. It was only a matter of time before someone connected the dots. He messaged Megatron and informed him that he was going to be silent for a few days until they met in person.
Things were coming to a head very shortly. Maybe it was time for him and Megatron to meet face to face.