Chapter 9-Autocracy

Iacon was in shambles. The people were on the verge of an all-out panic and the authorities were doing their best to maintain order in the increasingly chaotic situation. Nominus Prime was in critical condition and his Elite Guard, who were also close to the bomb's epicenter, were already dead. The senate was on high alert as they tried to keep their composure in the public eye, although they couldn't completely hide their fear at the assassination attempt. They were faced with the startling reality that there was someone out there who was no afraid to target high profile characters to get their point across. Death was not picky, it takes who it wants and shows no mercy.

Orion Pax had his comm-channel tuned into the DataNet as he was on patrol. It kept him level-headed as he worked hard with the other officers who were tasked with keeping the peace in Rodion. The Department was working around the clock to keep the public from tearing itself apart in fear. Disasters like this were the perfect opportunity for rioters and bad eggs to stir up trouble.

"This is a disaster," Orion said to Dion as they drove down the street. "I knew Iacon was bound to get hit, but to actually launch an attack on the Primal Bascilla?"

"I know. Quickshadow's got all units on high alert right now. Riots are spreading all over the city." Dion said and cursed. "Damn it. Are those lower caste bastards so resentful that they'd attack the Prime like that? He's done nothing to them!"

"Nominus Prime was a victim of circumstance, Dion. There are people out there who really don't care who they hurt, so long as the world burns. There are some people from the lower castes who probably got sick of being treated like slag and took the initiative."

"Those Scraplets should stay in the holes they crawled out of," Dion growled. "People like them are the reason so many fleshies look down on us."

Orion was silent for a few minutes, but when he spoke, his voice was hard and cold. "Words like that is the reason we're in this mess to begin with."

Dion was caught off guard by his friend's anger, and saw Orion drive past him, pushing well past the speed limit. "What? Orion, wait up!"

Orion felt his entire form stiffen with anger. Was he really like that once? So short-sighted and blind, refusing to see the problem growing right under their noses? It made him sick to his stomach to think that he could've been like the rest of the people, unwilling to see the problem for what it truly is. Now he realized that doing his job was all the more difficult, because he now saw his fellow officers, people he's worked with for years, as part of the problem. It was not a good way to think for a police officer sworn to protect the innocent.

He then realized that Megatron had given him a taste of the forbidden fruit. And now he could never live his life, or see the world, the way he always had anymore. He was free from his little purgatory, and there was nothing he could do.

XXXXXX

In the Badlands, ripples of what happened in Iacon were being felt by the lower castes as waves. Unlike the remorseful, fearful reactions brought about by the attack on the Prime in Iacon and the neighboring cities, the people in the Badlands were more…jovial in response. Many laborers and miners were partying in local pubs, while gladiators rejoiced-someone finally took the fight to the senate. Now, they thought, those pompous blowhards in the upper castes knew what it was like to fear death looming over their shoulder. Those that looked down on them, spat on them, treated them like they were worthless, they had it coming to them a mile away.

Megatron could see the situation was sprailing out of control. There were already riots and protests going on in Kaon, and many rioters were gunned down by the state militia in response, without word or warning. Praxus was already being divided between hardline functionists and anti-functionist citizens. Even Ky-Alexia was not spared from the chaos. And it was all sparked by Nominus Prime. A damn shame to, he actually gave a pretty decent speech there.

'I'm amazed nothing's happened to me yet.' Megatron thought.

He wasn't stupid. He knew there were thousands of people who blamed him for the bombings and now they were most likely going to pin the assassination on him to. There were bots trying to make connections that didn't exist and pointed fingers at him, all the while the real criminals lit Cybertron on fire, ripping the planet apart from the inside out like Scraplets feasting on a rusting corpse.

"I swear Megatron, you are the only one in this city who isn't cheering about Prime's sacking."

The words came from Impactor, an old friend of Megatron's who also worked the mining detail (but wasn't kicked out of the job, yet). He was a gruff, blunt mech who spoke his mind, but Megatron respected him for it, despite having different views on how to change the functionist problem. In a bout of luck, Megatron ran into Impactor while he was heading back to the Pits, and the two spent their afternoon catching up at a nearby bar.

"So what am I looking at again?" Impactor asked as he read over a datapad Megatron gave him. "Not more poetry."

"It's not poetry, it's a treatise. On the state of Cybertronian society. I started writing it after those protesters were shot the other day." Megatron said.

"There's a chapter here called 'After the Proudstar: Nominus Prime and the Illusion of Progress'." That was bold of him considering it wasn't even a day since the bombing. Impactor grinned at his friend's courage. "You feel pretty strongly about this, don't you?"

Megatron grunted as he took a swig of his drink. "This planet is diseased, Impactor." He pointed at the datapad. "And that's the cure."

Impactor snorted. "Non-violent direct action? Why don't we just round up a few hundred of our fellow miners, break out the path blasters and take the senate by force?"

"Because the revolution will be about ideas. Taking a new step, uttering a new word…that's what the ruling elite fears the most since violence solves nothing."

"Yeah, well I'll remember that the next time I'm being pistol-whipped by my supervisors."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud crash from the bar and they turned to see two officers harassing a smaller, skinnier burnt orange mech with ostentatious eye brows. Between them were a few spilled drinks. This wasn't going to end well.

"Now I'm sorry," The skinny mech said. "But I'm not going to clean it up."

The first officer growled and leaned over him. "You spilled it runt."

"My name's not Runt, it's Rung." He sniffed. "I'll buy you another one, but I'm not sorting out the mess. I'm not a service drone."

"Who are you then?" The second officer jeered, getting behind Rung. "A knight of Cybertron? One of the Thirteen? Alpha Trion's long lost brother?"

To his credit, Rung didn't flinch as the cop grabbed his shoulder tightly. "You seem to have forgotten your place in the natural order of things. So why don't you get down on your knees-while you still have knees-and stay there until my friend and I have the ten drinks you're gonna buy us. What do you say? Do we have an understanding?"

"Look, Megatron," Impactor sighed. "I hate the "ruling elite" as much as you do, but inequality is a way of life. Put two people in a room together and one will always try to assert himself over the other. Now apply that to the whole of society."

"So what's the answer?" Megatron asked. "Accept our lot? Spend all your surface time getting tanked up on low grade ener-"

Rung's body crashed into their table, sending shattered glass and spilled energon everywhere. Impactor growled and the untimely interruption of his daily drinking binge and got out of his seat.

"Hey, if I didn't get drunk, I'd probably let juiced up cadets like that throw robots across rooms." He said, slowly marching towards the two cadets menacingly. "But seeing as I'm five quarts of energon in the wind, I think I'm gonna give them a quick lesson in manners."

"Impactor," Megatron warned, not liking the look on Impactor's face. "What are you going to do?"

"What I always do in these situations," Impactor's right hand changed into a titanium drill as he grinned. "Think with my fists."

XXXXXX

Megatron sat in a cell wondering if he should re-evaluate his choice in friends. His hands were still cuffed, of course. Normally prisoners had their stasis cuffs taken off upon entering their cells, but he was Megatron, so they weren't taking any chances. He supposed that it was dumb luck that he got the dirtiest cell with graffiti and oil stains.

The brawl Impactor started had taken a very wrong turn from the first nanosecond the punch from thrown. When Megatron tried to stop the fight, the second cadet attacked him from behind and he hit him back in response, backhanding him and knocking the poor bastard unconscious with one blow. Then Impactor tore off his fighting partner's legs and…here he was.

The door slid open and a blue mech with two wheels on his back walked in calmly, holding a datapd.

"Megaton, was it?" Springarm asked.

"Tron. Megatron."

"Right, as in 'electron', got it." Springarm nodded. "And it's Megatron of…"

"Tarn."

"Ah yes, the famous gladiator." Springarm said it in jest, not as uptight as some of the other cops were about the infamous prisoner. "Former manual laborer, creation date: 1st cycle 012. Serial number: 071-90. Hm, that's wired; no batch code. Were you forged or constructed cold?"

"How is that relevant?" Megatron sniffed. "I thought we'd moved beyond apartheid."

"It must be an old question, ignore it." He whistled. "This is your first offense, Megatron of Tarn. Pretty spotless record for a champion gladiator."

"You've not charged me with anything yet." Megatron pointed out. "I'm entitled to legal counsel and a communicube."

"Someone's dealing with all that. They'll be along shortly."

"Where's Impactor?" He asked.

"Your friend with the drill? He's at the DMF (Deletran Medical Facility)." Springarm answered. "He's in a bad way, but at least he can still walk. Unlike those cadets the two of you roughed up."

"I didn't-I mean, I wasn't," Megatron shook his head. He didn't think the damage was that severe. It was just a backhanded slap, nothing major from him. "Are they going to be alright?"

"Let's hope so," A one-eyed mech with a lanky blue body and three clawed hands entered the cell on raptor-like legs and helicopter blades on his back. "For your sake. Springarm, I'll take it from here."

XXXXXX

It was almost the end of Orion and Dion's patrol when they finally came upon some trouble near the shipyard. The two cops came upon a crowd gathered around something, but then they rang their emergency sirens, they quickly parted.

"Police," Orion transformed and approached the crowd. "What's the problem here? You're holding up traffic."

"Sorry officer, but there's a fight going on up ahead." A femme said.

Orion nodded at Dion and they drew their blasters, pushing past the crowd to see a purple mech beating up on another bot, a femme with purple and gold armor and short wings. They ran up to the mech and quickly brought him down, pushing him to the ground and restrained him.

"What the hell are you morons doing? This doesn't concern you!" The mech screamed. A good look at his face made Orion realize that he was a cop from the next district over. His name was Strax. "Screw off Pax!"

"Not while you're beating up on a civilian in full view of the public!" Orion growled and pulled Strax up. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Teaching this animal a lesson!" Strax spat hatefully at him. "It's creatures like her that caused this mess. Freaks who don't have a place in the GCT. I'm just showing her that people like her don't belong here! How things work around our city!"

Orion looked at the femme. Dion was helping her up, but she pushed him away. She only had a few dents and a cut on her cheek, but what got him was the hateful look she threw his way. He was an officer of the law sworn to protect people like her, but she hated him…feared him. That was not why he signed up for law enforcement, not so he could be seen as a thug. As she marched away, Orion scowled and slapped some cuff on Strax's wrists.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing Pax?" Strax said in surprise. Clearly he thought that he was going to get scott free for showing the "animal" her place.

"My job." Orion said. "Call the medical center and ask for Ratchet. Tell him that I called. He'll help her."

"Sure, Pax." Dion was smart enough not to question his partner when he had his "work" face on. He just hoped that Orion didn't get in trouble with the higher ups for this-Strax knew some people in high places, people who could make Orion's life very difficult. And Strax had no trouble reminding Orion about this.

"You can't do this to me! I'm an officer of the law!" Strax yelled, thrashing around. "I have connections, Pax! They'll have your job and your head!"

Orion heard enough of his rambling and slapped a suppressor on the back of his head to send him into stasis. His face was unreadable as he waited for the police carrier to arrive. He wasn't afraid of the upper castes, or even the senate. If they had a problem with him doing his job, what he was "born" to do, then they'd just have to come down to his level and say it to his face. At this point, he didn't care anymore. He was going to maintain order in this city, and no one was going to stop him.

But he had no idea of the events he just put in motion with this one decision.

XXXXXX

Megatron barely let out a grunt as he was punched in the face again by Whirl. He didn't wince as the sharp tips of the mech's clawed hands left thin cuts along his face. His expression was stone cold as he did nothing to temper or challenge his jailor's assault.

"I don't normally indulge in this sort of thing," Whirl said, sending another punch to Megatron's cranium, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hands from punching so hard. "But they're friends of mine, y'know? Those cadets you crippled?"

Whirl made sure to emphasize each word with a punch or kick to the gladiator's body. Megatron's form was covered in dents and scratches from previous blows, but his face had the most damage. And still he did nothing.

"I've noticed that you're yet to make a sound. I'm afraid I consider that something of a challenge." Whirl growled. "You've brought this on yourself, yeah? Remember that when my fist connects with your brain and you start hemorrhaging sparks. I'll say you slipped your bonds and attacked me, and I had no choice but to defend myself."

Megatron's face was still unreadable as Whirl continued to berate him, cloaking the rage he was feeling.

"And your death won't mean anything to anyone. Just another dead miner. Another wasted Spark who left no trace. Another nobody."

Whirl pulled his arm back for another punch, but Springarm grabbed his hand. "What in Primus's name are you doing, Whirl?"

"Turn around and walk away, Springarm." Whirl hissed. "You didn't see anything."

"He's being set free, captain's orders." Springarm said firmly and looked down at Megatron's battered form. "Jeez, Whirl, what have you done?"

Springarm was quick to report this incident and had Whirl detained for assault an unarmed prisoner unprovoked. He then escorted Megatron from the cell area to the lobby, where the captain of the Kaon police force, Zeta of Sistex, was sitting at her desk. According to Springarm, she acted on a hunch and called the bartender, who said that Megatron stayed out of the fight mostly, and didn't start anything.

Zeta was large for a femme, with a strong, armore body that was a bright bluish white with upward curving horns on the side of her head. She was reading a datapad, his datapad, with vested interest in what she read.

"Here he is ma'am." Springarm said. "A bit roughened up but still functional."

"Ah," Zeta looked Megatron up and down. "You must be Megaton."

"It's Megatron, ma'am. T-R-O-N."

"Oh, as in "electronic"." She nodded. "This is yours. I couldn't help reading it, I hope you don't mind." She held up his datapad. "I got to the bit about using pacifistic rhetoric to facilitate political reform and I thought, this doesn't sound like the kind of mech who'd rip the legs off two cadets and feed them into a trash compactor. I don't agree with everything you've written, but at least you're articulating your concerns. At least you're doing something. Keep it up."

Having said her piece, Zeta uncuffed Megatron and had Sprinarm escort him out the station. Once they were outside, Megatron said something for the first time since the incident.

"It's not electronic."

"Excuse me?"

"My name. The "tron" is from neutron-as in bomb." Megatron explained curtly.

Springarm looked at him strangely, wondering if Whirl knocked a circuit loose during his beating. "Right, okay. Well, enjoy the rest of your life citizen."

Springarm handed Megatron his datapad and walked away, leaving Megatron standing in front of the police station. He looked around and saw how the people, not gladiators or despots, but regular citizens, looked at him like he didn't belong there. It was midday, but the courtyard was almost empty, which he realized was due to everyone giving him space. Like he had the rust plague.

This realization infuriated Megatron. People he bled for, preached to stand up and make a stand, treating him like he was some outcast who didn't spend every waking moment of his life ensuring that they could live lives that were free and without oppressing and segregation. Like they didn't care that he risked everything to make their live better. So this was how they would treat a hero who was honest and true?

Megatron looked down at his datapad and saw his reflection scowling at him. With a sneer, he threw the device away, sending it crashing into a neon signpost and shattering it in a rain of sparks. Without a second thought, Megatron marched away, dark thoughts on his mind as the sky above grew cloudy.

XXXXXX

Orion sat at his desk at police HQ watching the (Iaconian Newsfeed Service) on his desk monitor. Surprisingly, the entire station, save for a few bots down on the lower level, was empty. Most of the cops were on patrol and Quickshadow was off on a joint mission with another police department to coordinate a larger array of crime prevention. With nothing to do the young mech spent his stormy evening watching the news updates on the Nova Plaza bombing.

"This is the Iaconian Newsfeed Service bringing you coverage of this morning's terrorist attack on the Primal Procession. Nominus Prime's fate remains unknown after a member of the 20,000 strong crowd there a bomb at the Matrix bearer. Reporting from Nova Plaza is Blaster. What's it like down there, Blaster?

The camera switched to the bright red form of Blaster, who was standing near the rubble of what used to be Nova Plaza. The fires from ruptured gas pipelines were still active, and relief workers and paramedics were digging through the rubble for any survivors-or bodies.

"In a word: chaos. The death toll has already reached double figures, ad medics are still pulling bodies from the wreckage." He reported. "And while we wait for an update on Nominus Prime's condition the senate has denied rumors that the suicide bomber released Corrida Gravis or some other rusting agent into the air. No one has come forward, although the fact that the bomber switched to alt mode suggests that it is not the work of Triple M. however it may be that-"

"Sorry to cut you off, Blaster, but we're receiving reports that the Matrix Flame is flickering. It's-wait a moment," He listened to the rush of new information coming on air. "It's flickering, but it has not, I repeat, it has not gone out, which would suggest that Nominus Prime is still alive, albeit seriously injured. And now, while we await an official statement from Senator Proteus, and update on the electrical storm that's about to hit the Tri-Peninsular Torus States-bzzzzzz…"

The video went into static as lightning flashed outside. Orion sighed and leaned back in his chair when a smarmy voice cut the silence.

"Bad reception? It's the electrical storm." A tall, brawny, black and green mech strolled into the building with two other bots behind him. "And something tells me things are gonna get a whole lot worse."

He walked up to Pax's desk and looked around, trying to do some small talk before strong arming Orion into doing something for them. Orion wasn't stupid, he knew these guys were thugs (painfully unsubtle ones at that). Primus knows that they had the negotiating skills of Thunderhooves.

"I like what you've done with the place. And that trophy cabinet-very impressive." The mech said conversationally. "I heard your captain's predecessor used to go hunting for primitives. He had a-what are those organic things called, those bipeds…you know with the hair and the opposable thumbs? From the Nebula Cluster. Nebulans? Yeah. He had a Nebulan stuffed and mounted on the wall."

"Can I help you?" Orion finally asked. It was like listening to a druggy do math equations.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you can Orion Pax." The thug said. "Can I call you that?"

"You can call me officer. Or better, you can tell me why you're here." Orion replied. He was not in the mood for games right now.

The thug looked a bit put off by Orion's attitude. He wasn't used to people mouthing off to him or his group. "We're looking for a friend of ours. Name is Shax. He works here."

"Woeked. He's in custody at the moment awaiting trial."

"You're right of course. Terrible business, beating up a civilian. Can't have that can we?" He nodded.

Orion crossed his arms. "Glad we see eye to eye."

"But I think you've made your point now, don't you? I think he's learned his lesson. I think it's time we all moved on."

"I'll tell you what I think," Orion replied. "I think it's time you left."

"He's a popular bot, Strax. Makes friends from all walks of life. From those at the bottom to the top. The very top." The thug was making sure Orion got the message clearly and hoped it would intimidate the mech into releasing their "friend". He was going to be very disappointed. "Him getting arrested, well. It would cause certain bots a degree of embarrassment."

"I don't care if he shares a branched Spark with Senator Proteus himself," Orion stood up and got into the thug's face, ensuring that his threats weren't going to work on him. "He broke the law."

To his credit, the thug didn't lose his temper and cause a scene, though Orion could tell that his patience was waning. "First command post, yeah? They say you're making quite the name for yourself. 'He's turning the dead end around', they say. Trouble is, the more you build something up, the more it hurts when it all comes crashing down."

"Are we done?" Pax asked. "Because I have work to do."

Seeing that using his typical methods of persuasion wasn't working, the thug frowned and motioned his flunkies to back off.

"You've lived up to your reputation officer," He said as he walked towards the doors. "Shame."

Orion didn't let down his guard until they were gone and off the premises. He slumped in his seat, head in his hands, and rage building up within him. So that's how it was? Try to do a little justice and the senate tramples over it just to avoid bad press. Had anyone else been here, they would've crumbled and released Strax, a bot who assaulted a civilian in the middle of a public road. At a time when the people's faith in the authorities were already at a standstill.

'No, in their eyes, he was doing his job.' Orion thought, remembering Strax's comments about showing the "animal" her place. 'Reminding people of the status quo.'

The black and white form of Quickshadow entered the building, shaking off water from her form. "Thanks for covering for me. Sorry I took so long." She said as she got closer. Then she noticed his aggravated expression and tense form. "Are you alright, Pax?"

"…No, I'm not alright."

XXXXXX

Elmeth watched from the doorway as Megatron entered their abode, and began tearing the place apart. She came in not too long after he did, worried upon getting the news of his arrest and his damaged form, and followed him as he stomped into their quarters. She barely had one foot through the door before the screaming started.

Megatron let out a rage filled roar and began flipping tables, shattering glasses and, to her dismay, destroying the datapads he wrote his essays on. The look of pure rage on his face stopped her from interfering and she only watched from afar as he vented the rage that was building up in him all day long. Thankfully, he had tired himself out and fell to his knees, the crunching sound of datapads being smashed under his weight filling the now silent room. Elmeth figured it was safe for her to come in and she tried talking to him.

"Megatron?" She said. "Are you alright?"

"…I tried Elmeth." Megatron whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I risked everything, my life, my fame, you, to make things better for the people of this planet. To show everyone that we didn't have to take being treated like objects with a single purpose in life. But despite everything I do for them, they look at me like I'm the one doing the wrong thing, like I'm the monster!" Megatron slammed his fist into the floor. "I do all this for them and this is how they repay me!?"

"Megatron," Elmeth walked over to him, her clawed feet lightly stepping on the pieces of glass and knelt down to his level. "You know that they don't know any better. The assassination attempt on Nominus Prime has everyone spooked, and the senate's propaganda speeches are throwing everyone for a loop. Some people need time to accept how things are going now."

"No, they'd rather be under the thumb of the senate and functionists alike," Megatron growled. "Those fools would rather be slaves treated like living tools than live free and independent!"

Elmeth leaned back as Megatron stood up, hands clenched so hard that his joints groaned from the stress. His eyes blazed like an inferno, and his expression was etched in an angered scowl reminiscent of some old statues of Galvatron. He trembled with anger at everything, the bombings, the people's disregard of him and his writings, Whirl's insults.

So the people didn't care if he or others like him died then? That's fine, because he planned to make them care. He will make them notice the lie they're living. Make them notice the farce they called peace, the dream they called reality. Megatron vowed to bring all of Cybertron into a new age of freedom and individuality-and he didn't care if they wanted it or not.

XXXXXX

Dion noticed a change in his friend. Lately, the usually quiet and dutiful officer was off on patrols rounding up everyone from small time crooks to wanted fugitives hiding in Iacon and Rodion. Before he carried his duties like everyone else-knowing that every day was the same song and dance-but now, he acted like Cybertron's future was at stake. He was on a roll, and his vigor was starting to catch on to the rest of the department, which was something they needed because things in Iacon were far from being settled anytime soon.

The city was still in a state of lockdown, and the senate was still trying to find out who orchestrated the attack. There were rumors saying that they were planning on putting Iacon, possibly the entire planet, under a state of martial law. It might not be true, but with so many acts of terrorism in such a short amount of time, it was the most likely option.

"I'm going out, Dion." Orion said as he passed his desk.

"Off to round up more bad guys?"

"Its' just something I need to get out of my system."

"Huh, when did it get into your system?" Dion asked, chuckling. "I mean, you're really going for it today."

Orion looked at his good friend, thinking for a moment. Then he asked, "Remember what Megatron often preached in the arena?"

"What do you mean?"

"He said that the senate was institutionally corrupt. It was in all his writings. He had three questions he wanted to put to them if he ever had the chance and the more I think about it…"

Dion could see how uneasy Orion was, and it in turn made him nervous. "You alright, Pax?"

"While you were on patrol, I was paid a visit by some rather unsavory characters." He told Dion. "Part of the security detail, judging from their design. Sentinel's men."

Sentienl was the head of Iacon's state militia, a hard as nails mech who was tasked with defending Iacon from external or internal threats, but mainly acted as the senate's bodyguard. He was also known for his general distrust of the "abnormal" functionists and believed that they made the GCT into some kind of religious cult that sought to override the senate's authority. Obviously he didn't say those words out loud, but almost everyone knew of it.

"So you think Megatron's right?"

"That's just it," Orion shrugged. "I mean, a corrupt senate? I can't countenance that. I just can't"

Dion got up and patted his friend on the shoulder. "This is going to sound stupid, but when I'm feeling-what's the word? Disquieted? Is that a word? Yeah, when I feel disquieted, I try to channel the wisdom of the Matrix. It helps me find peace."

"I'm, er… not religious. Primus, Mortilus, Adaptus, all that stuff." He shook his head. "I remain to be convinced."

"You believe in the Matrix, surely?"

"Of course, but as far as I'm concerned-and I say this with the greatest respect- it's just a bauble. A powerful symbol, absolutely. But nothing more than that."

"Now I feel embarrassed." Dion laughed. "The primal prophecies, the Underbase- you probably think they were all made up by the Thirteen Primes."

"I'm not even sure I believe in the Thirteen." Orion remarked. He shrugged and walked to the doors. "Thank you, Dion. Sincerely. But I think I'll work through my disquiet in a more hands on approach."

XXXXXX

It was only a few minutes after another arena match won by Megatron. The crowd had been galvanized by the slaughter of another warrior who was little more than an annoyance to him. But unlike his past matches, he did not exit the arena. Instead he stood upon the bodies of his opponent, asking the audience to hear his words.

"Hear me, fell citizens of Tarn." He said, using his powerful voice to drown out the others. "I'm sure you've all heard of my recent incarceration at the hands of Kaon's police force, and rest assured, no charges were made against me. Though I cannot say the same for my friend."

'Where is he going with this?' Elmeth thought.

"While I was imprisoned in a cell, I've made a serious discovery. It would seem that there are some bots who think that we of the manual and labor castes are nothing to them. That we are not worth the Spark of life and that no will miss us when we died." Megatron paused to gauge the reactions of the spectators and was pleased to see that they were outraged by this. Good. "But I am not bothered by these words, for I know that we are more than just tools of trade to be discarded. We are Cybertronians. And are not all Cybertronians made of the same materials? My alloys are the same of those in the frame of a senator; my lubricants are the same as those that lubricated the joints of the Thirteen themselves!"

Elmeth looked up and down the row of the stands, the bots who were of the same caste as Megatron. People who risked their lives to keep Cybertron spinning, and yet they were seen as cannon fodder. Once again, Megatron spoke directly to the burning rage festering within them.

"We are individuals; once we were free, and we will be again!" Megatron bellowed. "The senate, if they heard this, would quietly render me into slag. But I tell you this, even if they kill me, my words remain immortal. Death cannot dampen my ambitions, and neither shall it hinder yours! We have been deceive, but no longer!"

Megatron raised his sword, stained with energon and spoke to the crowd to all of Tarn, in a thunderous voice. "It begins here. You who take your pleasure from our suffering, and turn our work into your leisure…you have forgotten what it means to be Cybertronian. Once this was the greatest planet in the galaxy. Now we have fallen. But we rise again, because there are yet Cybertronians who can envision the restoration of our former glory. My namesake was dubbed the Fallen because of his fall from grace, his refusal to bow before anyone. Only by knowing how far we have fallen will we understand what it is to rise again. Cybertron!"

"CYBERTRON!" Roared the spectators and the other gladiators in unison.

Elmeth had seen everyone stand up and salute to their homeworld, acknowledging their status as children of Cybertron, equal and unbound. She couldn't help but do the same; the atmosphere was infectious and she was glad to see Megatron taking charge of the movement he inspired.

But she had no idea that this was the beginning of his descent, and that his words would spark a wave of chaos across Cybertron. And that she could be the catalyst.

XXXXXX

Orion knew something was wrong when he saw that the lights at HQ were off. When he got closer, he saw that there was a body lying on the steps, one of the cadets, Wheelarch.

"Dead." Orion noted, seeing the hole burned into Wheelarch's chest. He took out his gun and ran into the station.

Orion was horrified at what he discovered. The entire station looked like a warzone, with holes blasted into the walls, windows shattered and dead officers on the floor, and not all of them were in one piece. Only a handful of cadets were still here when he left, and they stood no chance against whatever hit them here. To make things worse, he found Dion's severed head sitting I his trophy case, with his body lying on the floor .

His anger rising, Orion ran into the prison block, finding the guards posted there also dead, and saw the thugs from earlier letting Strax out of his cell. Orion pointed his blaster at them.

"NOBODY MOVE!"

Thug-1 smiled at Orion. "Well, look who it is. We were afraid we'd miss you officer."

"P-Pax please," Strax stammered. "This wasn't my idea…"

"Shut up! You're a liar, you're all liars." Orion growled. Then he realized something. "Wait, there were three of you."

A blaster bolt caught him in the back and knocked him forward. He pulled the trigger and released a blaster that took out Strax's knee. A foot stomped on his hand and Thug-2 put a gun to his head.

"I'm gonna enjoy getting you, Pax!" He growled. Orion kicked him in the face and got to his feet, running over to his desk.

He ran over to his trophy case and snatched up one of the trophies, it was one he got for his outstanding performance at the police academy, the one that looked like a gun. He tore it off the plaque and pointed it at the thugs.

"Good night." He pulled the trigger-and nothing happened. "Damn!"

He ducked under his desk to avoid the wall of blaster fire that came at him. He saw Dion's body next to his feet, but forced himself to remain hidden.

"I have one thing to ask you officer," Thug-1 laughed. "All those trophies, all those commendations, all those awards…what use are they to you now?"

He got his answer when Orion threw his badges like ninja stars with great accuracy. The badges sharp edges stabbed into their armor and faces, giving Orion enough time to drag Dion's body into the storage closet with him. One inside, he shut the door and cursed his luck.

"Nice work, Pax." He muttered. "Stuck in a room so small you can't transform and your weapons are a pair of decorative arm cannons." He looked at the headless body of his partner. "I'm sorry, Dion. You deserved so much better than to die like this."

"Come on out and face us! At least your colleagues had the guts to face us head on!" He heard the thug yell outside.

Orion knew he had few options. If he went out there now, he was dead, and waiting here any longer was suicide as well. He eyed Dion's corpse and felt along the body's lower abdomen, where his T-cog would be. Despite dying, the organ was still warm, which meant his transformation ability could be used one last time.

"if you're up there, Dion. I hope you can forgive what I'm about to dot to you."

Outside, Thug-1 was about to order his men to start shooting up the place, when he heard something strange. "What is that?"

"Is that guy…growling at us?" Thug-2 asked.

"No, it sounds more like an engine." Thug-3 said.

Orion suddenly burst out of the storeroom riding Dion's alt mode, a motorcycle. He took them by surprise, slamming the back wheel into Thug-3's face and crashing the dead bot into Thug-2 hard enough to knock him through a window. Orion jumped off his macabre ride and slammed his knee into Thug-1's chin.

"You have the right to deactivate your vocal circuits," He punched the thug in the face. "Anything you cay will be recorded and replayed in the court of law," Another punch to the chest. "You have the right to a Xaaron-approved defense attorney," He slammed his fist into the thug's face one last time before letting him crumple to the ground.

"Do you understand the rights as they have been read to you?" Orion asked. The thug couldn't answer. "Oh well. I tried."

He saw something in the fallen mech's visor and spun around just as Thug-3 tried to stab him with a piece of shrapnel. Orion took a shard of glass and jammed it into the thug's mouth, stabbing it right up into his brain case. Orion kicked the bot away and searched the room for Strax. He was gone.

He followed the trail of bleeding energon outside and saw Strax dragging his body down the steps, with energon leaking from his leg. Orion didn't even try to run after him.

"You really should stop now, Strax," He said. "It's embarrassing."

"I didn't ask them to rescue me." Strax grunted. Orion walked over to him and kicked him onto his back so the wounded bot could see the rage in his eyes.

"That wasn't a rescue," Orion growled. "That was a slaughter."

"Touch me and they'll hunt you down. That isn't a threat, that's a warning." Strax told him. "The senate has eyes everywhere. Cross them and they'll tear your world apart. Trust me, I've seen it happen. You have the right to walk away. Anything you say will be used to destroy you. I ask you, Orion Pax, what are you going to do?"

Orion stared at Strax long and hard, his blue eyes glowing in the heavy storm going on around them. Then he said, "What I should've done a long time ago."

XXXXXX

Sentinel of Nova Cronum stood patiently as he watched the senators of the Cybertronian government debate on their next course of action in response to Nominus Prime's attempted assassination. He hated having to stand around watching a bunch of pompous aristocrats bitch and whine about something they were obviously going to do before this whole thing started, and were only now acting on it because they were running scared. But it was his duty as head of the militia to make sure that they were well protected. Proteus promised him that he'd get what he wanted soon, but if the choice were left up to him, he'd round up every malformed beastformer and useless bot and shoot them on the spot. This planet belonged to those who could actually contribute something to society.

The Degagon's interior, where the senate had their meetings, was a rather brilliant, if not a bit ostentatious, chamber that looked massive on the inside. The senators all sat in a circle formation as they discussed important matters regarding Cybertron under the ever watchful statues of Nova Prime.

"We will not sit by while terrorists try to undermine our way of life. The attack on Nominus Prime will not go unpunished!"

"We can't wage war against thin air, senator Decimus." Senator Halogen said patiently. Sentinel considered him to be one of the few old gears here who acted like a politician and not a worthless, whiny upper caste mech that threw their money around. "We still don't know who is behind the attack."

"Our head of security is weeding out the culprits," Said Proteus, Iacon's ruling senator. "In the meantime, we must protect the populace by clamping down."

Sentinel smirked as Proteus finally got to the meat of the discussion. A soldier tapped his arm to gain his attention. "What?"

"Sorry to disturb you, Sentinel, but we have a perimeter breech." The soldier said. "Someone wanted to address the senate and wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Arrest him and be done with it," Sentinel waved him off. "I'm trying to watch senator Proteus make a speech that'll change everything."

"We'll restrict passage across our orbital borders. We will round up the agitators, and the dissidents." Proteus continued, making sure his voice could be heard across the entire atrium. "We'll detain anyone without a valid serial code. Curfews, containment, capital punishment-whatever it takes!"

The soldier was back this time, looking a bit more frazzled than before. "Sir, I've been told that our "visitor" has just taken apart a full squadron and he's heading this way."

Sentinel growled. "Scramble all units. Put him down now."

The meeting continued without pause as most of the senate began to agree with the idea of a worldwide "clampdown".

"Senator Proteus is right. And if the Clampdown means that the general populace must forgo some of their freedoms, well, it is but a small price to pay for their safety." Decimus said. "And remember: we also have an opportunity to shut down those organizations who have been hostile towards us in the past. Triple M, the Cyberutopians, the Malware Brigade…they should all be locked up."

The soldier was back once again, and this time looking like someone threw him out a window-which is exactly what happened to him.

"What now?" Sentinel growled.

"Well, sir, I'm afraid that-"

"That he's dead? Please tell me he's dead."

"He is…not dead. He's here."

All chatter in the atrium stopped as Orion, looking like he fought through a warzone after fighting nearly the entire security force. But here he stood, strong and tall despite his wounds, with Strax's body slung over his shoulder like a sack of scrap. Sentinel saw Proteus clench his fist at the sight, and hummed. Looks like Rodion's supercop put more than just a few dents in Proteus's men.

"Esteemed members of the 113th Cybertronian senate," Orion said loud and clear. "I want a word with you."

Sentinel had to admire this mech's bearings, and was willing to see where this guy was going with all the noise he was causing. "Everyone hold your fire. I want to see how this plays how." He muttered over the comms.

"You dare interrupt a senate in private session?" Decimus shouted.

"Evidently." Orion replied and tossed Strax to the floor. "This is Strax. He broke the law. Associates of yours wanted me to overlook tat. I didn't. And many good officers died as a result. I want you to look at him and realize that even the smallest actions have consequences."

Murmurs filled the atrium at this news and many of the senators were enraged at his sheer audacity. Even still, Orion continued to say his piece. "You sit in session, detached from the world, giving orders designed to keep the rest of us in check. And if anyone steps out of line, if anyone thinks a rogue thought you tighten the screws. And I didn't even realize this until I met a miner from Tarn. A friend who had so much to say that he couldn't find the words. A miner by design, but not by choice, he wanted the freedom to choose his own fate, not have it decided for him by a ruling elite who presumed to know best. And only now do I recognize the limits that you put on our freedom, and you do it because you are terrified of anything you can't control.

"They have a name for us, you now. Other races, looking down on us, mapping our progress. They call us Autobots. I've often wondered about that name, and now I realize that "Auto" comes from "Automaton", one who leads a routine, monotonous life. And that's all we are to you, isn't it? Automatons. Our lives ever more circumscribed from birth to death, ignition to burnout. It doesn't have to be like this! All of us, we could be so much more! Autobots. Autonomous. Free-thinking! Masters of our own destiny!"

Orion pointed a finger at the senators, his voice becoming more passionate. "So as of today, as of right now, I am laying claim to that name. Henceforth, I am an Autobot. And it is Autobots like me who will outlive institutions like this one, unless you mend your ways."

"Sentinel? Remove him." Decimus growled. Sentinel smirked as he ordered his men to take the intruder away. Looks like the big, bad senator doesn't like having his flaws laid out to him by a cop.

Two security bots took hold of Orion's arms and started dragging him out of atrium. But still, he kept on talking.

"My friend's name is Megatron and he had three questions! Three things he said you should demand to know of any powerful institution!" He roared. "Question one: In whose interests do you exercise your power? Question two: To whom are you-just let me finish-to whom are you accountable? And three! HOW CAN WE GET RID OF YOU?!"

"I didn't catch his name." Decimus said. Sentinel shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. You won't be seeing him soon."

XXXXXX

Orion was dumped into a cell and was left there for the rest of the day. He saw there, in that cramped, empty space for one night into the next morning. He meant what he said; he was an Autobot, one who was an independent being free of the restrictions placed on him for things he had no control over. He had no idea if they would leave him to rust here, or dismantle him out of spite. Maximum security imprisonment was for the bots who really got on their nerves and posed a threat-like Megatron. He didn't care. He said his piece, and he hoped that people knew just how backwards this government was.

Then, to his astonishment, he was set free at high noon the next day. Someone had conditioned his release and even allowed him to get repaired by some high quality doctors. When he left the Decagon, a messenger drone told him to meet someone at the Proudstar memorial. Against his better judgment, and not one to be rude to his benefactor, Orion decided to meet with this mysterious savior.

Which led to him sitting at the memorial on his usual spot, just staring at the golden statue of the legendary ship. Next to him sat a wealthy looking mech, clearly of upper caste construction. He didn't want to use his name for security reasons, so he introduced his alias, Quake. They didn't pay each other any attention, but it was merely for show.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me." Quake said.

"It's the least I could do." Orion replied. "I gather I owe you my freedom."

"It wasn't easy. But I couldn't see a Cybertronian of your caliber get locked up in Garrus-1 or worse-sent to the Institute."

Orion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "You're a senator, aren't you? You were in the crowd when I…held forth. Why did you save me, after my diatribe?"

"Because you were right. And because you were wrong." Quake answered. "The senate is worse than you've been led to believe. The attack on Nominus Prime was orchestrated by a faction within the senate. Not that I can prove it-yet."

Orion was expecting some surprising revelation, but he wasn't expecting something like that. "If that's true, why would they do that?"

"So they'd have an excuse to move Nominus Prime into hiding. So they'd have unfettered access to the Matrix. So they could find out how it creates life."

"The Matrix can create life?" Orion exclaimed.

"The Knights of Cybertron called it the Creation Matrix. If certain members of the senate can control the Matrix, they can control anything." Quake explained, his expression tense. "With natural hot spots at an all time low, they could control Cybertron's future." He looked at Orion with a grim, serious look. "There's a war coming, Orion. A war that will split this world in two. Battle lines are being drawn. Sides are being taken. It's just a matter of time."

"And what's my role in all of this? What do I do?" Orion asked. Quake smiled faintly and looked at the golden replica of Nova Prime's vessel.

"You ask what your role is in all of this," He replied wistfully. "Look inside yourself and you might find the answer."