Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait! Enjoy!
"Oh good," Ratchet states dryly, optics bouncing from Orion to Ravage and back again. "I was hoping the two of you would be fighting by the time you got here."
Orion places the emergence day gifts that he bought for the surly medic from his subspace and onto the kitchen table just a few feet away from where Ratchet was leaning against the dividing counter separating the living room area and the kitchen of the small hab space. Ratchet has his arms crossed over his chassis as he looks from creation to pseudo-sire with a raised optic ridge. Ravage moves over to the couch, jumping up and sitting, he returns Ratchet's gaze with a level one of his own, debating on how he wanted to proceed with this conversation. He flicks his tail and slow blinks at the medic.
"Orion is upset that I will not allow him to go gallivanting Cybertron on a misguided quest to see the world and its cultures," Ravage says simply, looking through half lidded optics at the two bi-pedal transformers as they make their way into the living space at the back of Ratchet's little clinic in Dead End.
Orion sits on the couch next to his sire, optics narrowed. "I am upset because you are being unreasonable." He turns to look at his sire. "This has nothing to do with any 'gallivanting'. I am an adult. You can't just forbid me from going where I wish."
Ravage bares his fangs. "Try me."
"You do not scare me, sire," Orion says firmly. "I can't be intimidated by you. I know you would never hurt me. And because you love me, I know that you will understand when I tell you that I am going back."
"Over my cold, grayed out frame," Ravage growls. Orion flinches, turning away at that. Ravage settles, sighing. His field brushes comforting against the plates of the red and blue bot. "I am sorry, Orion. I shouldn't have said it like that."
"You shouldn't have said it at all," Orion murmurs, rubbing at his faceplates. "Please... I just..." he sighs. "This was supposed to be a fun visit to celebrate Ratchet, not make it into a giant argument for us to have for a whole chord. I didn't come to fight with you, Ravage."
Ravage narrows his optics as Ratchet lowers himself into the worn armchair to Orion's right, shifting to the side a bit as if to avoid catching any strays. He leans on the knuckles of one servo, optics ping-ponging back and forth between the sire and creation. "Nor I to you, Orion," Ravage says through a sigh of his vents. "But you are meddling in affairs you know nothing about. This revolutionary is going to get you deactivated. Are you that interested in joining your carrier so soon?"
Orion flinches again, but this time Ravage doesn't apologize. Ratchet's optics shutter slowly, but he doesn't otherwise react, not seeing it as his place.
"I promised your carrier I would always protect you, Orion," Ravage continues after a long silence. "I understand and sympathize with the plight of the bots downtrodden and destitute, but that isn't your problem. Your carrier and I worked very hard to give you everything you could want in life. To protect you from the harshness of the world. You're willing to throw it all away?"
Orion frowns at him. "I'm not throwing anything away, Ravage. Certainly nothing my carrier has provided for me," Orion says quietly, hurt. "I'm living my life. I am still doing my job, still speaking to my friends, and I'm experiencing all the wonderful things that the world can show me - at least, in Kaon."
"Yes," Ravage says, coyly. "Yes, with the gladiator." He goes from sitting to down all the way to his hunches, watching Orion's expression closely. "I notice that he spends an awful lot of time over at your hab after arena battles."
Ratchet lets out a long vent, rubbing at his forehelm, looking between the sire and creation. "Not just a friend, then?"
"No," Orion admits, staring at his sire for a long moment, before looking over at Ratchet. "I wanted to talk to you in person about it. It seems too impersonal over comm. To talk about something - or in this case, someone - so near and dear to me."
"So now he is near and dear to you," Ravage snipes, lip curling.
"Yes, he is," Orion says, sighing as well. Not now, he decides. He's not going to tell his sire about his plan to bond with Megatronus just yet. Obviously, his sire is too upset to really be willingly thoughtful about this. And Orion was already tired from the orn he's had and fighting with Ravage has always exhausted him. His sire has always been strict, stern almost to a fault, and only Orion's carrier seemed to make him acquiesce with any sort of ease. Whatever it was that his carrier did to compel his sire to be more flexible, Orion simply hasn't learned the method yet.
"You barely know him," Ravage groans, rolling bright red eyes.
"And yet, that changes nothing," Orion says firmly. Ravage stares at him with bright red optics, considering something. "I understand your concern, sire," Orion says quietly. "But I can't ignore this. My carrier always expressed the importance of Cybertron's true strength. And that is in all of us as one. Functioning together, pushing together towards one unified front. I thought Functionalism worked, and perhaps it did once upon a time, but if it doesn't anymore... then we have to do something about it." He feels like Megatronus, using some of his own words to make his point.
"What this mech intends will get you deactivated, Orion," Ravage says, voice even. His tail lashes behind him, belying his unease at this. Ratchet looks between them quietly.
"I know that it's dangerous," Orion admits. "But I can't do nothing. I don't even know what to do now, but... but support him. Because you're right, sire. You and carrier did everything you could to make my life good! And it has been more than that. I am proud to be your creation. And that's why I know I have to do something. Anything. It's not right for me to ignore it. I have to do something." Teletraan, who has been quiet this whole time, silently brushes against Orion's processor in acknowledgement, or maybe in agreement.
This looks flitters over Ravage's face, as he studies Orion. After a long, drawn-out silence, he finally murmurs, "You remind me so much of him." He sighs, seemingly sinking into himself. "Every orn you become more and more like him."
For the first time this since the fight began with his sire, Orion smiles. He reaches down, gripping his sire's hand to hold it, not minding the claws. "Thank you for saying that, sire. I know that you're only intending the best. I know that you're worried about me. I will do my best to stay safe, but I have to live. I... I know that my carrier wouldn't be able to sit by and let this go either. I suppose..." Orion feels his throat tighten, emotion choking him up a bit. "I suppose even after all these vorn, I'm still trying to live by his example."
Ravage sighs, claws curling a bit around Orion's hand. "Oh, Prima. He never could just sit by. I suppose there are worst traits you could have picked up on from us. Although your choice in berth partners leaves much to be desired."
Orion snorts, rolling his optics but is more than willing to accept the olive branch. He swallows back the emotion but catches Ratchet's faint smile in his peripheral. "You will like him, Ravage. I know it."
"Dream big, itty bitty," Ravage grumbles. Rachet huffs, amused, while Orion rolls his own optics.
Orion and Ravage share the pull-out couch after forcing Ratchet to keep his own berth for their stay. After he went to recharge, Orion quietly talked to his sire about his stay in Kaon. Judging by his earlier statements about Megatronus, it was safe for him to assume that Ravage had a pretty solid idea of what was going on in Kaon. He certainly wasn't going to get into the nitty gritty of his interface life with his sire, but he could talk about the rest. He talked about the sights there, some of the people that he met, how he enjoys working remote and walking around the city.
In the darkness of the night cycle, Orion looked over at his sire, who was curled up with his helm resting on Orion's shoulder, and asks, "Do you think carrier would have liked to travel Cybertron? I mean, I know he didn't get to because he was young when he had me and he was taking care of Breeze in her waning vorn, but I remember he used to have these postcards from penpals all over. Tarn and Praxus and Polyhex."
Dim red optics flicker a bit as Ravage sighs softly. "Honestly? Yes, Orion. I think he would have. Losing Breeze and having you stalled any plans of that, but he would have eventually. Of that I have no doubt. And he would have taken you with him. He would have wanted you both to see it together."
Orion smiles despite the pain in his chassis at the thought. "I would have loved it."
"Me too," Ravage admits quietly in the dark night cycle. Another sigh, then, "I know that I am overprotective, Orion. I recognize it. But you are all I have left of him. You are my family. My itty bitty. I will always try to do what I think is best but sometimes I forget that you aren't so little anymore. You have to live your life, I understand, but... I will try to be more understanding but..." Another sigh. "I don't want you to do this. I don't want you to get involved in any of this revolutionary business. It's dangerous. Very dangerous. You're talking about going up against the Senate. Against the Prime. Against everything that Cybertron stands for."
"No," Teletraan whispers into Orion's processor. "Your vision is what Cybertron stands for."
Orion rubs at his face plates. "It's wrong," Orion says after a protracted silence. "Bots shouldn't be treated as badly as they are."
"Bots will always be treated badly, Orion," Ravage states firmly. "That is the natural order in society. What this gladiator hopes for is a pipedream. There will always be selfish, greedy bots in the world that would much rather stomp on the weak so that they feel strong. And they will always be the ones either climbing to the top or are already there. That is the way of things. We, as Cybertronians, are not special in that manner. We are just as selfish and as greedy and as inconsiderate as every other species out there. We bots like to imagine that we're better than others, like organics, but at the end of the orn, we are the same."
"We don't have to perpetuate it," Orion says softly. He's tired both from the last few orn and from the conversation. His sire is not easy to persuade. Of anything. Old felinoid is stuck in his ways. "Is it wrong to want to try and make Cybertron a better place to live?"
"No," Ravage says, evenly, his optics flickering off. "But I won't play games with your life. I want you to live a long and happy life, Orion. I know you want to help because you inherited your carrier's spark, but it isn't your problem to deal with."
Teletraan bristles in disagreement but doesn't speak. Orion waits a beat before returning his attention to his sire, "But it is, Ravage. If the overall quality of life for our people is bad, then it's everyone's problem."
Another sigh as Ravage nuzzles his cheek a bit before resting against his shoulder once more. "Your spark is beautiful, itty bitty, but I'll tell you the same thing I told your carrier, and that is that I will be hard pressed to find anything that I will ever put above you. You're my family. You're my life. I will choose you one-hundred out of one-hundred times. You were the only thing that made me start to question decisions. But even then, rarely would I ever have to choose between the two of you."
"Only once as far as I know," Orion murmurs softly, an old pain in his spark flaring up.
Ravage is quiet for a long time. So long that Orion started to wonder if his sire simply fell into recharge, but he's startled by the soft, "Yes. There... was at least one time. But I don't wish to speak on this any longer, Orion. Rest your optics."
Orion couldn't agree more. "Goodnight cycle, Ravage."
"Peaceful recharge, Orion."
After morning meal that ended with Ravage, still annoyed at Orion's insistence on returning to Kaon, he heads out to do... whatever it is that Ravage does with his time. Orion spent the orn running errands for Ratchet. He got them a midday meal. He went to the store to pick up all sorts of things he could need so that he didn't have to later. But he also ran inventory for Ratchet's stock for him, medicine and supplies, so that he would know what he needs the next time he goes out. It was normal for them. Because Ratchet doesn't necessarily have a day off, Orion would come over at least once a chord to run some errands for him. After everything that Ratchet had ever done for him, this was one of the very few things that he could do to help tip the balance, even if only a little bit.
Ravage found Orion on his way back to Ratchet's clinic, opening his mouth to take one of the bags that he was holding. Orion appreciates walking through the familiar streets of Iacon - the same streets that he's walked his entire life. Admittedly, it was nice to be here again. Orion missed his home. He was growing to really enjoy his time in Kaon, but Iacon will always hold a special place in his spark. He doesn't say it, knowing his sire will simply insist that they return home, and he never leave it again, but there's no way that Ravage can't feel the joy fluttering in Orion's fields as he looks around, taking it all in again.
"What are your plans tomorrow?" Ravage asks once they make it back to the lonely little clinic in Dead End. The pair sneak in when they hear Ratchet growling at one of his patients about being a "slag-head with a death wish" in the clinic side of the building to avoid disturbing him while he works.
"I was thinking about going to visit Alpha Trion at some point," Orion admits, putting the bags of supplies on the table to sort out. "I promised to stop by while I was here. Did you want to come?"
"Maybe," Ravage murmurs, though Orion doubts he will. Cassettes used to be protectors of knowledge. They used to protect libraries. Now, they are delegated to the low caste and considered a burden on society. Most cassettes aren't as large as Ravage and heavily rely on Hosts to care for them. And the rarity of Hosts even compared to Cassettes makes it hard to pair them together and so cassettes live out on the streets until they deactivate or find a Host.
Speaking of.
"Sire?"
"Yes, Orion?"
Carefully, he pulls some groceries for Ratchet from the bags, for when he's gone, knowing that the bot will live off the bare minimum until the last possible moment. Doctors make the worst patients. And don't always follow their own advice.
"Would you seek out another Cassette Carrier? A new Host for yourself?" He keeps his tone light, nonjudgemental. In the many vorn since his carrier deactivated, they have never spoken about it. Even after so long, Ravage was still incredibly angry about Orion's carrier's deactivation. He's just hoping this doesn't upset the old felinoid. He would hate to make him sad.
Luckily, he doesn't have to worry about that, as Ravage's field prickles in anger.
"No," Ravage growls. "Your carrier was to be my last."
"Sire," Orion says delicately, looking down into angry red optics. "You aren't betraying my carrier by trying to make your life easier. By trying to be happy. He would want you to find another." And they were back to 'your carrier'. In a fit of anger, Ravage was able to speak his carrier's name, but no more. Maybe it was the same for both of them. Some wounds take longer to heal, it seems.
"You do not understand," Ravage snaps. Obviously, he didn't. "You are my life, Orion. If I were to find another Host, their desires would have to come first, and I won't allow that. You are my priority. I'm not some sniveling little sparkling on the streets. I don't need to be looked after or cared for. I don't need to be taught how to survive. And I certainly do no need the Host Bond to function. I survived before your carrier, and I've been fine thus far. I am not interested in seeking out a new Host, nor am I interested in being sought after."
Orion shrinks back, surprised by the venom in his sire's voice. He could understand Ravage not wanting to talk about moving on for both their sakes, but... to be so upset? Even after so long? Orion hasn't ever, nor will he ever, have the sort of bond that Ravage and his Carrier had, so he wouldn't ever fully understand. But he hadn't meant to make Ravage angry.
"I'm sorry, sire," Orion says quietly, watching the curl of the felinoid's upper derma. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Ravage turns away, pacing with a low growl of his engine. "Why are you asking this, Orion?"
"I'm almost scared to tell you," he admits. Ravage sends him a withering look, tail lashing behind him angrily. Orion concedes. "Megatronus has a friend. A cassette carrier."
Ravage pauses, momentarily surprised, before continuing his pacing across Ratchet's small kitchen. "Oh?" His voice is deceptively calm.
"Yeah, but he doesn't know a lot about his functioning," Orion proceeds carefully. "He saved twin cassettes sometime in the past, I don't actually know when and budded out his own around a vorn ago."
This time, Ravage does stop, turning to look at Orion with simmering red optics. "And you say he doesn't know his functioning?"
Orion shakes his helm. "He's learning it all as it happens. He hadn't even known he was budding his own cassette until she emerged. He had thought he was dying."
Ravage snorts, rolling his optics. He lowers to a sit beside Orion, seemingly calmer than before. "I am not interested in a Host, Orion. But I am not a monster. If need be, I can answer any of his questions." Orion perks up, expression brightening. Before he can thank his sire, Ravage sends him a stern look. "Only through you. I am only interested in helping, not being pursued in any manner. You will act as our go-between."
He'll take it. "I'll extend the offer to Soundwave."
Ravage blinks, head tilting slightly, before he simply stands up and walks from the room, effectively putting an end to the conversation.
After their last meal of the orn, Orion heads outside to call Megatronus, being sure to keep close to the clinic. Dead End is not the place to be caught alone if one isn't from those parts.
/Hello, Orion. How was your orn?/
/Good. I spent the orn with my sire and running errands for Ratchet like I used to. It was nice to fall back on a familiar routine. And you?/
Megatronus hums. /Same as always. I've been missing you./
Orion feels a smile curl over his derma. /I've been missing you too./ After going through their pleasantries, Orion finally broke down and told Megatronus about the conversation he had with Ravage about the two of them. And the relationship that's formed between them. Perhaps not the true depth of it, and their intentions to go through the ritus, but that they were seeing each other. /He's stern now, but I promise that he will come to understand when he meets you./
There is hesitation and unease in Megatronus' voice, when he says, /I hope you're right. I would hate to agitate your sire without cause.../
/He's already irritated. He doesn't agree with what you're doing. He thinks that you're going to get me deactivated./
Megatronus is quiet for a long time, considering. /I wouldn't want that,/ he admits. There is something strained in his voice. A worry, like he hadn't fully considered the danger this would put Orion in.
/You can't talk me out of this,/ Orion states, firmly. /So, try not to worry yourself about it. I understand that this is dangerous, but it must be done. I'm going to help you however I can and that's that. We are in this together. My sire is overprotective. He doesn't agree with it now, but he will come to understand, and he will respect my decision./
Megatronus sighs, deflated. /I'm sorry, Orion. I hadn't fully comprehended the danger others would be in for simply supporting the cause. I just.../
/Need support from all angles,/ Orion states. /Something this big will not solve itself with just a few voices. All of Cybertron must speak together. I might not be the one standing on the podium making the decisions, the speeches, but that doesn't mean I can't stand at your side, offering my aid in however I can. Whether it be to help proofread your words, help you write them, get them to places that you can't reach, I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm your mech. I believe in you, my champion. I believe that you can make the lives of our fellow bots better as a whole. You're too late to have regrets about involving me. I know now. I see now. And I can never go back to unseeing. So don't even try it./
/Yes, beloved,/ Megatronus murmurs softly. There is still hesitation there, still worry, but also love. Adoration. Approval. It makes Orion smile.
/On an unrelated note, and why I was reaching out, it was to ask you to pass a message on for me, if you would./
/Oh?/
/To Soundwave. I spoke to my sire, he said that he was willing to answer any questions that Soundwave might have about cassettes, carriers, all of that. But he would only use me as a medium. So, if you want to pass my comm on to Soundwave and let him know if he has any questions to send them my way and I'll let my sire know./
Megatronus takes a slow, deep invent. /You really spoke to him?/
/Yes, I told you I would./
A long stretch of silence. Orion stops his pacing in front of the window to the clinic. He can see Ratchet and Ravage in the living room arguing about something. He can see Ratchet grunt, waving a servo dismissively, but a smile is curving the corner of his derma up.
Orion blinks, turning away from the window and opens his intake, about to asking if Megatronus was still there when Megatronus finally says, softly, /Thank you, Orion. Soundwave... he.../ A sigh. /He won't ask for help. He never does. I don't know if he will reach out, but I will pass the message along and... thank you, again, Orion. Truly. What you have done for him means a lot to me./
/Of course it does,/ Orion laughs softly, relieved that Megatronus seemed to be okay. /He's your family./
/Yes,/ Megatronus murmurs. /Yes, he is./
Orion awoke to Teletraan brushing against his processor. He looks out one of the nearby windows from his pull-out berth to see that Hadean is steadily peaking over the horizon. He has been steadily growing used to be able to sleep in since having gone from a dock worker to an archivist. This feels more familiar to him. Late into the night cycle or unfathomably early in the day cycle. He sort of missed watching their star rise up into the sky. He used to sit with Dion and Ariel on orn like this.
"Teletraan?" Orion murmurs, voice rough from recharge as he pulls himself from his thoughts. He feels Ravage shift slightly from where his help rests over Orion's spark, blinking bleary red optics at him.
"Orion, Terminus is to be expected in Iacon in three groon," Teletraan informs him. "I apologize. I know you were recharging, but I figured that you would want to be present at the station when he arrived."
Orion rubs at his face plates. He carefully stretches, not minding when Ravage didn't really move his helm from Orion's chassis as he does so.
"Thank you, Teletraan. I'll be there." He sighs, wrapping his arms around Ravage's helm snuggling close to his sire.
"What is going on, Orion?" Ravage murmurs, adjusting a bit but not pulling away. His optics flutter a bit. He heaves a heavy exvent. "What were you speaking to Teletraan about?"
"I had Teletraan do me a favor." Orion yawns, still snuggling close to his sire. "I asked him to locate the mech that took care of Megatronus while he was living in the Tarnian mines. I wanted to do if he was still functional or not. Teletraan found him. He managed to set him free. He'll be here in a few groon. Teletraan was just alerting me of his impending arrival."
"Who is this bot you speak of?" Ravage's optics flicker on. He twists a bit in Orion's grip to meet light blue optics with bright red.
Orion yawns again, giving himself a little shake that will hopefully help to pull him from the last tendrils of recharge, even as they paw at him. "His name is Terminus. He was an archivist, once upon a time. Like me."
"How did he do that, Orion?" There is an edge of uncertainty to his voice.
"I didn't ask," Orion replies truthfully.
Ravage's optics study Orion's expression, his soft fields, before nodding. "Be careful of what you ask of Teletraan, Orion. He denies you nothing."
Orion nods, knowing all too well what Teletraan would do for him. The AI in question, though, flutters across Orion's processor with a hint of indignity. "It is my purpose," Teletraan says, voice emotionless. "Feel free to ask me of anything and everything that you wish, Orion. If it is possible to make so, then I shall. But I won't compromise you. Ravage's fears are unfounded. You are safe. I will ensure it."
Orion doesn't dare voice those words back to his sire, who is agitated enough as it is. But he will be mindful of requests in the future.
Orion waits until just before he needs to leave to go to the station to wake up Ratchet to let him know of the situation. He felt bad cutting into the mech's recharge until he heard the chime of an alarm less than a klik later. Ravage wanted to come, just about insisted that Orion couldn't go without him, but then he received a comm that made him hesitate. Whomever was on the other line was persistent enough, or persuasive enough, to convince him otherwise. No doubt someone from his extensive information network that needed him for one measure or another. Bound by self-inflicted duty, Ravage agreed begrudgingly to let Orion go alone but warned him to keep his comms open and answer when called. His field was prickly when it brushed against Orion which is never a good sign.
Ratchet remained to get the clinic space set up for Terminus' arrival, and in case anyone else came seeking aid in the meantime. So, Orion made his way to the station alone, excited and nervous about meeting the bot that raised Megatronus.
Everything ran smoothly as he waited outside of the gate leading to Tarn. There wasn't a lot of visitors coming from there, so Orion was able to make out the mech in question almost immediately as he very slowly made his way from checkpoint to checkpoint. He was a 'criminal' entering into Iacon which means multiple random stops outside of the normal checkpoints. No one seemed to mind how shaky his was on his pedes, his metal warped and rusted. Aged and unkept. How terribly thin he was, or how his green optics were so dim Orion wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't see at all. Orion's spark bled as he watched the old mech simply allow himself to be patted down again and again, pushed from one point to the next and made to tell his story a hundred times, while never offering a moment's reprieve.
All the while the Enforcer assigned to him, a black and white plated Praxian with light blue optics and a bright red chevron was standing at his side, unyielding. He would place a servo on Terminus's arm to help him remain upright, or steady him when he swayed too much, even snapping at an Enforcer that got too impatiently rough with him along the way. Despite being slightly shorter than the Iaconi Enforcer the Praxian one stood tall with long, elegant doorwings spread wide, decals glistening in the rays of light. The Iaconi Enforcer took one look at those wings and backed down.
In a manner, Orion was envious. He always wanted wings with which to fly. He knew Praxians couldn't fly with their wings, but he still really liked them.
And he was thankful to the Enforcer for his diligence and his kindness in dealing with Terminus, even when his fellows were not as much so.
Once they made it through the final checkpoint, Orion made his way over immediately, ready with the primed data packet that Teletraan had sent to him for the Enforcer to recognize Orion as the one that will ultimately gain custodial power over Terminus once they reach Kaon.
"Hi there!" Orion says as he approaches, excitement flooding his field. The Enforcer watches him with sharp, ice blue optics as he gets close.
"State your business," he says firmly.
Orion, respectfully, places the palm of his servo on the metal of his chassis between his spark and neck - a high respect for an authoritative figure that wasn't over the spark, which is reserved for the Prime - and bows slightly. "I am Orion Pax. I am to take custody of Terminus in Kaon."
The elderly bot watches him with dim green optics, helm tilted slightly. Being this close, despite it being at least an orn or two, Orion can smell loose soil and spilt energon on the mech. And rust. A lot of rust. He tries not to bulk at the obvious sickness and instead smiles kindly.
"Hello, Terminus. It is nice to meet you." He offers another respectful bow which seems to surprise the old mech.
"You're the one..." he rasps, voice withered and thin, like his frame. He heaves a deep invent, as if unable to fully pass air through his vents. "You're the one that bartered my... for my freedom?"
Orion nods, glancing over at the Enforcer, who was watching him closely. "I have the paperwork, officer. When you're ready."
He nods, sending over a short-wave ping. Orion returns it, before sending the data burst to him. Those bright blue optics grow distant for only a moment before clearing up once more. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Orion Pax," the Enforcer says slowly, like he wasn't fully sure on the designation. Those optics focus intently on him, studying every little piece of him from the top of helm vent and finials, all the way down to his pedes, not missing a single part of him. "I am Prowl."