re_alignment | [Broadcasting from the tallest peak he can find in the junk pile.]

[Someone has been through this before. Someone knows this drill. Someone has worked very, very hard to finally make it back to his Cybertron, only to find it all wrong. Again.

Someone probably has destroyed a few piles of junk in their anger.

However, someone also has paid attention to the communications on the network, and has ventured to the 'temples' that were mentioned, and has found them locked against him.

This someone is not surprised.]

Listen closely, and listen well.

[It is time to act. The feed opens with a closeup on Megatron's faceplates, optics blazing red, the scant remnants of gladiator paint still burned onto the metal.]

This is not where we belong, and I am done with this.

I am done with waking up to see an unfamiliar sun obscuring all-too-familiar stars. I am done with strangers being cast from world to world. I am done with mechs-who-would-be-gods so graciously patronizing us by allowing us to remain while simultaneously enforcing unethical segregation and I am done, finally, with the thwarting of destinies that I and my allies have slaved, toiled, and died to create.

You can listen to those who make the rules here if you desire to. I have heard a song like theirs, before.

Or.

[He flashes, briefly, a datapad that seems to have some sort of schematic on it--a schematic that looks (to those who are familiar with them) like a complicated space bridge.]

If you are 'done' as I am, you can help me.

I am Megatron, and I will deliver anyone that joins me to their rightful homes.

[A single, pointed tooth is visible in the smirk that finally dawns on his face. His interdimensional portal had only worked, once, but with the right mechs he would see it to completion again. Immediately.]

I guarantee it.

~~~~~

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I agree. I was eyeing those mountains on the horizon, unless you have another suggestion?

[His first above-ground base. It would make the jets happy.]

[He takes a few moments to look this mech over, however.] Frame type makes no difference to me. [That was, in a way, the whole point. Also, no, he has no clue what you turn into. A submarine, maybe?]

I was thinking the same thing, actually, Lord Megatron.

I appreciate the sentiment, but that's not what I'm getting at. [Have a brief, apologetic smile before it disappears.] I was forced into this frame-type. During the war, the project I was working on was attacked by Autobots. I, uh. I ran, since I can't fight. I was arrested later and sentenced to death. Myself and all the other inmates were reformatted into these frame types.

I turn into a bomb, sir, if I jump. No, I can't control it.

I guess one of the points I'm getting at is... I'm not sure where I stand in regards to my, uh. Punishment? I was supposed to die, because I couldn't fight. If I stayed to fight, I would have died, I'm pretty sure. And shoot like crap. With you as you are now, how would you have judged me?

...

...

You know, most people who would tell that story might try to make themselves sound better in it.

[And this might have been one of the few instances in which he'd have truly advocated a form change, too. Being a bomb sounded...disastrous. In many ways.]

Were you in charge of the mission?

I get told pretty often that I'm not like most Decepticons, my lord.

I was in charge of the project, not the mission itself.

I believe I can see why.

[He considers this, and makes a particular note for himself as well.]

If you aren't able to fight, then the responsibility for counterattack should have fallen on the mission commander.

You should not have run, soldier...

But there should have been someone there to protect you.

As to using you for a bomb...I am certain I could think of much more creative punishments that would leave you still useful and alive when they were done. [He can think of ten right now.]

I--

[Fulcrum's not about to argue back or defend himself; if Megatron says he shouldn't have run, then. Then well, all right then. But at the same time, he isn't defending his form. So that's good. He thinks. Maybe.]

That's... something at least, sir.

There's one last thing I'd like to bring up if you have time.

At the moment, given that information is what I'm looking for--do continue.

I highly suggest you be wary of who becomes part of your army. I was forged when the empire was at its peak about four million years ago. But I feel like we lost our way, becoming almost nothing but sadists and psychos who use the war as an excuse to maim and torture people for kicks.

I understand using your resources, but how it ended up working out? I think it's one of the reasons why we ended up the way we did.

It's... it's just a suggestion, my lord.

[He gives your words consideration.]

Someone such as 'Tarn?'

[Who he's been hearing about from Misfire. Sort of.]

You aren't the first to propose such to me. [Possibly the first Decepticon from his own universe to have the gumption, but not the first mech ever.] One constant I have learned about in my travels seems to be the perversion of the Decepticon cause from its initial momentum. [Winning becoming more important. His own descent into insanity. Everything in-between.]

It will not happen again. [He's going to be the Megatron that wins. The certainty in his voice ensures that.]

[Fulcrum visibly flinches at the name.]

Who--? ...Er. Yes, sir. Someone like that, and the rest of his team.

[The K-Classer gives a hesitant nod.] Thank you, Lord Megatron. It's why I felt maybe informing you was best. If ... things could turn around somehow, it didn't seem like it'd hurt to tell you.

[So Tarn had a team. And they were, apparently, famous enough to cause that flinch.] What was their assignment?

[A corner of his lip twitches into an ironic smirk.] If I were like my future self, it could have hurt a great deal to tell me.

However, that is one fate I am attempting to avoid.

[Taking over all of Cybertron in a planet-shattering blitz? Yes. Gaining insanity, becoming power-mad, ruining the homeworld, and losing the war? No.]

To... hunt down and execute all traitors to the Decepticon cause. I know that sounds noble, but their methods weren't.

I-I figured. But it was worth a shot to say something. Thank you for hearing me out.

Well, if this device of yours ends up working, things could turn out a lot better for sure.

It seems to me that defining 'traitor' could become problematic.

[Ah. Wait. He sees where this is going.] Someone who deserted there post might become a good candidate, for instance, even if they'd done the best they could at the time.

Unfortunate.

[He leans in, close, making sure this next point is taken to heart.]

Fulcrum.

If this device works, there will be no need for mechs like Tarn. Everything is going to change for the better...

And you'll be welcome to return, to see.

[It'll still be brutal, of course. They are Decepticons. But hey, there will be less of that whole losing thing.]

...Right.

[When he's supposed to be executed for living, it's hard to want to agree with, uh, being horribly killed by the DJD.]

Oh. I.

[There's a big relief. That earns a small smile.]

Right. I'd like that, Lord Megatron. Thank you.

[He'd say 'no lord' on that Megatron, but he's found that it's easier to let it pass than to try to explain his reasoning.]

I will explore the mountains after I've met with a few...appointments.

Talk to those I have sent you, and forward me a list of items you will need. I'll send you the coordinates once I've found a defensible position.

[Broadcasting from the tallest peak he can find in the junk pile.]

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