☽ 〗𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘤〖 ☾
The Decepticon Warship drifted through the space, passing by countless stars and planets as it was far away from Earth, whereas the Autobots or the humankind satelites won’t detect them.
Two of Megatron’s loyalists followed after thier Lord, holding captive the Autobot Medic, whose designation was Ratchet. Held captive, the old mech had little to no chance of fleeing, being surrounded by the cunning and observant ‘Cons. Megaton treaded onto the main bridge, countless holographic screens showing up essays of data and information Ratchet could exploit, but had no device to help him with downloading it, or even taking a shot of it.
„Im sure you would more fully appreciate a tour of our facilities if you were comfortable.”
The Warlord said, as the trooper on Ratchet’s right reached and with a sharp, yet quiet lighting-like noise the Energon cuffs dissapeared, freeing the medic. He rubbed his wrist before rolling them, his optics narrowing.
„How do you know i wont use these to amputate…”
He growled, taking steps forward with a scowl on his faceplates and his servos transformed into blades, raising them menacingly. And yet… Megatron was seemingly relaxed, underesmiating the medic’s capabilities, only sparing him a mere glance while turning to stay side-ways. His crimson optics were seemingly relaxed, or calm, which is a rare phenomenom.
„And pass up the chance to see our molecular masking field?”
He inquired, gesturing with a clawed servo towards one of the terminals.
„Your cloaking device…”
Ratchet’s optics widened a tad, before transforming his blades back into his servos, and yet he was wary of the mech beside him – rightfully so. Examining the holograpic screen with the engineered shield, he scoffed, his right servo still slightly raised, like ready to defend himself the moment Megatron moved. It wasn’t exactly fun and sunshines when you felt the Warlord’s gaze piercing into your helm. With a scoff, he added:
„Shielding is shielding, high-tech or long.”
But Megatron? He wasn’t having any chances, almost like trying to impress Ratchet like a male bird dancing to a female, trying to impress her. Turning, he approached the main terminal, Ratchet following after him.
„Perhaps you’ll be more impressed by our energon transfusion capaticor.”
He said with a hint of hidden pride, keeping his baritone voice emotionless as the two troopers stood there, ready to obey and react if Ratchet attempted to do anything against them, especially thier Lord. Speaking of him, he continued:
„It allows us to maximize our consumption a thousand fold.”
„The decepticon engineering never fails to impress.”
Claimed the white and orangeish-red bot half-way behind Megatron, taking in the sight of the project. Megatron then turned to Ratchet, his sharp gaze flickering down to look properly at the smaller mech.
„Doctor.. we may be mortal enemies, but Autobots and Decepticons do share one common goal. You would like to see the ruins of our devastated Homeworld, restored to thier former brilliance.. As would I.”
In the same moment Megatron finished his sentence the screen flickered and dissapeared, revealing the sight of the old home the both Cybertronian once had, dark and gloomy, reeking with death and despair even from this distance. Ratchet gazed up into the screen, his intake slightly agape, like he was speechless, but in the reality he was collecting the words to create up his next words:
„Megatron, you would just try to conquer Cybertron all over again, and enslave anyone who refuses to pledge allegiance to you.”
„Of course I would!”
Megatron nearly exclaimed, making the two troops jump a bit, sharing a subtle nervous glance between each other as the towering bot turned away from the holographic screen, his pedesteps thundering as he folded his servos behind his back. Standing with his back turned to Ratchet who looked at the back of his helm, Megatron’s optics pierced into the two, them straightening thier spinal cords instantly.