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HAPPY PRIDE MONTH ! đđłâđ
AAGHH i hope im not too late :,D

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The Trial of Megatron Part One: The End? Chapter 2.2
Chapter 2.2
It wasnât uncommon for death-row prisoners in Kaon to request final visits from old friends, but even the expressionless minicons seemed shocked today to see Optimus Primeâs name under Megatronâs on the visitorâs list.
   Wardens chattered in the halls as Optimus passed through cellblock after cellblock before entering a stiffly guarded containment cubicle designed for only the most highly dangerous of criminals. Kaon didnât house many prisoners. Most Autobots were reliable enough as citizens, although some legislative changes had landed a number of black market dealers and vandals behind laser bars in the past couple hundred thousand stellar cycles. Naturally, it had been a long time since the last Autobot prisoner was sent to Trypticon on charges of treason. Instead, they were normally detained in the Elite Guard stockades. The Decepticon prisoners here were few, each of them bound to spend a lifetime within Trypticonâs thick plated walls. Optimus looked only forward as he â led by a minicon guide â passed Lugnut, Blitzwing and Shockwave going down a lonely corridor. Megatron was at the end. Four Elite Guard sentries guarded each threateningly powerful Decepticon officer. Optimusâs escort nodded his approval at the guards by Megatronâs cell who stepped aside to let the two of them pass through the first of three transparent laser gates that contained the inmate.
   Megatron sat in stasis cuffs behind the third gate. He looked tired, as if he had gotten no sleep since their last encounter, but anger flickered in his optics as his looked, almost eye to eye in his seated position, at Optimus Prime.Â
   âYou have ten cycles,â The minicon stepped back and the laser walls were replaced. No one could hear their conversation now. There was a tense moment when nobot said anything, and then Megatron sighed.
   âOptimus Prime,â His words came painfully slow. âI am delighted that you accepted my invitation.â His face said otherwise.
   The pistons under Optimusâs chest plate quickened their rotations, but he stood erect, servos clasped behind him âWhat is it, Megatron?â he spat.
   His nemesis was unhurried, though, and his words came gradually. âI have something to tell you, something that concerns you. Surely it comes as no surprise to you that I do not plan to let the weak will of mere Autobots dictate my fate, and because you have developed a seemingly inexorable interest in my plans for the Decepticons, I want you to remain informed.â
   Optimus squinted, âInformed of what?â
   Megaton glanced around his cell, âOmega Supreme⌠your pitiful crew⌠this place⌠it is all fleeting. In the wake of my empire, it shall all crumble.â
   Optimus rolled his optics. âGive it up Megatron. Your vision of a destroyed Cybertron and an enslaved generation of Autobots will never come to pass. Youâre to be executed.â He looked inwardly for a moment before continuing, âBut if it were up to me, youâd stay here forever.â
   âAh, yes. How poetic it would be for a ânarcissistic tyrantâ such as myself to slowly rot in prison, out of the public eye, while you â a worthless Autobot annoyance â to be worshiped as a hero by the fickle, uneducated masses.â Megatron chuckled at the thought. âI understand the average citizen. They are sure to forget about you just as soon as a fitting replacement comes along.â
   At this, their tense silence resumed, and the guards motioned to Optimus that only one cycle remained.
   As he nodded affirmatively in the guardsâ direction, Optimus slowly internalized Megatronâs assessment of himself, not knowing how best to reply. The warlord, however, was at no loss for words and nodded as he provided closing remarks. âYou tried so hard to make something of yourself, didnât you? Iâve learned all about your life during my time here â everyone on Cybertron has.â Megatron cracked a cruel smile, âHow you were disgraced by your own: left to rust on space bridge commission. How embarrassing. Needless to say, it was a short and rather uninteresting story.âÂ
   Thatâs it. Optimus turned aside and considered leaving prematurely. I donât have to put up with this, he thought.
   Megatronâs voice rose in an attempt to recapture his attention, âYou know, Iâve decided that I will remember your name... yes.â Megatron stretched the syllable, âHistory would want me to remember it â remember you: the âbot who stood in the way of the great Megatron, and who even now, after his pretend heroics, is without recognition and without a future.â
   âTime!â someone behind Optimus shouted. Optimus barely heard the laser gates reopen and his mind whirred as he was escorted hurriedly outside of Trypticon, outside Kaon. Standing just beyond the fortified border of Kaon, he wondered, What was that all about? Thereâs no hope for Megatron now. His officers incarcerated, his forces scattered and disillusioned⌠heâs going to be executed in nine solar cycles, for Sparkâs sake!
   The contemptuous words, âwithout a future.â repeated themselves inside Optimusâs mind as he lingered âhow embarrassing.â Then, realization suddenly spread over his face. He quickly transformed and drove off in the direction of Iacon with hopes of gaining an audience with Cybertronâs acting Magnus.Â
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The Trial of Megatron Part One: The End? Chapter 2.1
Chapter 2.1
  It wasnât time to head back to earth yet. The team would have an Elite Guard escort assigned to them for their return trip, but until then, they would wait at a residential area just outside of Iacon, which scads of maintenance workers called home. Some worked in Cybertronâs underground, unclogging pipes that would stop up with time and refreshing the planetâs lubrication and subterranean oil supply. Others were aboveground specialists. Still others operated in deep space, assuring that Cybertronâs moons and sister planets were orbiting free of obstructions, assessing the condition of the large windscape flags that deflected solar storms from the Commonwealth and clearing space bridges.
  It was here that most of Optimus Primeâs crew lived whenever their spacebridge repair duties brought them back to Cybertron. The camp was no-frills, built to satisfy only the basic needs of its inhabitants. Even so, most Cybertronians were content with its basic accommodations.
  On the other hand, Sari had been raised in the modern, opulent, comfortable shelter of Sumdac Tower from the moment she was born. Things changed when her father went missing. Having to stay in the crewâs makeshift base in an old car manufacturing plant for upwards of six months was difficult at first. Living with friends made life easier, though and she soon grew accustomed to the plantâs drab colors, undecorated rooms and unconventional layout.
  Seeing the Autobot barracks for the first time made her appreciate her friendsâ sympathy for that downtrodden and neglected base, which, despite its charmless halls, was still considered home to them. The rows of apartments here emitted a pseudo-suburban feel, and the sense of neighborly connection that Sari sensed in most any human township was replaced by a cold closeness, as if you were alone in the world: one of many sardines in a can.
  Again, most Autobots wouldnât mind, but Sari felt claustrophobic as she stood with Bumblebee and Bulkhead near the entrance to one of the studio apartments.
  âSoooâŚâ Sari said, standing in the apartmentâs doorway, just one human-sized step away from the main room. âThis is Optimusâs place, huh?â
  âYeah,â Bulkhead replied, âlooks more like a library than living quarters, though.â
  These types of small, three-room dwellings were standard issue to most spacebridge crewbots, who inevitably didnât spend much time at home. Other than the living room, a single storage room and a bedroom were the dwellingâs only other commodities. Understandably, it was somewhat of a downgrade from Optimusâs old Autobot Academy dorm where two to four students could enjoy spaces for study, lifestyle and exercise. Clearly, the lack of creature comforts in the maintenance district had not stopped Optimus from learning all he could in his down time. His living space was clearly too small to hold the plethora of learning materials a former dedicated student would own.
  Spacebridge repair meant working far from civilization for stellar centuries at a time. Orbital cycles of searching out problem areas in the network meant a crew only cleared a bridge about once every two deca-cycles. Despite the mundane and laborious nature of this work, diligent crews would be given a stellar cycleâs leave after returning to Cybertron. Some crewbots got together with old friends or enjoyed a vacation on a moon base, but Optimus spent his time in study, sometimes even volunteering at Iaconâs datatrax library as an assistant bookkeeper. Before coming to earth, âhomeâ for him became wherever a treasure trove of knowledge was.
  Bumblebee and Bulkhead were more the generic type. They essentially stuck together whether or not they were at work, sometimes exploring the corners and byroads of Iacon, other times enjoying day visits to familiar spots. One stellar cycle, the two visited Bulkheadâs hometown on Moon Base One. Bumblebee had never been to the moons before and remembered the atmosphere being denser than on Cybertron and the erupting energon deposits made the air slightly pinkish. Nevertheless, the amiable robots that lived there fit Bulkheadâs easygoing personality perfectly. They were unassuming, slow moving and mostly hospitable, save a few curmudgeonly farming folk. Bulkhead was lucky to be reared up around âbots that encouraged his early interest in spacebridges and his then-grandiose aspirations of moving to the âbig cityâ before his boot camp days.
  Bumblebee wasnât protofromed into that kind of environment, but into the overpopulated city of Kalis. He quickly discovered that he had to fight his way to the top of the heap if he ever wanted to become something more than a generic cog: a face in the crowd. Ironically, Bulkhead always seemed totally content with life, even though â in opposition to Bumblebeeâs reach-for-the-stars mentality â he tended to set relatively low expectations for himself. Bumblebee could count on one servo the times that Bulkhead had complained or, like him, stared forlornly into the eyes of fate longing for something more in life to pop up and give him purpose. It didnât matter if the two of them were on Cybertron or on an asteroid. Bulkhead was always kind. And being hailed as heroes on earth for the last two stellar cycles hadnât altered him either.
  The two of friends had been to their commanderâs modest compartment before and felt the same sense of something erudite gushing out from behind every row of shelves and neatly stacked mound of notes in cybertronian lettering. Unceremoniously, Sari scrambled up of one of the stacks and sat with her hands in her lap. âToo bad we have to wait here all day. I canât even read this stuff.â
  âWell,â Bulhkhead began, âwe donât have to stay here. Itâs just that this is your first time on Cybertron and we donât want anybot getting on edge if they see you. Besides, Prime will be here soon; he just had to go to Kaon for that official visit he was talking about.â
  Rathcet was also incapacitated, as he had been called to meet with Perceptor and the Science Guild to discuss the status and argue the fate of Omega Supreme.
  At that moment, Bumblebee had one of his trademark bright ideas, the kind that were always bound to end in collateral damage and a firm scolding from Optimus. Voicing his opinion on the matter of staying in all day, he said, âSariâs right, though! This place is a bore. All we can do here is walk in circles!â He waved his arms in the air. âThereâs got to be some place in Iacon that we can take her so she wonât be seen.â
  âCool! Sightseeing!â Sari agreed.
  Bulkhead squinted, deep in thought. âI donât know, Bumblebee. You know what happened last time we left the team without telling anyone.â
  Bulkhead had a point there. Two months ago, the threesome had abandoned monitor duty in the plant for an exploratory adventure into the heart of Detroit.
  Still Bumblebee was steadfast, âHey! We busted that green ring, didnât we? Well, didnât we?!?â
  Sari concurred, âAaaand, prevented that gang war. It was all really educational, too! I never knew Detroit was so seedy!â
  Bumblebee fidgeted. âCâmon, Bulkhead. Nothing that bad could possibly happen here. This is our home. There are no supervillains or Porter C. Powellâs to slow us down. Besides! Sheâll be right with us the whole time. We know this city.â
  Bulkhead glanced one more time at the room of books then rolled his eyes in surrender. âFine, but I choose where we go, got it?â
  âYeah, Yeah. Absolutely!â Bumblebee said, transforming to car mode, âHop in Sari! Iâve got an idea of where we can go!â
  Sari smirked and Bulkhead sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

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