| abstract | - Island Center - Lots of forestry. Subtle hints of a long crash trail that had cut through the area, ending in a sunken cave where a wrecked spaceship is hidden. Off in the "Decepticon" side of the joint (barely) Cybertronian camp, Megatron has had his own personal portable field hospital all but set up all around him as Soundwave effected repairs to his lord as well as that of the other Decepticons that were bashed up in the previous fighting. For the moment, the Tape Commander leans over the gunmetal grey form, a pen-shaped welder in hand as he works silently and diligently on the delicate torso circuits exposed where the main chestplate of his leader has been flipped up. He's been like this for almost two days straight now, without so much as a rest. First the Quintesson's body programming had to be purged, and then the physical repairs completed. But at long last...the end is in sight. Reidan Wesley is on the edge of the Autobot side... his pants are now shorts, with the remnants of the leg that HADNT been charred now turned to strips wrapped around his boney left calf and the burn there. He was gnawing on the edge of his sabertoothed pipe ponderously, eyes glancing towards the field hospital within viewing range every now and then, ponderously. A fire was a few feet away, and a makeshift drying rack held some strips of dinosaur meat - waste not, want not, after all. Cyclonus, while performing his various duties as temporary leader, including arguing with the Autobots, knocking the Decepticons' heads together as needed, and especially keeping tabs on what Starscream has been up to, has also been checking up on Megatron's status. He realizes that he's part of the reason why Megatron's repairs took so long--it was perhaps a bad move to use his lasers' oxidizing effect upon him. Regardless, since Megatron appears to be getting better, he merely stands inside the portable hospital silently, waiting for Soundwave to finish. What will he tell him when he wakes up? That question truly vexes him. Fragment returns from the Nemesis where he's been making preparations. That could mean anything really. Pushing a broom perhaps? He checks the cooled magma where there was once a wreckage and is satisfied with the 'eraser' job the volcano provided. He chips off a bit of the once liquefied minerals and stores it away before returning to 'Camp Con.' Soundwave keeps working, despite the fact that Cyclonus is effectively standing and looking over his shoulder as he effects repairs. This sort of thing would usually be unnerving to most, bringing a bit of performance anxiety, but to the toneless blue intelligence commander, having an audience is no more stress worthy than working alone. With a final snap of sparks before the welder shuts off, Soundwave straightens up, "Repairs completed." He announces in his monotone voice, both hands rising to grip the edge of his lord's chest panel and lowering it down into place with the clank of metal on metal as it locks firmly. "Mighty Megatron functions." Indeed, the cold and previously black optics now burn their usual red. The grey form slowly sits upright, wordlessly turning in place and putting his feet to the ground before he pushes up to a standing position. Slowly, and deliberately, the cannon arm raises, the hand flexing open and closed several times as he inspects Soundwave's repairs, alert for any sign of imperfections or mistakes. Naturally, there are none. The repair job is perfect. And still, Megatron says nothing. Cyclonus mentally steels himself as Megatron rises. No telling how Megatron will react to his current status, nor how he'll react to Cyclonus himself. And so, he merely does his best to make a show of fealty. To this end, he draws forth his Diamond-Boron Carbide sword, and simply tosses it to the ground before Megatron's feet. Then he kneels, as a knight of old might, bowing his head, and proclaims, "Lord Megatron, my sword is yours if you would have it." Now if this is a really bad day Megatron will pick that sword up and use it to lop his head off. Well, he figured Galvatron was going kill him one day anyway. Might as well be his predecessor. Reidan Wesley glances up as motion catches his eye. The old man tenses, watching keenly, not moving a single muscle. His eyebrow raises at Cyclonus' action, but still he says nothing. Fragment catches chivalrous words of Cyclonus and arches an optic ridge, then sees Megatron has risen. He grunts, "Good. Finally get some balance around here." The spacer gives the standard Decepticon saluting. Hail Screwb or whatever. Megatron turns in place, the motion slow, but fluid, watching as Cyclonus tosses down his sword before him and kneels, swearing his fealty. The crimson optics glare down at the figure in front of him for what seems like an eternity, before he leans down to seize up the sword hilt in his non cannon-bearing hand. The weapon is examined calmly and dutifully, turned end over end like a warrior with a proper appreciation for any instrument of killing. And without even missing a beat, the other hand extends outwards, the huge fingers spreading before they suddenly curl about Cyclonus' throat, the arm lifting upwards with the tremendous strength of Megatron that legends speak of even long after his transformation to Galvatron was completed. "I'll have more than your sword, should I so desire..." The voice rasps coldly, deliberately. Letting each syllable hang in the air as he brings Cyclonus' head up to stare face-to-face with him, even as the fingers start to tighten meaningfully. "Whether I claim you and your band of minions that have appeared conveniently from nowhere as recycled scrap metal will depend solely on what you have to say to me." Cyclonus' face is pulled so close that the rim of Megatron's forehead almost touches to his own. "And you're going to start telling me...-everything-." Cyclonus, at the very least, is used to this sort of thing. To his credit, he doesn't reach up to Megatron's strangling hand as if to pull it away, though his fists do clench together. "Hrrrkkk--nnf, yes, Lord Megatron," he gasps out, optics bulging a bit as he stares back at Megatron. "Well, *kaff* as you might imagine, there are... well, certain details best not spoken off... nfff... within earshot of your... *enemies.* Those enemies... not necessarily being Autobots, if you take my meaning, my Lord." That last bit being a bit quieter. Well, so much for his hopes that Megatron would prove to be a less abusive leader than Galvatron. Fragment cocks his head. "Convenient my afterburners." He tallies it up in his head in the form of a previous episodes recap montage: Battle back in the future, getting harpooned by Impactor. Waking up near offline. Seeing long dead enemies and whatnot. Dinocons. Decepticons having to lay the beatdown on their leader while trying not to die. Aftermath cleanup of Dinocons. And dealing with the apparent split-personality Quintesson on top of a cease fire with the Autobots. "-MEGATRON- will decide what details are best spoken of and where!" The cold voice of the Decepticon leader carries as he shifts his grip on Cyclonus just enough so as to move him to one side, allowing him to glare over at the only other future Decepticon that he can see at the moment, at least for an instant. Luckily for Fragment, Cyclonus is currently serving as a handy choke-target and is keeping the barely contained gunmetal grey bundle of seething rage occupied for the moment. "Your life is measured in astroseconds if I do not find your words satisfying. Tell me why I shouldn't just reduce you to your base components and force your underlings to submit or follow a similar fate! I'm certain that Soundwave could always give us access to this starship form I hear you have without the need for your personality core within it." Amber MacKenzie is quietly lying on her stomach in her temporary housing in a rocky crevice, watching the camp below. The only sound up there, other than the voices coming from below, is the faint hum of the camcorder beside her. As there are no Autobots in immediate sight, she decides to stay where she is for now. The big Cons have come out to play, and she doesn't feel like playing a chew toy for them. She shakes her head slightly at Megatron's unnecessary violence. Poor Cyclonus. Reidan Wesley shivers a little bit, old memories being brought up as he remains, smartly, silent. His eyes remain on Megatron however, never leaving him. Cyclonus clenches his teeth, feeling light-headed as his fuel lines struggle to send energon to his cpu. "Because... Lord... Megatron... I am the one who stopped... Starscream from abandoning you in this place... I am the one who brought the Decepticons here... and... ennnhhh... I'm your best hope of ensuring that you meet your glorious destiny in the future! For you see... anff... I am your second-in-command... in the future! And... unlike Starscream... I am truly loyal... and reliable..." Except for when he's doping Galvatron up with anti-psychotic drugs to the point where he can barely see straight, but that's for his OWN good, really. Really it is. "Kill me if you wish, as is your right, Megatron," Cyclonus gasps, "But if you do, you may condemn yourself to a darker future! A future where Optimus Prime still lives, Starscream remains to constantly challenge you, and your own elevation as a greater being... never happens!" Fragment glances to Soundwave, tempted to make a bet on which way this will go. He looks back at Choker and chokee. Nothing but silence hangs in the air for what seems like an eternity. The distant call of a dinosaur echoes over the island, followed by the screech of a flight of tropical birds taking to the air from their treetop roosts at the edge of the jungle clearing. And of course, the ever present groaning of metal under pressure as the grip on Cyclonus neck still holds iron-tight. "Soundwave," Megatron finally speaks the single word curt and expectant as the crimson optic gaze swivels over towards the blue and boxy Decepticon. The only response that comes? A single and slow nod. That gaze slides over to Fragment again, taking him in, before looking back to Cyclonus once more. The movement is sudden, and forceful, as Megatron's arm abruptly lashes forward, hurling the future Decepticon second from his grip, to send him crashing to the ground in front of Fragment, as if an unworded way of lumping them both together into a category he hasn't yet decided on. He still holds Cyclonus' sword in his free hand, as the other one...notably with the cannon as well, lifts to point towards them both. "Keep. Talking." Megatron commands. Fragment does that classic one-step-back stagger stance when something like this happens, finding a Cyclonus thrown at your feet. You know how that is. He glances down at the tossed Second. "Best start with the highlight reel?" Amber MacKenzie keeps as still and quiet as possible, only her green eyes moving as the follow the action below. Her heavy sweater, jeans, and even her hair are still covered with a thick layer of dust from yesterday's visit, but no, she's not going to casually wander off in search of a stream and be eaten by dinos. For now, the dust serves as welcome camouflage. Megatron is scary. Cyclonus crashes to Fragment's feet, inhaling sharply as he can finally breathe again. He doesn't reach out to Fragment for help, merely staggers up on his own, giving the other Decepticon a glance before he turns back to Megatron, rubbing his throat. "Right, the highlight reel. Myself and the other Decepticons you don't recognize--and the extra Rumble--hail from the future. We were sucked in by some sort time portal, which, if I understand it correctly, is the artifice of an alien scientist, the Quintesson that temporarily enslaved you. I believe he was trying to use it to tamper with the natural course of history, but the device failed him and he trapped himself deep in the past, lapsing into insanity. He came upon your body and the body of Optimus Prime in the Ark, and tried to use you both to his own benefit. "Some time soon after he did this, myself and several Decepticons and Autobots from the future were flung into this time, as this Time Portal reactivated itself and sucked us in. We discovered that the Decepticons and Autobots in the past had somehow reawakened, though without their respective leaders. I set about to investigate. First, I secured a base operations, reclaiming the Nemesis. Second, I overthrew Starscream as leader of the Decepticons until you could be recovered. And third, I came here, where we rescued you and restored you to leadership. "Now, as for the future... there will one day be a great and terrible battle against the Autobots. The Decepticons will kill a great many Autobots in this battle, including *Optimus Prime,* who dies at your own hand." He pauses to let that sink in. "Then... unfortunately, though you are victorious, Starscream takes advantage of your damaged state, flinging you into deep space while you cannot fight back. But... while there, you encounter a malevolent being of incalculable power, known as Unicron. You strike a bargain with it, swearing fealty in exchange for a new body and a new army of powerful Decepticons, including myself. But your oath to the creature is false, and you eventually turn upon it. The creature, for all its might, is undone soon after--" He realizes he's playing with the truth of what happens, but it's best to play to Megatron's ego. "--and you emerge, free and more powerful than ever." And completely insane. But hey, it mostly turns out well. Fragment adds, "Don't forget the revenge. That's everybody's favorite part... Big Gun reduced the traitor to dust... and the timing couldn't have been more poetic." The spacer has actually seen looping holovids through the open doors of crew quarters of that particular stroke of payback. Megatron listens. Yes, he listens with due calm and process. Thankfully the cannon arm has lowered to his side again, though he still holds Cyclonus' sword in a meaningful way....kept loose and easy by his side, with a familiar grip that comes from millennia of warfare and gladiatorial experience. "Optimus Prime dead by my own hand..." He rasps, optics narrowing. "...the inevitable end, of course." There is of course something that suddenly changes his expression for a moment, mouth curling down just slightly. "Megatron swears fealty to -no one-." his voice grates, almost vibrating with a building anger beneath, all the more intense because of another revelation. "And Starscream..." He trails off then as Fragment adds in his fate, and for just a hint of a moment, the Decepticon leader's mouth quirks up at the edge before he forces it back down again into a proper poker face, tempered as another thought comes to him. Megatron at his most intense, the seething rage hidden behind a dam of cold calculating thought untempered by the later chaotic insanity of Galvatron. Unlike his future self, Megatron's mind is almost always clear. "Assuming this...story of yours is true..." Another glance to Soundwave's impassive features, then back again. "What does it matter? If events have already changed, and by informing me of this, it would seem -your- future may be moot now as well." Reidan Wesley whistles slowly through his teeth, but continues to watch. He had a kind of sadistic, amused smile on. Cyclonus nods to Fragment. "Ah, yes, how foolish to forget THAT part," though he didn't forget it so much as he didn't mention it in the fear that Starscream was lurking somewhere, listening. "Ahem. Well, as for my own future, I believe it remains unchanged, for here I still stand. And for that reason, I felt quite certain that I could convince you to hold to the timeline that I know. For you see, Cybertron trembled at the name of Megatron..." A broad, wicked grin crosses his features. It almost hurts for him to smile this much. "...but the entire GALAXY shall quake at the name of GALVATRON!" The grin fades. "But... if you are content with the power you have now, then perhaps this fate is of interest to you. But know that comparing your own power, though formidable, to that of your future self is not unlike comparing the sun of this system to a raging Hypergiant!" As brilliant as Megatron is, Cyclonus knows that one weakness he shares with Galvatron is an all-consuming lust for power. Or at least he hopes that'll work. Fragment thinks it's pretty slick, that's for sure. He holds off from applauding though cause he's chill. The spacer's pale face plated features only reflect the faintest sign of being satisfied. Then again, Decepticon leaders are not known for charitability or lack of scrutiny. Megatron has a lust for power. Always has had it, always will. The schemes that he will perpetuate during his time before the Battle of Autobot City will more than demonstrate this lust as time and time again he seeks to improve himself, sometimes to near invincible levels of capability. Just as well known as his lust for power is his massive ego, however. The cannon arm raises upwards then, pointing straight towards the two future Decepticons...before suddenly shifting to the left, and at Fragment's middle torso. A bright flash, and the telltale *BKWOOOOOOOM* issues out along with the telltale flash of purple energy lancing at its hapless target like a spear. Notably of course, the blast is so close that Cyclonus can feel the paint on that side of his body sizzling ever so slightly with the heat's passage. "I. Am. Megatron!" His voice hisses out with equal parts boiling fury and deadly calm, even as smoke trails upwards from the tip of the slightly glowing barrel. "I am -already- the most powerful Decepticon ever to live, the most power Cybertronian to ever live! Do not think to compare me so lightly to your so called future incarnation of myself! The very fact that you quote a different name makes your claims dubious to such a level that I am sorely tempted to tear your head from your shoulders and turn you into our own personal shuttle to return to Cybertron now. The universe fears the name -MEGATRON-. I suggest you remember that!" The cannon barrel shifts over towards Cyclonus then, as if contemplating the very temptation he spoke of. "The -only- thing that saves you, that allows me to even entertain a HINT of what you're saying, is the fact that Soundwave, the one reliable source of success amongst a collection of buffoonery...present company included...vouches that your story has merit. Thus, I will.../think/ over these words. And I assure you, that I will be VERY interested in hearing what your proposal to fix all of this, assuming that I agree it needs to be fixed, will be once I have considered this in due time." Cyclonus is... somewhat concerned that Megatron insists that he's already powerful enough as is, and though he might have exaggerated the increase in power somewhat, Megatron IS wrong, that much he knows. And he fully expects Megatron to blast him off his feet, as Galvatron has done many a time, but is somewhat surprised to see Megatron blast Fragment instead. He turns slightly, watching the aftermath of the shot before turning back to Megatron, bowing his head, and saying, "Yes, of course, Lord Megatron." And mentally he crosses his fingers, hoping that the legendary Decepticon Lord won't force him to stab him in the back. Fragment remembers every single asteroid he has obliterated with his mining grade Phase Cannon. Fracturing and dusting great masses of space debris by bypassing their surface and blowing them up from the inside. Of course he has done this as a matter of work to objects he cared nothing of. And to Megatron, Fragment is just like that. Just something to blast. The energy punches him back high off his feet and lands him in the magma filled center of the crash site crater... and funnily enough his torso now resembles said magma filled crater. Smouldering impact point melting away in drops before cooling and exposing fractured internals. On his back gazing up at the night sky, Fragment's auto diagnostic runs and displays within his visual field. He's alive. Megatron only gave him a spanking it seems. His arm rises fully vertical and he extends a thumb. His voice croaks weakly, "hey... no problem... ugh" and his arm drops. Like a frightened mouse in the threatening shadow of a diving hawk, Amber hasn't moved so much as an inch during this little display, and she has no intentions of moving until the Autobots get back. Her back itches maddeningly, but she still doesn't stir. "Excellent." Megatron coolly responds to the two future cons, turning to one side then wrenching his free hand forward, sending Cyclonus' sword spinning end over end until it impacts blade first into the dirt in front of him. "I will take my leave to confer with my most...-trusted- officers." Another sideways glance to Soundwave, who is already turning to prepare to depart. "And when I return, I will entertain the morbid curiosity that buzzes in my circuits, and listen to your...proposals, only so long as my patience holds. Then of course, there will be the matter of the alien...this Quintesson." His free hand flexes and unflexes once, then twice, as if imaging the egg-shaped shell crushing under his grip. And without so much as a goodbye, he turns and starts to walk away. "Soundwave, with me!" And with that, Megatron takes to the air, fists flung out in front of him as he rises skywards. "As you command, Megatron." Soundwave intones, giving Cyclonus one long, last look before he turns to follow his Lord into the sky. Cyclonus watches Megatron soar away, then reaches down to rip his sword out of the ground. Didn't go quite as well as he hoped. Oddly, he finds Galvatron to have been easier to manipulate into doing the right thing than Megatron. His face curls in disgust as he ponders that. "Bah." Sheathing his sword, he turns, stoops towards Fragment, clasps his arm, and pulls him out of the magma. Briefly he flashes back to when a Sweep did the same for Galvatron. "Soldier," Cyclonus says evenly. "I hope you understand that if I take a certain course of action, that you will follow suit, no matter what that action is, do you understand me?" Fragment wasn't planning on getting up, but when the brass go to the trouble of picking you up, you get up. The lingering smoke from his cooling torso blast damage plumes up over his face briefly. "Sure boss." He doesn't add As long as it looks like it stands a chance of succeeding, of course. Cyclonus eyes Fragment, nodding. He may have picked up on the other thing left unsaid, maybe not. Either way, it's up to him, as usual, to set everything right even when his boss stubbornly doesn't want to... Reidan Wesley continues observing quietly, then shivers as Megatron leaves "... I never liked facing him," he admits Amber MacKenzie still does nothing, other than slowly, carefully scratching her back. She's no coward, but that was a nerve-wracking experience. Why do the Decepticons put up with that kind of treatment? Are they insane? She sighs and quietly mutters something about Decepticon intelligence being a contradiction in terms. Reidan Wesley is not sure where Amber is, but he grimaces, rubbing his bandaged leg carefully with a sigh. Then he turns to poke at the meat, ensuring it was drying quickly and evenly. Cyclonus knows that the Decepticons not only put up with it, they expect it. For only a leader who constantly reminds them of his power can truly lead them. Reidan Wesley looks then to Cyclonus, and asks aloud, "Do you think he will go for it?" Cyclonus turns, fixing his crimson optics on the little human. He decides to humor it this time. "Go for it? Only Megatron knows that, human, and whatever he decides, I shall support him, for better or worse," he lies. "But be assured that your safety is not in doubt as long as Megatron agrees to the truce." "Why thank you," notes Reidan, to the 'reassurance' of sorts. He finally pulls a stick out of the fire, using it to light his pipe. "Which side do you think he will choose? If I may be so bold as to ask of course," he adds, dipping his head respectively "Side?" Cyclonus says, bemused. "You mean the present, or the future? Well. Despite his words, I think Megatron would be tempted by the promise of more power. And besides, he may have little choice in the matter. There are two Primes operational at the moment, and even with Megatron's assistance I feel uncertain that we can beat them both. So, he will almost assuredly agree to our plan." Reidan Wesley nods. "He'll just spin it to make himself look good of course, like all leaders do." He puffs on the pipe, then blows a smoke ring, followed by a bullseye in the middle. "Mmm. And I did mean in this specific situation to get you back to the twenty first century, yes." Cyclonus stares at Reidan. "Yes. Spin." Galvatron likes to make excuses for his retreats, too, of course. "And, there's another reason that I believe Megatron will agree, and that is the fact that I still stand here. I have not abruptly faded away--though I suppose it would be hard to tell the difference if no one remembered I ever was." Reidan Wesley nods in agreement. "Yes. If you did 'fade away'..." he waves a hand, "We would merely have our own memories changed so that you never existed. So no matter what we do, time will be 'correct'. " A pause as he thinks, and then peers up at Cyclonus, rubbing his burnt leg again irritably. "If I may ask a more personal question, my lord..." Cyclonus grins, amused again. "'My Lord?' Are you being polite, or are you actually acknowledging my station above you? Regardless, ask your question." Reidan Wesley smirks. "You have a station FAR above me right now. I am, after all *puff* the cook. And you are a warrior that could easily extinguish my presence without even realizing it. I am VERY well aware of that," he explains gravely. "Why do you follow the 'Trons'... Megatron here, and then Galvatron? It seems a rather crappy deal if I may say so." Cyclonus glowers, no longer amused. "It is not my place to decide what is a 'good deal' for me. I have sworn my loyalty to Galvatron, and nothing can break that oath. I know your world's history, human. Knights and samurai would make similar oaths, and hold to them regardless of whatever they thought of their Lords. Why should it be so surprising that I would do the same? Besides, do not think that I am kind in comparison to Megatron or Galvatron. I have myself physically disciplined lesser Decepticons for offenses as small as failing to maintain proper posture. It is simply our way." A hand is lifted placatingly, and Reidan nods quickly. "When you put it like that, it makes very much sense," he agrees quickly. "It reminds me a bit of a tale, about a Samurai actually. The Samurai was sworn to a cruel lord who used to beat him. Another Lord came and, impressed by the Samurai's loyalty, offered him a better position. The Samurai said no, "If I left, who would protect my Lord and keep after his house? " and then he returned to the lord who beat him. It is easy to, after all, serve a kind master. It is the strongest who survive under a crueler one." He tips his hat then, in a salute to Cyclonus. Cyclonus wonders for a moment if Reidan simply made the tale up, but decides to act as if he believes it. "Hm, as is proper, what good is an oath if you break it over a few little bruises. Anyway, do not feel pity for me. Though I am often the target of Galvatron's anger, I still enjoy a position of considerable power and influence in the Decepticons. And of course, however much he rages at me, Galvatron listens to me above all others." Reidan Wesley nods. "The hard work and the reward for it." He puffs on his pipe again, tipping his hat back. "And very much true. That is why I rarely give my word - because I'll keep it. And the oldest oaths always come first, because they were made first." Cyclonus peers at the human curiously. Why is so he being friendly? After all, he might have to take him hostage if things go badly. Maybe it's just his nature. "Hm. Well. As for that oldest of my oaths, I do not know when exactly I made mine to Galvatron, in truth. I know only that it is there. Perhaps it was programmed into me. Whatever the truth is, it does not matter. I shall follow the oath, as any machine ought to follow its function." Reidan Wesley raises an eyebrow at that. "Interesting turn of phrase. At least, amongst the Autobots, they consider themselves more than mere machines," he admits, fingering the stem of his pipe. Cyclonus chuckles. "Oh, they may think so of themselves, but the truth is, each Autobot, with some exceptions, follows their function, too. Haven't you noticed how extreme their personalities can be? That is because of this devotion to function. Warpath, the tank, is obsessed with gunfire and explosions, and so imitates them in his speech. Ironhide, the security officer, is gruff and not given to trusting easily or accepting poor excuses for misconduct. And Blurr, the courier, embodies every aspect of speed, whether it be in conversation or in action." "I had noticed. Then again humans can be very narrow in their personalities as well. We have the gung-ho soldier, the cook who loves to eat... I suppose it all depends on us, on 'programming' while growing up, and then the humans become fixed in their ways stubbornly," admits Reidan, thinking deeply on this. "But you do bring up very good points about it all. How adaptable ARE the Cybertronians? Adaptation and evolution are key to long term survival, at least for organic species." Cyclonus hms. "Well, I suppose we are actually quite adaptable. Our function guides our destiny but as we are thinking beings we can... change ourselves as necessary, not just physically. Myself, if Galvatron were to... fall," He struggles to say the words, as it's the worst possible outcome he could think of. "it would behoove me to no longer remain a simple advisor and steward of Galvatron's domain, and take command to ensure his vision comes to fruition. And there are many new Decepticons, hailing from Crystal City, whose original functions were not that of the warrior. Some were artisans, stock workers, cleaners, things of that nature--but they all had to learn the art of war in spite of it, though I know that many of them are having trouble adjusting to their new lot in life. Not that it matters to tell you this--I'm sure the Autobots are suffering the same difficulty, perhaps moreso since they foolishly decided to take on those even less inclined to warfare." Reidan Wesley hmms and admits, "I would not know myself. I only go to their places when the EDC visits or needs pizza." He puffs on his pipe and moves to stretch his legs out before him. "But yes, you DO have a more physical superiority than we do - easily adaptable physically, if not mentally. I suppose it balances out, in the end." "I'd say that, unfortunately for your species, your 'adaptability' is not sufficient to overcome the physical and technological advantages that we possess," Cyclonus says. "So, not quite the balance you hoped for. Alas, I am one of the few Decepticons who recognizes the threat humans could pose with improved technology, despite already seeing the dangers in the Militant incursion." "Well, we've done well for ourselves, but yes, you DO have a speed superiority when it comes to adaptability." Reidan Wesley flares his nostrils, and then the cook snorts, "The Militants. Please. Do not associate the better humans with those overgrown bullies. It's insulting." He paused though, glancing to Cyclonus nervously. Was that going too far? Cyclonus actually chuckles. "My, aren't you brave? You should feel fortunate I am more even-tempered than some of my peers, human, or you would be dead and the truce would be a memory. But no, I think I am right. Our analysis of captured Militant prisoners suggests they are every bit as human as you are, and why should you be so surprised? You've had your share of heroes and villains, conquerors and conquered, even without the Militants. Perhaps your thinking isn't quite as flexible as you thought? In fact, I would say that the older a human gets, the more inflexible and entrenched his ways become. It may be that the same occurs to Cybertronians, but I suppose I shall have to live many more millennia before I know for myself." "Brave, or foolish, " admits Reidan, "I have been, and am, both. Look at my actions on the yesterday. Never in a million years would I have thought I would do THAT again..." He taps his pipe a few times, puffing once more. Then a chuckle "Very true, on all points. I try to remain flexible, and at least open - after all, twenty years ago I would not have imagined I would be having this conversation I should admit - but I am also set in my ways, my little habits and predictable moments in my life of unpredictability." "Yes, attacking the Quintesson himself, via means of circumventing the forcefield with your organic body, was quite impressive, though foolhardy," Cyclonus says. "Enough conversation for now. I suggest you find something to do to keep your mind busy, human. For depending on what Megatron decides, life in this quiet little neighborhood could become VERY interesting." "Your warning - or threat, as it may be - is taken to heart. When the Lord Emperor is present, I will try to make myself invisible unless I feel useful," promises Reidan, tapping his pipe out on his rock as he stiffly climbed to his feet, using that pointed stick he used against the Quintesson as a walking stick. "As for my actions... Look up the Devils' Brigade sometime," he grins wickedly, a crazed, Wrecker-like gleam in his eyes for a moment before it was gone. "For now though. I must go and 'self repair'. " He bows deeply, before turning to limp off. Cyclonus nods his head. Odd little human. Well, off to check and see what Starscream's up to, maybe slap him... He wanders off to do that.
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