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Historical Authenticity

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Dynobot slipped in and lined up his shot. Energy sizzled into Megatron's back and he declared, "I am the leader now!"

Megatron spun and glared. "If I wanted to listen to that voice, I'd be playing with Terrorsoar. Try it again!"

Dynobot crossed his arm and shovel. "That's what Starscream is supposed to sound like! You've heard the recordings!"

"Bah, Maximal propaganda, all of it." Megatron used his free hand to help support his his giant cannon, now strapped to an arm rather than resting comfortably on his shoulder.

Dynobot's eyes flared and his shovel drew back into itself. "So you'll accept the portrayal of the Decepticons' greatest Air Commander as an incompetent backstabbing traitor, but the voice is too much for you, 'Megatron'?"

"'Incompetent'? Hardly!" Megatron drawled, gracefully sliding his cannon back into place. "But treachery is our birthright, Dynobot. If you could only bring yourself to accept that, you would go far, yesss."

"The Maximals force us into treachery and then blame us for it," Dynobot said, wearily, taking the 'null-rays' off the side of his arms. "Decepticon honor is the only way our people can become great again!"

"Honor is nothing but a weakness." Megatron said, as if speaking to a very stupid minion (and Dynobot was nothing of the sort). "Go away. And send in Terrorsoar, while you're at it."

"You dare...!" Dynobot growled. He knew the game, now, but Megatron never stopped being able to work him up. "Guard yourself!" And he was on Megatron in a moment.

"Now that's better, my Second." Megatron stepped back and struck, the cannon hot against Dynobot's shoulder as arms and legs and shovels grappled. "Treacherous Starscream, whatever am I to do with you?"

"Kill me like the traitor I am," Dynobot spat back. "If you can." Eyebeams burned against Megatron's helmet, and then against the ceiling for a moment as Megatron howled and forced them out of line with each other.

"You're supposed to grovel." Megatron complained, hands already digging into Dynobot's seams, seducing him rather than fighting him. "I just can't get good help these days..."

"Like slag." Dinobot forced out, shovel wrapping tightly around Megatron and pulling him close. "Next time, you can be Starscream, if you hate how I play him that much."

"Mmm. Perhaps..." Dinobot's cockpit parted under Megatron's quick fingers; lips clanged together as hand sought out spark, and there was no more arguing, for a minute or two.