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No Cybertron For Old Men

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It seemed as if everyone in the room was shouting at once. Minimus could even make out the human delegates of the New Council of Worlds screaming among the din. Finally Windblade put her foot down, literally through the golden podium floor and everyone stopped.

 “We can argue till we all lose our charges and blackout but the point remains the same. This was his final wish and he was right to ask for it.”

 Minimus was sure some wouldn’t agree with that last part but Windblade was the moral compass of The New Council of Worlds so those who disagreed might be inclined to keep it to themselves from now on. He did agree with her though. 

 Optimus Prime was a complicated figure for many reasons. Even though he was often pragmatic about it he did always try to do the right thing. For Earth and Cybertron anyway. He didn’t want to admit that there was another reason he wanted Optimus’s last will and testament fulfilled. A reason he had been thinking about and fretting over for years. A reason he had thrown himself into managing the forging efforts on New Luna One instead of continuing to venture out into the universe with Rodimus. A reason he didn’t think anyone, besides Lug and Anode, would understand. They couldn’t. 

Anyone who hadn’t been a part of the Lost Light would never understand who he had become, they would only ever know Megatron as a war criminal, a dictator, Lord Megatron. He was all of those things but he was also someone who had asked for a way to redeem himself, and more still, had tried. 

The Galactic Council had sentenced him to life in prison for all time, hooked up to a mobius generator so he could not die. To make an example out of him. 

To send a message. Crimes against all life would be eternally punished. 

As much as he loved the law, had always done his best to enforce it and live by it, in this one judgement he found no justice. 

 Not for Megatron and not for all the millions he had killed and maimed, the lives he had ended and ruined. Because of the sheer magnitude of the crimes it essentially rendered all punishments insufficient. 

 Really the only justice to be had would have been reparations; a lifetime of servitude and atonement. Which seemed to be what Megatron had ultimately wanted, spending 700 hundred years fighting for freedom in the Functionist universe, traveling on the Lost Light and saving folks around their own universe. Yet he had gone quietly. 

According to Rodimus he didn’t protest when Prowl informed him of his second trial, didn’t try to find a way around his sentencing, he never lied about who he was and what he’d done.

 Minimus had done his best as Ultra Magnus to represent Megatron as defense council. His impassioned final arguments for a lifetime of making amends had fallen on uncaring audials. Minimus originally wanted them to allow Megatron to help him on New Luna One with the forging efforts. There was a sort of poetic tilt to it, someone who had killed millions working to bring thousands of new lives into the world. Protecting, nurturing, loving; instead of destroying, killing, and hating. The Galactic Council didn’t see his point. They didn’t understand that Megatron wanted some way to make amends even if he never could. 

Minimus had watched him be hooked up the machine, watched his optics power down, had wanted so desperately to hold his hand. Instead he had left him there alone in Garrus-10, suspended in eternal stasis. 

He was powerless to liberate him and it had slowly been eating away at him, rusting his sparkcase out. But somehow in his death Optimus had done what Minimus had only dreamed of. He had laid the groundwork to free Megatron.

The newly made Mistress of Flame Pyra Magna stood and looked out at the whole council regally. “I did not always agree with Optimus Prime, in fact I often felt he was unworthy of that title. But in this judgement I hold with his reasoning. We as a species, as a people, have suffered enough. There is no justice to be gained in more oppression. Those who seek to make restitution should be freed. Those of lesser crimes should be freed to live their lives. I would even be so bold as to suggest some sort of structured release for him . Imprisonment is a tool of war. We are no longer at war.”

The chatter started again after that little speech but it quickly fell to silence when Elita 1 stood and addressed Windblade directly. “Are you seriously proposing we let your planet’s greatest war criminal run around the universe free and clear simply because Optimus Prime was naive enough to still care for his evil counterpart? I know you’re an idealist but I didn’t think you were such a fool. Not only could this harm us directly by Megatron returning to his old megalomaniacal ways but if the Galactic Council figures out we’ve disregarded their ruling we will lose our very tenuous place in it AND be sanctioned most likely! Bumblebee, you’re the representative to the Galactic Council, what do you think of this madness?”

Bumblebee had been silent throughout this entire argument but he nodded toward Elita 1. “The Galactic Council would see it as an act of betrayal most likely. That doesn’t mean I agree with you. I...I knew him after he laid down his fusion cannon and I believe that he wanted to try to make it right. We all know he can’t ever truly do that but he wanted to try. That is reason enough for me to listen to Optimus’s last wish.” 

Windblade was gearing up to respond when Minimus stood up abruptly. Only the bots on either side of him noticed at first, then he stepped up onto the seat of his chair and addressed the whole council. He knew what he had to do.

“Although I am no longer the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord I am still intimately familiar with the law. In their ruling the Galactic Council specified that Megatron be confined for the rest of his life and to never leave the watchful eye of the Cybertronian Justice Department. They never said that that imprisonment had to be on Garrus-10 or even in this solar system.

We could honor Optimus Prime’s final request and still keep to the letter ruling of the Galactic Council if Megatron was sent offworld, to a mostly uninhabited planet to live out the rest of his life naturally while being supervised by someone, or a group on the behalf of the Justice Department.” 

Elita 1 arched a brow at his words and then smoothly replied.“Oh? Are you volunteering to be his personal jailer Minimus Ambus?”

He was in a way. He didn’t think of himself as a prison warden in this case though. Minimus was willing to do it. He didn’t let her rile him up about it. 

When he responded it was to directly address Windblade. “We can discuss the details of my proposal more fully in private but my declaration to the New Council of Worlds represents my official stance on how to resolve this issue. I am currently in charge of the New Luna One repopulation efforts but would gladly offer my services in any endeavor you need me for. Including taking on the role of supervising Megatron in his...limited freedom.”

He heard grumbles and whispers among the other council members. Bumblebee was smiling at him though and Windblade looked very pleased with his response.

She addressed all those gathered there. “I believe that Minimus has put forward the one, and only, viable response to this problem. If you disagree, feel free to put forward additional solutions for our immediate review if not then we will vote on whether or not to abide by Optimus Prime’s dying wish tomorrow. With that I believe we should hear closing statements and adjourn for the day.”

Pyra Magna cleared her throat and stood to her full height, her optics resolute and focused on Windblade.“I have spoken with the human delegates and Arcee, the leader of the New Cybertron-Earth bots, and we all support Minimus Ambus’s proposal.”

That really got the whispers and rumbling complaints going but Windblade once again called for silence and then announced the end of the session. Pyra Magna, Arcee and the humans would be returning to Earth by space bridge that afternoon which was probably why she had wanted to cast her vote in favor today. Still it had really kicked the hornet’s nest, as the humans would say. 

He was nervous, but also prepared to defend his position even if people got nasty about his past with Megatron. Windblade motioned for him and Bumblebee to follow her to her office on the ship. Cybertron itself was a sea of debris but the surrounding moons still supported a population and Windblade commuted between them and Earth’s solar system on her flagship the Tellistrad

She only knew his side of the story. Windblade hadn’t really met Megatron after his contrition but she had listened to him and Rodimus when they had campaigned for Megatron’s release after the return of the Lost Light . Windblade also trusted Bumblebee, and his opinions on Megatron had also been favorable. She had admitted to him only ever seeing Megatron through Starscream’s nightmares while they shared the same mind but she was willing to believe that anyone could change. And that everyone who wanted one, deserved a second chance. 

The other members of the Galactic Council hadn’t agreed with her “naive optimism” and had instead listened to Prowl’s recommendation of eternal imprisonment. In their closing statements several even implied that Minimus had been seduced by Megatron and that was why even a former enforcer of the Tyrest Accord was testifying in his favor. 

Those Council members had made it sound more sordid than it ever had been. They had been captain and first officer, then friends, nothing more. No matter how much people would like to speculate. 

No matter how much Minimus himself had often dreamed of being more. 

Now was not the time to think of what could have been. He was so very close to helping his friend gain some sort of life and freedom back. 

When Cybertron had been torn asunder by Unicron, Prowl had evacuated Garrus-10 but Minimus had worried he had left Megatron there to die. When he had evacuated to Earth with the rest of New Luna One he had tried not to confront him about it but to his shame he had definitely gotten into a shouting match with Prowl. 

It turned out that Megatron was transported with the rest of the prisoners in Garrus-10 safely out of the death maw of Unicron to undisclosed space. But of course now Prowl wanted to know why Minimus cared so much about possibly the greatest evil Cybertron had ever produced enough to berate him over his care. Minimus had been livid. Though he was using all of his restraint to be cordial to Prowl after he not so subtly implied he had been compromised by his personal feelings for Megatron. 

Of course Prowl was right but Minimus had always been a mech of order and law, having all of that questioned and sullied was unacceptable. The two hadn’t really spoken since. After Megatron’s second trial Minimus had moved to New Luna One to oversee and help coordinate the raising of thousands of new sparks. He had also moved there because that’s where they were keeping Megatron. He didn’t dare ask Prowl to visit him, he knew how that would be viewed and sneered at. But somehow just knowing their sparks were in the same city made him feel slightly less like he had abandoned him. 

Which was something his mind was stuck on loop repeating. That he could have done more to save his friends. Not just Megatron but all of them, all the friends he had lost during that long and bloody war. All the friends he had lost afterwards to petty and violent conflicts even though they were supposedly at peace. 

Optimus Prime was dead and his loss had left a hole in their society. For better or for worse Optimus was a bonding force that held them all together. And his death had reminded Minimus of another of his failures. A failure he had shared with the Prime. Their inability to save Megatron might not have been something Optimus knew they had in common but it was what bound them most closely. 

Optimus Prime had gone to his grave with this regret and had tried to leave something behind that might have helped his old friend one last time. Minimus wasn’t about to let that hope slip away, for both their sakes. No matter how selfish it was he was going to free Megatron in Optimus’s name. And for himself. 

He missed him. 

Every time he lay down exhausted to recharge, visions of their time together on the Lost Light came back. Small simple things, not even all the battles they weathered, but that little crease between his optics as he listened to Rodimus make an especially heinous pun. The smile he gave Minimus when they had managed to recalibrate the quantum fuel release valve to make the Lost Light more energy efficient. The small carefully written glyphs he left on the duty datapads in relation to various changes in the roster. Noted, with thanks . His lips as he read some poetry or literature in their shared office. Even though he was reading silently sometimes his lips formed words as if to help him sound them out. 

Minimus was smitten then but didn’t dare show any signs. 

Just hidden glances and desires always cut off and stuffed away deep down inside. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had anything to distract him from these inconvenient longings. The Lost Light was like a distraction generating engine. There was always someone getting up to something world bendingly dangerous or foolish or, in Brainstorm’s case, both. 

He had regretted at times not trying to at least tell Megatron how he felt but in the end, when they didn’t find the Knights, he had dreaded their return to Cybertron. There would be no stopping Megatron’s eternal incarceration or more likely his execution and that hardly seemed like a good time to confess his ill advised feelings.

That was possibly the worst time to tell someone you had fallen in love with them actually. 

He wasn’t good at grand declarations to begin with and confessing at the last minute before one of them was going to die just seemed cruel. Instead he had held his tongue, had told Megatron he wouldn’t forget who he had become and what he had tried to do while with them. 

That seemed to have been enough because Megatron had smiled gently at him as they hooked him up to the mobius generator. Minimus had tried to smile back but he knew it was pained as he watched his optics go wide and then dark and empty. That sight haunted his dreams more often than any of his memories of the war, the Primal Vanguard, or his time with the Wreckers, that usually made up his darkest nightmares. 

He had taken a week off work for the first time in his functioning and had contacted Rodimus. 

They went on a three-day bender together and had woken up in the middle of a bar fight before having to run from the New Luna One police. Rodimus missed Megatron too, just not the same way Minimus did. 

In fact it was his worrying for Rodimus that actually helped him claw his way back to some sort of normalcy after what happened to Megatron. Rodimus didn’t just miss him, he missed the whole crew, he missed his ship, he missed exploring the galaxy with his friends. Minimus knew that deep down Rodimus missed having a purpose. 

Without the Lost Light he was struggling to keep his surprisingly delicate sense of self importance alive. The only problem with losing that was it was a huge part of Rodimus’s spark. He was a good leader and a good friend, but he was also deeply insecure and needed constant validation and praise to remain semi-functional. So Minimus had dedicated himself to making sure Rodimus didn’t drink himself to death every night and Rodimus had kept him from thinking about his own ghosts. It had all come to a head when Unicron attacked and that was when he had snapped. 

In the last month he had been avoiding everyone he knew from the Lost Light and everyone he had known as the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord. But when Windblade had sent him a comm about the contents of Optimus’s Will and called a meeting of the New Council of Worlds, the first after Optimus’s sacrifice and the evacuation of Cybertron to Earth, he knew he had to attend. 

New Luna One hadn’t nominated a delegate so he put himself forward as a candidate and since no one else wanted the post he had gotten it. The whole of Cybertronian society spread out over many worlds was meeting for the first time on Windblade’s ship in neutral territory outside the orbit of New Luna One. 

The fact that they were meeting to discuss whether to free Megatron as per Optimus Prime’s last wishes, meant he had to attend. He had made a plan, pouring over the 700 page ruling for Megatron’s eternal imprisonment and the exact wording of Optimus’s last will and testament. He had consulted with several lawyers and had lost many a night’s recharge over worrying he would somehow mess this up. 

Windblade closed the door to her office behind them and motioned for him and Bumblebee to sit, she naturally had several seats of different sizes in front her desk so he did. As soon as they were seated she got right to the point. “Are you sure this is what you want Minimus? There’ll be no going back from this commitment if you make it.”

That almost made him smile, he had been committed to this for longer than she could ever know. He smoothed his features out to a professional calm when he answered. “I’m sure. As you know I value loyalty and duty as much as I value justice. My plan is the best delivery of all these ideals. Don’t worry Windblade. I don’t have any regrets and I won’t be changing my mind.”

She broke out into a very genuine smile at his words and nodded. “I will do everything in my power as First Delegate to make sure that your proposal is approved and that the transition moves smoothly. I can’t guarantee any particular planet that you will be moved to or the conditions on said planet above it being hospitable to Cybertronian life. I’m sorry but there are only so many strings I can pull when the Galactic Council is involved. Bee?” 

Bumblebee appeared uncomfortable since they had arrived in her office and was wincing slightly as he spoke. “I don’t have much good will with the Council yet, Cybertron hasn’t exactly been friendly with any of the member worlds in the past. Yes, I am aware that is largely Megatron’s fault.” He said the last part sarcastically over his shoulder, almost as if he was speaking to someone else. 

If Windblade noticed it she didn’t acknowledge his strange way of speaking. “I’ve had a chance to review your proposal for future construction and establishment of relevant facilities on whatever planet the New Council decides to ship you off to and I must say I’m impressed. We are short on resources right now due to the rebuilding of various settlements in the flotilla. I am afraid we might only be able to offer you access to data and energon, not construction materials. Although I see in your proposal you mention acquiring such things on the Galactic Market using your own savings.”

She turned to Bumblebee then. ”Do you think you could ask around to see if anyone would be willing to cut a deal on prefabbed materials while in Galactic Council space Bee?”

Bumblebee ex-vented heavily and shook his head. “Yeah I guess we’re doing this then. Alright. I can ask around and get back to you, that is one thing I’m glad you included in your proposal. Knowing the Justice Department I wouldn’t be surprised if they shipped you off to some rustball without a long range cybernet connection. Open lines of communication between us and wherever you two end up will be vital to the success of your project.”

Minimus raised a confused optic ridge at Bumblebee apparently speaking to himself again before Windblade drew his attention. “Good luck Minimus! Please know that we’re rooting for you. You aren’t alone in your support of a second chance for him.”

Bumblebee muttered to his side. “Well most of us here are rooting for you two anyhow.” Windblade gave the space next to Bee a surprisingly rueful look before she turned to smile at Minimus. 

He smiled at both of them and then nodded once more before making his way back down to the Tellistrad ’s shuttle bay. Once he was back to his mostly empty apartment on New Luna One tried to recharge on his slab, one of the only things in his room, but he couldn’t find peace. He went over his proposal again, each time finding a new clause or addendum to add for clarification of wording and purpose. 

The idea had started off simply enough. Recreate the Lost Light

Not the ship itself per say but the environment it had engendered. The bonding, the friendship, the family that the crew eventually formed. Minimus knew that the New Council of Worlds could never convince the Galactic Council to let Megatron roam the universe now that they had handed down a sentence so it would have to a stationary ship of sorts. 

Then the idea came to him to build a community. Like Little Cybertron on Bikini Atoll on Earth. They could exile Megatron to a planet, once he was there they couldn’t really stop anyone from visiting him if they wanted to. And Minimus was sure not many would want to but if word got out that this community was good, was helpful, then more would come. 

They’d need medical and science facilities, for research and also for healing. They’d need energon mining and processing plants. They’d need builders and engineers for faster than light ships and traveling. They’d need teachers. Psychiatrists. Janitors and Groundskeepers. They’d need people who studied and worked with xeno-ecology and biologics. They’d need folks who knew how to protect others if they ever decided to branch off and help people around the galaxy again like they did on the Lost Light

This new place on this new planet could be a base of operations for dispatching rescue or aid missions. Cybertronians could work together to try and patch up all the holes their war had punched in the universe. 

Minimus hoped Megatron would want to be a part of this. He knew that folks like Velocity and Nautica would, Drift and Ratchet might as well. Brainstorm and Perceptor could also be persuaded to join up as long as he told them there was research and exciting new scientific possibilities to be had. Minimus knew he could convince Rodimus to join up if he got to go out exploring again and was given a sufficiently important title. He wasn’t so sure about Cyclonus and Tailgate as they were still off enjoying their honeymoon somewhere far off in the next galaxy over. Swerve would be on board though, and maybe even Fortress Maximus, Roller, and the Scavengers. 

He had acquired everyone on the Lost Light ’s hailing frequencies. The least he could do was ask. If his proposal to make this new community was approved he would start sending out comms. Minimus started composing what he would ask of each of them while he lay awake. No recharge would come now that he was really going over the minutiae.   

The next day came too slowly and also at a breakneck speed. 

He found himself exhausted, sitting straight and fully alert at the vote of the New Council of Worlds on what to do with Megatron. Windblade put his proposal for a new offworld facility designed to render rescue help forward with her full support. 

There were those who were opposed it, most noticeably Prowl made an appearance to speak on behalf of the naysayers. He suspected it was Elita 1 who brought him in on the negotiations. She was still vying for Windblade’s position after all. 

His speech was impassioned and Minimus was forming a rebuttal to all his points when Pyra Magna actually stood to defend Minimus and his resolution. She did so eloquently, expressing both the logical and religious implications of letting Megatron live out the rest of his natural life in humble servitude to a greater good. Instead of being kept alive, frozen and unchanging to remind them of all their missteps and misdeeds. 

In the end it came down to factions, just not Autobot vs. Decepticon. 

The council approved Minimus’s proposal, known as Item 47: Project New Haven, 18:12. Most of the people who voted in favor of it were bots who hadn’t fought in the war. All the humans voted in favor as well, which surprised him. They had suffered under Megatron’s rule personally and yet seemed to have a greater capacity to forgive, possibly because their lifespans didn’t allow time for a proper grudge. They were apparently the only species who still had hope that people could change. Bumblebee and Minimus were the notable exceptions. 

Windblade sent him a comm on his datapad full of relevant information about when and where he should meet the prison transport and what he was being allocated in resources. Of course she couldn’t tell him where they were being sent, he wasn’t even sure she knew yet. They would be leaving as soon as possible. Probably to stop anyone from having second thoughts about what they were doing. Minimus didn’t have any and he never would.

She also mentioned he would need to appoint a new delegate for New Luna One to the council. He was considering Anode. She was the lead obstetrician in charge of the forging efforts and she and Lug were doing a wonderful job of managing it all. Minimus had been handling most of the paperwork/bureaucracy and she had been down with the medics in the forge. 

He sent her a quick comm asking if she wanted the position and explaining why he was leaving. He got one back immediately.

Anode: Primus Mims! Do I have to do anything special? Wear a funny hat? Is there a lot of paperwork in being New Luna One’s delegate? Am I gonna have to find someone to do your job now or do you think you can keep up with all the paperwork while lightyears away and distracted by running your own planet or something? 

Also I’m so happy for you! Both Lug and I will totally come visit you two once you’re all set up just give us, uh maybe 6 months advance notice as we don’t want to leave in the middle of a new crop of sparklings. They’re clingy little darlings, as you know. 

Minimus chuckled at her response. Both she and Lug had been excellent at distracting him these last few years. He had avoided the nursery carefully at first but eventually Lug had cajoled him into helping out with the newsparks. The less active ones would let him hold them while he dictated notes and addendums aloud to help settle them down. He found that they also responded well to his singing of Earth songs. 

When Anode had first caught him singing she had teased him for days. Then she realized how much calmer all the sparklings had been hearing it, so even though she couldn’t carry much of a tune she had started singing to them as well. Everyone had.  

All in all it filled some of the aching hole of not being on the Lost Light surrounded by friends and loved ones. Fortunately, for him, there had been mountains of paperwork to get through as it was the first forging effort in several millennia. It had honestly helped with his anxiety to have to wade through thousands of pages of regulations and stipulations. 

Minimus Ambus: I can still handle the paperwork while I am off planet but you might want to look into hiring someone who can manage onsite operations. As for being a delegate you will have to attend meetings every couple months and vote, but you can do so remotely in most instances. There should be relatively little paperwork unless you’re drafting proposals on the planet’s behalf. No funny hats. 

I cannot speak on Megatron’s behalf but I know I would enjoy a visit from you both. I will prepare a proper time slot for you to come and send you a prompt invitation with adequate advance notice as I respect your work immensely. I wish you both the best of luck in your continued endeavors.

Respectfully Your Friend,

Minimus Ambus  

Anode sent him back a comm full of Earth emoticons blowing him little heart shaped kisses, he rolled his optics while smiling. He didn’t have much to pack and he had already said goodbye to his coworkers so instead he allowed himself a few hours recharge before going for a walk. 

Minimus didn’t consciously realize where his legs were leading him numbly through the darkened streets until he was there. 

The electrified wire gates to the prison made several concentric rings leading up to the hulking navy bulk of Garrus-10 as it sat at the head of a massive black stone plateau. Windblade sent him several dozen pages worth of legal agreements and waivers as he stood there staring up at the prison. Logically he knew he should review them now but his spark was wobbling in his chest and all he could think about was how close they were, how close they would soon be. 

Instead of signing the waivers immediately he had added the location of the prison shuttle and time it would be leaving with him and Megatron to his HUD. A little countdown timer in the upper left hand corner of his vision. He longed to be there when they woke him up. 

Minimus had been the last sight Megatron had seen when he went under and he very much wanted to be the first one he saw when he woke up. Of course Prowl had had ideas of his own on the best way to carry out this plan that he openly despised. He had wanted to add some uplesant modifications to Megatron’s frame that would help keep him trapped wherever they were being exiled to. 

Minimus had managed to stop the Justice Department from essentially collaring him with a proximity bomb around his spark...so far. Any sort of coercive measure other than not being allowed to leave the air space of whatever planet they were supposed to be on had been strictly forbidden in his proposal. He wanted him to be as free as possible. Optimus had wanted him to be entirely free. 

He couldn’t get any closer to the prison without the guard drones being notified so he stood at the far fence, at the foot of the plateau, and watched as the sky changed from purple to orange. The countdown on his HUD was beeping an hour advance warning and he smiled stroking his facial insignia. Today was the beginning of a second chance. For both of them. 

He was precisely on time, waiting outside the loading dock of a blocky gray looking prison shuttle, his hands settled behind his back at military rest. He had taken the walk over to go through all the files Windblade had sent him and sign the consent form to this permanent assignment off world, in triplicate. 

He had also packed a small blue case containing his datapad, some relevant holovids, and a minor survival and medical kit. Just in case The New Council of Worlds, Prowl, and the Justice Department decided to get nasty out of spite and drop them on a frozen or molten world. 

It was Prowl himself who would be seeing them off. 

He had the guards load Megatron onto the ship before Minimus could get much more than a quick glimpse of him. Then he started to inform him of what his responsibilities would be and the rules of what was basically their banishment. He knew all of it already, had essentially written large portions of it. He pretended to listen up until the point where Prowl’s professional tone got noticeably tighter as he mentioned he had imparted the same information he had just given Minimus to the prisoner and he had seemed to have understood it.

He was slightly smug when he spoke. ”I also informed him of the reasons for his freedom, the Last Will and Testament of our dearly departed Optimus Prime and the machinations of his former first officer Minimus Ambus. He didn’t seem to take that very well, but personally, I don’t really care. If I ever have to see him alive again it’ll be 10 million years too soon.”

Minimus wanted to rip Prowl’s head off his shoulders then but instead said through gritted teeth.“ You. Did. What?

Prowl gave a half smile before waving off Minimus’s obvious fury. “I did what was right, unlike the rest of you, though I suppose that was your choice. It doesn’t matter now. I think it would be best for both of you to leave before someone, myself included, decides to shoot you out of the sky.” With that he turned to leave and the boxy brown prison guards followed him, leaving Minimus feeling smaller than usual on the loading dock. He let the rage seep out of him and away down the loading dock before walking inside. 

He passed Megatron strapped in restraints in one of the chairs but didn’t look at him as he activated the launch protocols for the shuttle. The ship had an autopilot that was to take them to their destination as Minimus still didn’t know exactly where they were being shipped off to. He hoped it was somewhere warm, though not actively on fire. 

He watched New Luna One fade into the distance and finally relaxed a little. While still worried about where they were heading at least they were safe for now. He turned to look at Megatron finally and his spark sank. His red optics were dimmed and he was staring at the wall of the shuttle listlessly. 

Minimus wanted to comfort him desperately, even though he knew he wasn’t any good at it. He had been trying to “loosen up” as Rodimus would say, but it was difficult and he still wasn’t skilled at voicing his emotions.

Instead he watched him helplessly for a minute longer before turning back to the controls to get a better idea of where they were heading. He didn’t want to think about how the locking mechanisms on Megatron’s stasis cuffs wouldn’t release until they landed, who knew when.

They were passing through neutral territory it seemed, probably on their way to some now empty world that had once been inhabited by organics. 

He wasn’t expecting it so when Megatron spoke it made him visibly jump as he whirled around to face him. His optics where now staring attentively at Minimus but they still looked impossibly empty. His voice sounded dry and rasping. “I had always suspected someone on the Lost Light would try some sort of foolish, half-cocked, jailbreak scheme. But I honestly never thought it would be you. Hello, Minimus.”

He couldn’t speak, his spark had jumped into his throat and it was pushing his vocalizer shut. Minimus stumbled over to the energon dispenser and filled a cube before walking over to offer it to Megatron. He had to get up on the balls of his feet and Megatron had to lean down slightly to reach the cube, but he drank it delicately until it was empty and Minimus took it away. 

He made to turn to refill the cube before Megatron stopped him with his voice, this time stronger than before. “Thank you but that was plenty. They hadn’t allowed me to refuel since waking me up, though I find I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Minimus set the empty cube down on the seat next to where Megatron was chained down and murmured. “I wonder if anything other than an alarm would happen if I let you out of those blasted restraints now.”

Megatron chuckled darkly. “They didn’t mention it in the briefing but I assume this whole shuttle would self destruct. No precaution too extreme when it comes to me.”

Minimus knew he was trying to make light of a genuine possibility. Which was more than a little concerning, he looked up at him and their optics finally met. 

When Minimus spoke it was much higher and strangled. “I’m so sorry.”

Megatron’s optics fluctuated on and off like he had been slapped and Minimus regretted saying it immediately, it was too late. When Megatron spoke it was low and with his head turned away from Minimus. “I wish I had been there. I know we both suspected we were destined to go together into the Allspark, most likely at each other’s hands. It seems...wrong that he...went on without me.”

Minimus had suspected his thoughts of Optimus were why he looked so devastated. To hear him say it aloud made his spark ache. Their relationship was complicated, to say the least, but Optimus and Megatron had been constant fixed points in each other’s lives for over four million years. He didn’t know what to say to someone when they had lost someone that important to them. “I’m so sorry” wasn’t enough. No words would probably ever be enough. 

Instead Minimus placed his hand on top of Megatron’s that was locked in the stasis cuffs, chained to the wall. Megatron didn’t look down at him. Instead he rotated his hand so that Minimus’s rested inside his own before he closed it gently and held it there. He could do that. Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit but even he couldn’t mess up holding his hand.  

They must have stayed like that for hours. He wasn’t sure how many exactly, but it was long enough for the ship’s proximity alarm to go off. Alerting them that they were rapidly approaching a planet. Minimus carefully removed his hand from Megatron’s and ran over to the controls to try and stabilize their descent. 

They appeared to be in the Globulous star cluster. The medium sized planet in front of them was the dusty red orange color of the Sea of Rust back on Cybertron. There were some patches of purple fauna and a few large bodies of liquid, maybe water. The ship stabilized jerkily on entry as the planet did indeed have an atmosphere. They slowed down as the autopilot appeared to be taking them towards a small silvery colored outpost style structure. It had a tall relay antenna, two small buildings and an energon pump around the back.

The ship landed safely out around the back of the buildings and as soon as the landing gear touched down Minimus hear the fizzle and hiss of Megatron’s restraints releasing themselves. He reached over to put the shuttle in stable docking mode and glanced at some of the planetary readouts from the atmospheric quality. 

Although Cybertronians didn’t breath, a toxic atmosphere could rust or melt them in seconds. All the readouts were coming back Earth-like though, to Minimus’s relatively relieved and untrained optics. So he decided to hit the docking protocol causing the shuttle bay doors to open. There was a small gust of wind when it did but otherwise nothing happened. 

He looked over just as Megatron was gingerly standing up and then rushed over to help him. Megatron tried to wave him off before Minimus stubbornly grabbed his arm and started to help him walk out of the shuttle. Megatron seemed shocked by the amount of physical support he was giving him. This made Minimus smirk. “My point one percenter spark is the load bearing kind. There’s a reason why I could operate the Ultra Magnus armor effortlessly. When functioning optimally I can deadlift 100 times my own weight. 500 times if I have adequate leverage.”

Megatron looked slightly chagrined by that at first, then returned Minimus’s smirk slyly.“I know you’ve used your strength to great effect in battle, but I admit that it never occured to me it could be useful in other...ways as well.”

Minimus had to look away so that Megatron couldn’t see exactly where his mind had gone at that suggestion. His face felt like it was burning bright pink, full of energon now. Megatron probably hadn’t meant it the way Minimus wanted him to mean it. After all, it wasn’t like Megatron had ever flirted with him before. 

Wait. Had he?  

Minimus suddenly realized maybe his infatuation hadn’t been so tremendously one-sided afterall. His spark stuttered and before he could stop them his vents opened and his cooling fans clicked loudly to life. That was a reaction he couldn’t hide and Megatron had definitely noticed. 

Before he could say anything Minimus almost physically dragged him down the loading ramp towards the two small buildings in front of them. It looked like some sort of science outpost. He was relieved that Windblade and Bumblebee had managed to get them sent somewhere with a little protection from the planet’s elements, whatever they turned out to be.

He couldn’t tell what the weather would be like later as it now appeared to be dusk and calm where they were. Minimus was also fighting very hard to tamp down any uncomfortable feelings he was having towards Megatron at the moment, which made focusing on assessing their surroundings more difficult. 

They approached the door, Minimus was still helping Megatron plod along, as he seemed weak from being in stasis so long, when he noticed the door appeared to be code locked. Minimus quickly searched his memories for a code to enter the building. When he couldn’t find one he had to stretch up on his tiptoes again so his optics reached the keypad, it scanned them quickly and then the door turned green before opening. 

At first it was shrouded in the shadowed light of the emergency power strips but as soon as they entered the overhead lights came on to reveal a small laboratory. When they stepped inside the door closed behind them and the laboratory hummed to life as well, the view screens and atmosphere filtration flickered on audibly. It was an older outpost but not a bad one it seemed. 

Minimus looked up at Megatron who was appraising their new home as well. Minimus watched him gaze around curiously as he spoke.“Is it alright if I go make a systems check? I think that door there leads to the living quarters and there must be a recharge slab if you need to rest.”

Megatron gently shook off Minimus’s hands which had been holding his arm and only wobbled slightly before carefully walking over to one of the lab desks and leaning against it. He huffed out. “Do whatever you need to do, you’re in charge. I am just a prisoner here, after all.”

Minimus staggered back like he had been struck. It certainly felt like he had been. His voice was quiet when he responded.“That’s not what this is.”

Megatron waved his hand as if to shoo Minimus away. “Oh I figured as much with all the proposal’s language of ‘rehabilitation’ and ‘service.’ You’re as captive as I am, sent here to fulfill some pithy lip service to a deity no one believes in anymore. There are no more Primes any more. Rodimus still doesn’t count.”

Minimus shook his head violently before he responded firmly. “No. I asked for this. I volunteered to do this so that you wouldn’t be stuck frozen inside yourself for all eternity. That wasn’t justice, that wasn’t reparative, and it certainly wasn’t right. And I used a Prime’s last wishes to free you as best any us could. This isn’t a prison; it is a duty, a way to try and make things right. I won’t apologize for what I’ve done and we’re both going to have to learn to live with it.”

Megatron looked at him harshly before ex-venting deeply. Then he put on his nonchalant attitude again. “We’re also going to have to learn how to live together then because this, right now, isn’t working for me. I was ready to die, I thought it would be the right thing to do, but the council voted to put me in the mobius generator instead. Now they want me to live exiled, isolated, mostly alone, until I die of old age or some organic induced disease. How merciful of them. To top it all off they’ve somehow found me a willing companion who is either too naive or too idealistic to realize he’s being used and discarded by them.”

No, that wasn’t what this was at all! 

He wanted to yell at him and explain to him that he had done this because it was the only option left. Yes he was selfish and foolish, but not for the reasons Megatron thought. Minimus knew exactly what he was committing himself to and he wanted to spend the rest of his days on this planet with Megatron. That he wanted to do that very badly. That together he knew they could build something amazing here on this planet that would help their entire society for millenia to come.  

How did he say all of that without making it sound like a conjunx proposal? 

It very well might be, now that he thought about it.

Minimus wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet though, especially since he wasn’t prepared to tell Megatron how deeply he cared for him. 

His voice was hard and quiet. “I chose to be here. I wrote almost that entire proposal by myself. It is not idealistic to think we can still make a difference, that it is our purpose to do so. I won’t apologize for wanting that.”

Megatron huffed, then he just shook his head. Minimus didn’t look at him as he went to run the diagnostic and inventory on the computer system in front of him. He heard Megatron shifting, then the snick of the door to the living quarters opening and closing behind him. Minimus took a quick glance over his shoulder to see that he was really gone before he sagged against the computer panel in front of him. 

What was he doing? 

Somehow he had already managed to get off on the wrong foot with Megatron. Wait was that how that idiom went? Pit. Now he was going to have to resign himself to living with someone he loved, who in turn hated him, for several thousand years until one or both of them died. Hopefully of natural causes and not gutting each other. 

The prospect was churning his tanks so he tried to focus on what the computer was telling him about the outpost and the surrounding land. They were on a planet called Diose-8, it was a medium sized rock-based planetoid capable of supporting life with an atmosphere and liquid h2O. Well, for organics it seemed very hospitable. It also had sizable scattered deposits of energon. From the log of the scientist who had previously inhabited the station the pump out back was bringing up enough to support a whole battalion for some time if needed. 

The main reason this planet hadn’t been strategically useful during the war and was mostly forgotten was because of how far away from everything else it was. The nearest space station was over 250 light years away, the nearest Galactic Council protected world 3,500 light years away. Which wouldn’t have been much to a quantum ship like the Lost Light but for their prison shuttle after it used its only jump charge to get them here, it was a long journey. 

Which would probably be one way, they wouldn’t have enough room in the shuttle to hold all the fuel they would need to get far enough away that no one would recognize them and their ship’s light jump charge was empty. Minimus also surmised that their shuttle was rigged to explode if they tried to fly it to any offworld coordinates. There would also be regular patrol scans of Cybertronian justice division ships and drones in the region checking to see if their life signs were still planetside.

They were effectively trapped here on this quiet, empty, orange dust ball. Before Minimus could have a panic attack about that, he decided to go check out the rest of the small facility for a perimeter check. He was going to save the living quarters for last for obvious reasons. 

The energon pump out back was silently churning the magenta mineral into a small refiner and there were two pipes that led back into the living quarters and the laboratory. Everything there appeared to be in working order if a bit dusty from the red sand that was the top soil on this entire planet. He resisted the nagging urge to clean it. The environmental sweep readings of the ship and the read outs the laboratory computers had given him had informed him this planet was mostly arid steps of red soil, with a few small inland seas, and larger plains of purple grass-like shrubbery. There were native life forms but most of them were small and herbivorous. Over all the planet seemed eerily silent and devoid of anything interesting. The perfect place to store bots you never wanted to see or hear from again. Minimus shuddered at the thought. They weren’t forgotten, not yet. 

There didn’t appear to be any different terrain surrounding the station, it was completely exposed, which was both a good and bad thing. On one hand they were easy to see, but then so would be anyone approaching the outpost from the air or the land. Not that he expected many visitors yet as they had to be approved by the New Council of Worlds first and could only visit during set times and for limited lengths. At least until he had constructed more permanent dwellings and facilities. That would come later.  He had figured it would be just him and Megatron for a time and that thought hadn’t originally bothered him. It still didn’t, even though his companion appeared to hate the idea right now. 

Minimus approached the prison ship they had arrived on and made sure its fuel levels weren’t too depleted in case they needed to make a quick escape later. After sealing up the ship for the night he came to the realization he was still acting as if there was a war on. Old habits and old dogs dying hard, something like that, they said on Earth. He was sure Verity would have made fun of him for mangling that, although he had learned that misremembering idioms was called a malaphor. He liked that there was at least a word for it. 

He’d probably never see her again, but he had made his peace with that after the Wreckers had disbanded. So many friends out of reach, most of them forever now. 

This thing he wanted to build, to create here, seemed like a new start though. Maybe they would all see each other again someday after all. Hope wasn’t something he had ever feared to have. With that realization he made his way back towards the second building, the living quarters. 

When he entered Megatron was reclining on a recharge slab in the furthest corner of the room, his optics focused on a datapad in one of his hands with the other draped across his chest. 

Minimus caught him make a quick glance in his direction, otherwise he didn’t acknowledge his presence so Minimus ignored him as best he could as well. 

The living quarters were nicely appointed. Big enough for two or three large bots to sit comfortably around the table next to the energon dispenser. There was a large screen to watch media on the wall opposite the recharge slabs which were lined up next to each other. There were two spacious enough for two big bots to sleep front to back on, and two smaller ones for an individual or a minibot. 

Megatron had taken the largest one closest to the left back wall. Next to the smaller slabs on the right there was a doorway that led to a set of new looking washracks. This place was nicer than his apartment on New Luna One had been. He wasn’t about to say so though, after doing a quick walk around the space he sat down on the small recharge slab farthest from Megatron’s.

He decided to read as well. If this was how it was going to be the least he could do was enjoy a good novel. It was an Earth story about a crew on an aquatic vessel and their captain’s all encompassing desire to hunt a mythical water beast to the detriment of himself and his crew. It was something that seemed just fantastical enough to not be too familiar. 

Also he liked the way the protagonist spoke to the reader as if he was a dear friend. Minimus needed some friendly interaction right now even if it was only with the book on his datapad. He must have fallen into recharge at some point because he jolted awake suddenly. It was dark in the living quarters.

Immediately he turned to look at Megatron and his spark sank when he saw that he wasn’t there. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he should check the lab first instead of the shuttle. His worried feet carried him out the front door faster than he could argue with them.

As soon as he was outside he realized his fears were unfounded. The flatness of their surroundings allowed him to see the hulking dark shape of Megatron some distance from the outpost. Not far enough away that Minimus couldn’t see his face was upturned to the sky. He followed Megatron’s line of sight up and gasped. 

The expanse of space above the planet was ablaze with billions of stars. The inky black fabric of it only peeked through in a few places. It was beautiful and it had been a long time since he had seen a sky like this. Both Cybertron and Earth were full of light pollution so seeing the night sky was a bit difficult. New Luna One was better as it wasn’t heavily populated yet, though its sky almost looked pure black at night. He also hadn’t been inclined to look up much as of late. 

While in space on the Lost Light the vastness looked like it had less stars than it actually did because the dark void around them loomed larger. Minimus stared up for a moment before slowly approaching Megatron’s seated form. He didn’t want to disturb him. He did feel the need to be near him, just in case. In case of what his mind wouldn’t really supply but he felt the need nonetheless for the illogical nature of it. 

When he got within about ten paces he tried to speak.“Megatron?”

He held his hand up to silence Minimus, and at the same time motioned with his other hand for Minimus to sit next to him. He did so delicately, then followed Megatron’s pointing finger to a smaller star in the great expanse of the sky. 

When he spoke it was so deep and rumbling Minimus felt it through the ground they were sitting on and tried not to shiver. “See that light there? That’s Cybertron. So small and far away it seems almost insignificant. I fought a 4 million year war for it. I coveted that little light and killed millions, maybe billions, for it. One of the greatest bots who ever lived died so that that light wouldn’t go out. All the way out here among so many other stars it seems like so much wasted time, wasted life.”

He heaved his massive shoulders and continued in almost a whisper. “I should feel relieved the war is well and truly done now, without him. I just feel old. I never told him goodbye. I had thought the last time we saw each other would never truly be the last. Or I had hoped that that would be the case. I don’t know. But there is always a last time and of course I missed the opportunity to say it. That was just always how it was with us. I hated him, everyone knew that, but I also loved him. Though it has been a very long time since I was in love with him.”

Minimus didn’t dare move or speak. What Megatron was telling him was intensely intimate and private. He knew he would say the wrong thing unless he thought about it for a considerably long time. Even then he still might, as his own feelings were starting to make his spark gutter. 

After that it was quiet. The sky above them shimmering and flickering through the atmosphere of the planet. Minimus was fighting a desperate internal battle. Finally he couldn’t bear not to say anything, no matter how bad he was at offering comfort. 

He clicked and cleared his vocalizer, placing his hand heavily over his chest to soothe his aching spark before murmuring. “I do know what it’s like to not be able to have a proper goodbye. I can understand wanting to give up all sorts of things, make all sorts of promises and bargains, just to have that one chance at speaking to someone again. Have you thought about writing about it? About what you would have said if you could have? It might help.”

He watched as Megatron turned towards him, an odd look in his optics. He wondered if he’d put his foot in his mouth again. That one was definitely the correct phrasing of that human idiom, he knew that one all too well. 

When Megatron spoke there was no heat or anger in it. “All of us have lost so much and have willingly given up so much more. I know you think this is some sort of fresh start for me but what am I supposed to do trapped on this planet until my processors give out? How can I help anyone or make up for any of my many wrongs if I’m stuck here staring at all the other places out there that could use some help? As for my writing I’ve written about him more times than I can remember, pulled it up and deleted it from my processor hundreds thousands of times. Written to him more times than that and deleted those just as often. I was sitting with my datapad earlier and none of the words seemed right. There was nothing left that I could say to him or about him that I hadn’t already written ten times over. His loss has left me speechless, it seems.” 

The sheer magnitude of that came down hard on his shoulders. He should have known it would be like this. They had never talked like this until their last round of drinks together on the Lost Light. At the time he had felt cheated, knowing they’d never speak like that again. But now they were and his processor was doing some heavy lifting trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t make him come off like an insensitive bag of bolts. 

Minimus decided to change the subject as he had been thinking about the steps of his proposal. How they could still help people all the way out here. He wanted him to have read it and liked it, agreed to it. He had worked so hard to make sure it would work. That they could do something that would make a difference. 

Instead he asked. “What did you want to do before the war? Be a poet? A novelist? Or was that back during the Functionalist Regime? What about before you were taught that you should be limited in careers by your alt-mode, what did you want to do?”

Minimus knew he had been a miner but had not been satisfied with his place in the world and as such had written a great deal of very convincing and incideniary anti-Functionist propaganda. Megatron looked him directly in the optics when he responded.“I wanted to be a medic. All the schools refused to take me even though I passed all the entrance exams. It was one of the experiences that catalyzed my radical anti-Functionalist writings. When I was trapped for 700 years in the Functionist Universe I tried my hand at it, I didn’t have anyone to study from though, or any datapads on the proper methods, but I learned how to patch bots up well enough.”

Minimus almost jumped with excitement but held his composure. Learning to be a medic was something Megatron could do here if he wanted. It would work within the framework of his plan. Pit, if Megatron wanted to become a professor and poet that would work as well. Minimus’s ideas were surprisingly flexible, especially for him.

His tone was even and warm when he responded. “You can learn to be a better medic here if that is what you want to do. We certainly have the time for it. The lab has several holoprojectors and although we have limited access to the cybernet I’m sure medical training materials will be something I can get Bumblebee and Windblade to greenlight. Also I volunteer myself to help you practice any diagnostics or procedures that can’t be done digitally.”

Megatron seemed amused by his enthusiasm but his response was exasperated. “To what end? Even if I learn to be a brilliant medic to rival Ratchet himself the only people who would ever benefit from my knowledge are you and I. That doesn’t seem very philanthropic to me.”

Minimus had been waiting for that question. “I don’t intend for us to be only inhabitants of Diose-8 forever! I was organizing the housing and raising of new sparks forged on New Luna One. I now know how to run large scale medical and housing organizations. When I wrote my proposal I was hoping we’d be sent to a place like this. With its calm, quiet plains this might be the perfect location for bots fighting the ghosts of war, trying to reintegrate into society. Trying to find a new purpose, to heal. And for that we’d definitely need medics. We’d also need counselors and professors. Exo-biologists and botanists. Groundskeepers and construction and maintenance folks. All sorts of bots could be welcome to come here and work on themselves. I want this to be a sort of hub or base for people who want to coordinate rescue and disaster relief as well, sending out teams of mechs to provide aid all over the galaxy.”

Megatron scoffed and shook his head trying to brush his idea off. “I doubt a bunch of shell-shocked bots would want to come to the middle of nowhere, only to find out that the most reviled genocidal slagger in history is now their new janitor. Let alone their new doctor.”

Minimus wasn’t going to back down on this though, he squared his shoulders and sat up straighter. “That can be part of it. They may hate and fear you at first but you’ll show them, like you showed all of us, that you’re trying every day to make amends. Even though you know you can never erase what happened you can help build a way forward. And sure they may still hate you at the end of their stay here but that won’t matter. This isn’t about being liked, it’s about improving the lives of others. It is about service.”

Megatron smiled warmly at him and Minimus’s spark flickered. This time he caught his cooling fans before they clicked on revealingly. He was much worse at hiding his feelings from Megatron as his medium sized self versus when he was wearing the Ultra Magnus armor. It was a new type of vulnerability he had to be aware of. 

When Megatron spoke it was surprisingly forlorn. “Things are rarely that easy, especially things like building new relationships. That is what it will take to do something like what you’re proposing. And I’m not sure about you personally, but I’ve never been good at making long lasting friendships. That is what we will need if this is the path you want to take going forward.”

There was hope there in his words. It seemed like Megatron wanted to do something like he proposed but didn’t believe it was possible. Well, that was something Minimus had a lot of, hope. He had always had it, even during the war. It had never left him, even when he had lost his purpose as the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord after the end of the war. Even when he had joined the Lost Light as Rodimus’s second in command on a futile journey into the unknown. Minimus hadn’t even lost it when Megatron had been condemned to eternal life imprisonment. And he certainly had it now. He was going to share it with Megatron. That much he could do. 

He wanted very badly to reach out and hold his hand as he spoke. Instead he turned to him and looked up directly into his optics.“We already have a lot friends who want to help, more than you’re probably willing to believe right now. And what else are we gonna do? Just sit out here till we rust? We have to at least try to do something .”

Megatron looked like he wanted to argue but bit it back and instead grumbled. “We’ll see. You are technically in charge of this whole endeavor so I guess it’s up to you.”

Minimus wasn’t having it, he retorted quickly. “Oh no, no! We are co-captains this time! This is a joint effort, if you don’t want to do that we’ll find something else that you do want to do and we’ll go from there. We’re in this together from now on!”

Megatron smirked at that. “What if I just want to sit out here and rust?”

Minimus wanted to argue with that, instead he calmed his nerves and said. “Well if that’s what you want, I can’t stop you but I don’t have to join you.”

He hopped up and dusted his aft off before starting to walk back towards the two buildings. He didn’t stop when Megatron called his name but did stop when he grabbed his arm and spun him back around. “Minimus, wait. I’m just being contrary. Some fault in my spark makes it so I always have to be, especially at the worst of times.”

He did genuinely seem apologetic and he was about to say apology accepted. Instead he looked up and their optics met. Megatron’s concerned face shaded by a billion stars was just so beautiful he lost the ability to respond. To his utter mortification he must have been telegraphing his desire for Megatron to kiss him right then very loudly because the bigger bot let go of his arm with a soft “oh.”

Minimus’s face was burning magenta as he called out a hurried goodnight and fled back to his small recharge slab. He immediately offlined his optics as soon as he practically threw himself onto the berth. He couldn’t bear to watch Megatron awkwardly enter and make his way to his own slab. 

He heard him return though and tried to still the pounding of his spark and recharge properly but it was more difficult than it had been even the previous night when he was alone back on New Luna One. He was so close to him and his thoughts kept racing with what-ifs and what-haves. He had messed it up so early with his now easily readable face. Minimus didn’t want to ruin their friendship because he was acting like a lovestruck newspark. If things were awkward between them because of his feelings it would be excruciating to work together. Let alone live together for the next, possibly millions, of years. 

To desperately distract himself from an oncoming panic attack he checked his internal comms. He had sent one to Rodimus earlier after comming Anode with his proposal attached and all the relevant details about he could contact him and Megatron if he wanted to talk or come visit. Ominously he hadn’t responded yet. Hopefully tomorrow wouldn’t be an entire disaster. That was the hope he held onto as he fell into a fitful recharge.