Only Bad Answers

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Maleki had been caught red-handed. This superior had put the pieces together, snapping Maleki's facade like a twig. This left Maleki with two rather clear options that this mech was imposing upon him. He could submit to the authority, and wait for the day when someone with a cortical psychic patch turned him into someone else. Or maybe he'd just be scrapped. Door two had mostly the same anticipated ending only Maleki stood up for himself. Maleki's EM field shivered once, then it remained steady as he gained his bearings. 

"Yep." Maleki answered simply, as his seeker wings began to tuck themselves into hi back-plating, sliding in tightly. His vents released a loud hiss. He kept his fingers on the keyboard, requesting for data to be given on the last status of the training center. 'ABANDONED' was written in huge bold print. "The only bad thing to do in this faction is defying Lord Megatron. What's always been interesting to me is there's really been no distinct 'right' or 'wrong' except that, sir."

Maleki didn't need to feel his shoulder to know Tarn's grip tightened. he was hearing his armor creaking a bit. If this mech was as smart as he had been acting, Maleki calculated this superior had several plans he was considering, or that were already in motion. 

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So the truth came out finally. Good. Tarn’s optics narrowed as the Vehicon spoke, noting that he had no reaction to Tarn’s grip tightening even though his armor audibly creaked. Was this Vehicon that good an actor? No. Then, perhaps…he could not feel pain? Hm.

“In that, you are still woefully incorrect.”

Releasing the Vehicon’s shoulder, Tarn considered him with cold, crimson optics. “Why? Why are you looking for your killswitch?” he asked quietly. He could guess at the answer. It did not take much processing power to speculate. But he wanted to know the heart of the matter. More than just the simple base explanation.

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Maleki noticed how quiet this stranger was. It was as if he was trying to whisper to him like they were in a  room chalk-full of Decepticons. Maleki was beginning to think this guy was actually a little interesting. Only a little though. He was asking questions he knew the answers to. Maleki couldn't hide some of his feelings easily, but he was enough of a psycho-talker to be abel to recognize some of the psychology behind what was coming out of Tarn's mouth. 

"Am I? List rules everyone's followed up to this point, save not defying Megatron. The only morales I've seen are the ones everyones set for themselves, or stomped into the people below them." Maleki said, scrolling downward, "Everyone's morals different. Megatron sets the morales since he's in charge...but that means what's good and bad is based off whatever Megatron feels is good or bad. Righteous as he may be, that means there really is no 'morally stable'. Because if Megatrons our leader and god, and he's promoting a rat-race, well--how is this bad exactly?" Maleki questioned Tarn, though he knew the mech would disagree. Maleki didn't really like that way of thinking either, but it was all he'd figured out from his boot-camp, and from his surroundings. He never answered the killswitch question. 

The guy already knew it. What was he waiting for? Was he going to pick up a data pad and or pound Maleki into the ground or what? Maleki guessed if none of those two things would occur, then he'd best be engird for the unpredictable. Yeah, because that's real easy. 

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Listening to Maleki, Tarn gazed down at him silently. Something was…wrong. Very wrong. The Vehicon did not bother to answer his question about the killswitch. Tarn had surmised that he might avoid it. The answer he did provide, however, was much more telling of the nature of whom he was dealing.

“I see,” Tarn murmured, more to himself than the Vehicon.

A pause.

“It is true that in war, morals and rules and honor fade to background like so much static,” Tarn said slowly. He leaned down close to the Vehicon’s audio receptor. “But there are proper ways to go about matters…such as this…” he whispered softly. He pulled back. “If the Decepticons were actually run as roughshod as you suggest, then we would have lost to the Autobots long ago.”

“Advancement. Power. Station,” Tarn listed, calmly, quietly. “There are those who seek to attain it through any means. If they do attain it, their grasp on it is tenuous. Fleeting. And fraught with those beneath them following in their example. Treachery leads to treachery and does little more than endanger the cause.”

Tarn flexed his hand idly. “When that happens, those that sought power that way meet a certain…very unpleasant end.”

“Loyalty, trust, reliability.” Tarn’s optics slid down to the Vehicon with icy certainty, “These qualities are invaluable and can buy you much in the way of advancement. Upgrades. Station. Power. What have you.”

“Do you see now? What path do you choose? What fate awaits you?”

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Can't say he's not keeping me guessing. Maleki thought to himself, though he suddenly felt rather trapped by Tarn's last sentence. There were two doors this superior was presenting, as if he saw the world around him in black and white. Maleki just wished he understood the areas of grey better--

Maleki had no room to complain though. He didn't always understand everything. Like bounty hunters. The vehicon had no idea what to think of them other than them being willing to take lives for money. It was actually beginning to sound like a decent way of living, from where Maleki was standing. 

"My path's already been chosen for me." Maleki folded his arms, "I'm a creature of war. My job's to kill things, and how to figure out how to kill things better." Maleki turned around to face the mech, deciding he'd had enough of talking to the one behind him. Maleki preferred facing his issues head on anyways. All that cloak and dagger Decepticon higher ups used sometimes was just annoying. 

"Hmm. Loyalty." Maleki considered, "To Megatron? I'd say why not but I don't have reason to believe the guy really exists. Or this Optimus Prime fellow." Maleki shrugged. It was actually a fair statement. Maleki had never seen Megatron, and everything he'd heard on Megatron had been rather mixed. Sometimes Megatron was a tyrant to be feared, sometimes he was  mathematician fighting for the greater good, other times he was an ex-Decepticon leader who'd joined the bots a long time ago. None of which made any sense to Maleki. To malice, Megatron seemed to just be a legend long gone this faction was rallying behind...and the same with Optimus Prime too. Yes, Many had said they'd seen and fought with Megatron, but they were described differently every time. 

"I'd actually like some proof of who Megatron is for a change. I've been killing in his name, but I don't know who he is. But you, you're a smart-looking loyalist with knowledge to spare. Why not shed some light on this matter, since you have your idealisms painted so clearly?"

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Watching impassively as the Vehicon turned around to face him, Tarn considered his words. It seemed like being given his purpose was unfulfilling? Hm. Or perhaps he was presuming a bit much. On the topic of loyalty, Tarn’s optics widened incredulously. What? He had never seen them? If it were on any other warship, Tarn might have dismissed that notion, but on the Nemesis?

Still, he held his vocalizer. Processing the possible explanations. At least, until the Vehicon offered up a request.

“Of course,” Tarn uttered warmly, “But first, what is your designation? And who manufactured you and instructed you?”

He would need a few words with them. In the meantime, however, Tarn would enlighten this Vehicon on just who Megatron was. Perhaps even lend him a copy of Towards Peace for further reading if he so wished. Perhaps some unclassified logs of Megatron and some of his early rallying speeches during the early stages of the war.

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Maleki took pride in the fact that he made this guy pause. It was about time he pulled that off. Maleki shifted weight from one foot to another, his wings sliding in and out of their slitted refuge by a few inches. His amusement small amusement was obvious. 

"I'm CV-2290. Some call me Cut-Up due to my scars, and my inclinations towards sharp objects. But Most call me Maleki." the vehicon's yellow visor blazed with a hue of pride at his name, as he felt it set his individuality in stone. "Manufacturing." Maleki processed, his visor glinting to the distance for a moment. 

"I only know one person who might be involved in my making. He used to be into vehicon-making and all that---but his job was put on a hold after a little incident at the ol' center. His name's Nines. Not sure if he's around these parts--though I can feel it in my bones that you might encounter him somehow." Maleki said, skimming over some details he preferred to keep in the past. No need to get in a rant about genocide right? He'd killed and would kill more Autobots throughout his years for what occurred, and make sure that a hundred Autobots lay dead for each of his fallen brothers and sisters. But enough of that, he didn't want to get emotional. He could reflect on it later. 

"Now, how about your name, since we're having such a pleasant get-to-know-you game." 

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CV-2290. Tarn made a mental note of the designation. He’d have to look that up later in the Nemesis’s data files. As he watched the Vehi- Maleki puff up with pride, a hint of amusement made its way onto Tarn’s faceplate. Fortunately, his faceplate was concealed behind his mask that revealed very little.

His optics flickered lightly at the mention of one involved in Maleki’s manufacturing. He made a note to both look into him and this incident. It was good that Maleki was being far more cooperative now than he had been at the outset of their little confrontation. It certainly made things easier for Tarn.

When Maleki asked for his name, Tarn was a little surprised. And a bit disturbed. His appearance was not one that could easily be mistaken for any other. But again, if Maleki had never seen Megatron, then it was more than possible that he would not know what he looked like. Before he overreacted, he decided to see how Maleki would react to his name.

“I am Tarn, chief justice of the Decepticon Justice Division,” he said warmly, nodding his head to Maleki. “It is a pleasure, Maleki.”

Tarn watched carefully for his reaction for a moment. He then tapped his digit to his chin, thoughtfully.

“Now as to your earlier question. Who is Megatron? Author, Poet, Revolutionary, Tyrant. He’s worn many masks over the vorns,” Tarn began, “But at the core, he is a Cybertronian unlike any before him. He is a hero. And the savior of the Decepticons.”

He held up a digit.

“However, to really understand who he is, I would recommend you read Towards Peace. I’ll have a copy sent to your quarters. Perhaps some video recordings of his early rallies and his fights in the Pits so that you can see him in action.”

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Here we go. 

Pleasantries aside, this guy was evidently a higher-up. Maleki hand't been known to keep tabs on all higher-ups, but with a title like that, it stood to reason this Tarn fellow meant business in the ranks of the Decepticons. Maleki switched the computer off as he listened, deciding that this kill-switch business was as good as tabled for later. Possibly never, depending how much this guy decided to spy on Maleki. 

Maleki gave a nod of slight respect, more or less playing his part. If Tarn could see through him so well, what good was a halfhearted salute? So a nod would do. Tarn's summary of Megatron was interesting enough, until what Maleki liked to call a loyalist's commercial kicked in. There were books to read, data to acquire, because Megatron was such a great guy. Maleki wasn't going to shove this out of his face this time. It was worth another try to see who he was really serving. Not to mention, it would keep Maleki on Tarn's better side. 

Despite how much his joints itched for a fight, now wasn't the time. Tarn was giving him a chance. he might as well take it. 

"Mmhm. Thanks." Maleki said simply, never bothering to give his room's number. It would be interesting to see how much Tarn was convinced to make a loyalist out of Maleki. The vehicon while the vehicon assumed his more casual of stances, he considered his reply; 

"I'll be interested to see who Megatron was. But what's important is who I'm serving now." Maleki held up his hand, "I just request that I get more than just the good stuff Tarn. I've only seen good data on Megatron." Maleki chuckled. He arched one brow and furrowed the other behind his mask, 

"Let's say there's a cult of guys who've decided their leader is the embodiment of Primus himself. These folks hoard around their "Primus", shouting to everyone ranging from those who're trying to get a peek and people just standing by the road. The disciples won't shut their gab about how amazing "Primus" is, how flawless he is, but the funny thing is they won't let any one see the embodiment of Primus accept when the disciples want the crowd to." Maleki's visor faced Tarn full on, "Some folks buy it, but to some guys it's just unreal. Because up to this point, everyone's been living a life full of mistakes and trickery. No historical figure has ever been without fault. Is it not appropriate for some to beg the question "Is this some sort of sick scam?"" Maleki paused, nodding to the distance for a moment~