typingblind:

“Unknown, sir,” Xander replies, pretending he hasn’t heard anything prior to the question and not identifying himself, since he wasn’t ordered to. “I didn’t s—I mean, I only heard you go down, sir, I don’t know what prompted it… are you alright, sir? Should I comm. Officer Knock Out?“

This is the first time in recent memory that Xander has been directly addressed by his leader, and he’s still trying to figure out exactly what is going on. The blind mech shifts, running a hand over the ground slightly to judge his proximity to the warlord before scooting back a bit to give the larger mech some space.

Megatron listens, despite the ache in his helm. At least it’s beginning to subside. His vision focuses a bit more and he feels the ghost of digits against his wrist as the soldier feels for his place. It was the blind one that had found him. Carefully, he pushes himself up to his knees, closing his optics again and allowing the gyroscope to settle.

"That will not be necessary…” His chronometer showed that several solar cycles had passed. “Disregard any orders given in the last few days, I have not been myself… But situation seems to have passed.”

Unaware of how much the soldiers knew of anonymous magic, he leaves it at that for now. No need to cause a panic.

typingblind:

The blind mech registers no movement, but he can hear the spark of his leader pulsing. Xander is afraid to touch him, but finds his way toward the fallen mech’s torso and head, trying to check him for any detectable injury.

Xander inwardly panics. There’s no protocol for this! What could he do?

Megatron stirs in his unconscious state, twitching and growling in reliving past battles. One by one, his memories unlocked, releasing fast enough that they were not so much sights as emotions that the warlord was forced to endure. Towards the end, he just burned with anger. With a final jolt before he relaxed, the warlord began to come out of stasis with a groan.

His helm is overheated, pulsing painfully with each surge of energy from his spark. Putting a servo to the ground in an attempt to push himself upright, his gyroscope protests and he’s forced to stay that way and make sense of which way is down. The larger mech is acutely aware that there is someone near him, but his optics take a few moments to focus.

“…Soldier. What happened to me?”

typingblind:

A lone vehicon hears the crash down the hallway. Xander knows that that can’t possibly be good, and rushes toward the source of the sound. He locates the mech’s foot, and barely ghosts his digits over the plating to try to identify him.

The identity of the mech startles him.

“Lord Megatron?”

The Decepticon warlord lays prone on his front, all but in stasis. All power is needed to restore eons worth of data to his mind. Apart from a few… outliers, Megatron is one of the oldest aboard the ship, and his memory is long. 

Apart from the occasional twitch of his digits as old thoughts replay themselves as they upload, he remains motionless and unresponsive.

They are repaired to the best of our medic’s ability and our resources. If they are still unable to fight, like the blind one you speak of, they are put to work in another fashion, either in the mines, or around the ship depending on their injury. They were willing to die for me and are now unable to follow through; the least we can provide them is the feeling that they are still of use.