Investment

In reality, watching an opponent fight before being slated to fight him yourself was something of a taboo – in a more lawful setting, knowing the strategy of the one you were to fight would be paramount. In Kaon, intimately knowing an opponent’s strategy before ever confronting him was considered an act of cowardice.

Lugnut never would consider himself a coward by any means, but he was not so stupid as to bypass the opportunity to see the great Megatron, crowned prince of Kaon’s underworld. Lugnut had heard many things of Megatron – it was impossible not to, not when he had won so often, so entirely. He was a crowd favorite, and would someday change the entire world of Cybertron. Lugnut knew it in his spark.

‘You’ll never beat him in a fight, thinking like that,’ said Swindle wryly, standing casually to Lugnut’s left side, just out of view of his peripheral vision.

It startled Lugnut, but Swindle always seemed to startle him. Swindle walked with a very light gait, despite how many heavy weaponry he likely had concealed under his armor. The roaring crowd swaying around them, and the darkness of the stands made it equally difficult to perceive Swindle’s sudden appearance.

‘I can hear you fawning, Lugnut. Though I would have never pegged Megatron for your type.’

How Swindle could detect the changes in Lugnut’s demeanor was well beyond him – it certainly seemed impossible for anyone else to consider Lugnut’s expression anything beyond a fierce glare. Lacking a traditional facial structure could be trying at times – but Swindle saw past that. He saw covetousness with ease, despicable as he twisted it to his liking until we was given a payoff. Lugnut did not wish to imagine what Swindle might have in mind now.

Lugnut shrugged his large shoulders, settling back against his seat. ‘I do not desire him,’ he responded gruffly, feeling a bit peeved at being caught in such a state. ‘I merely admire his technique.’

‘Aggressive,’ said Swindle thoughtfully. ‘A bit rash. Though clearly smart, enough to make that work to his advantage. Not terribly unlike you – except for the last part.’ Swindle paused as Lugnut failed to grouse at the insult. ‘You really are fixated on him, aren’t you?’

Lugnut shifted uncomfortably, an optic twitching downward to gaze at Swindle smiling face. ‘What do you want, salesbot?’ he growled agitatedly, his tone low. ‘You’ve hardly taken interest in this before – not when you weren’t trying to gain something.’

Being his ‘manager’ – or his master, as Lugnut’s particular violent services had not been offered voluntarily – Swindle was not obligated to tolerate Lugnut’s irritation. Lugnut was quite aware that if Swindle bored with him or found him unprofitable in the arena, he would very happily sell Lugnut off piece by piece.

Perhaps it was that knowledge that made Swindle answer so jovially. ‘Well,’ said Swindle innocuously. ‘I could possibly arrange for you to meet Megatron before your fight. For a small fee.’

A small fee was a subjective term – Lugnut was privy to half of the winnings from every battle he was given. However, after room and board, energon, and Swindle’s personal fee, this usually did not account for very much when all was said and done. Lugnut hardly had the riches to warrant such a generous offer.

‘Half of your winnings from the last fight,’ said Swindle thoughtfully. ‘That’s my final offer, of course – I could hardly ask for less, considering how generous I am already being. Why, other mechs would pay far more just to lick Megatron’s feet, much less have a personal encounter with–’

Lugnut grunted – double entendres were something Swindle adored ever so much. Lugnut loathed them, especially when they were so deeply inaccurate. Lugnut’s awkwardness with any social situation extended very much into any kind of intimate situation, and Lugnut had yet to experience… carnal satisfaction.

Most of the time, it merely felt undignified.

‘I wouldn’t have enough to cover energon supplies.’

‘Then I suppose you will have to go without,’ said Swindle brightly.

Lugnut stiffened at that comment. Without energon, he knew he couldn’t win the fight with Megatron – even properly fueled, his chances were slim. It was very likely that this was Swindle’s way of telling him he was unprofitable – that Swindle had no intention of repairing and keeping him after Megatron tore him to pieces.

Large shoulders sank further. He stared across the packed arena as Megatron threw down his foe – a striking golden mech, designated Sunstreaker if Lugnut could clearly recall. Sunstreaker was far too small to resist, much less defeat Megatron – he had held his own for a sizeable amount of time, considering, but now it was over. The crowds barked and jeered for death, chanting, clapping and crying out for satisfaction.

The killing blow never came – and Megatron strode out of the arena without so much as a glance behind him, his wide shoulders held back high.

Megatron’s men gathered the golden mech, eliciting heated laughter from Swindle. Lugnut grimaced – he knew the rumors of what Megatron did with the mechs he found particularly appealing. It was a disgusting thought, to imagine Megatron forcefully merging his spark with them, taking them, disgracing the fighters – treating them as lesser beings rather than respectable enemies. Sunstreaker would soon experience such humiliation.

Lugnut tried not to imagine it, but there was little hope of ignoring that persistent little image. Broken, beaten, awakening to find Megatron over him, mouth against his neck, hands gripping his hip joints with unpleasant force. Brief resistance followed by utter submission. Lugnut could hardly imagine the panic, the sickly mortification – interface would hardly be something Megatron would allot to him.

Yet, even knowing how disgraceful that would be, it was difficult… not to at least try and imagine it. Megatron’s mouth against Sunstreaker’s slender thighs, glossa tracing the seams in his armor, flicking nimbly over the circuitry beneath. Megatron’s hands would be powerful like Lugnut’s claws, but far more dexterous, sliding along squirming hips and an arched chest. Finding weaknesses – the little hotspots of pleasure would be thoroughly exploited.

Lugnut’s spark quivered, and it occurred to him then that he was already ready to submit before the slightest resistance. The group – Megatron’s followers – were so very convinced that beneath the brute force, there was also incredible genius. There was power in him, something far beyond any ordinary mech.

He shifted his weight and gazed back towards Swindle. He had not the faintest idea what he could ever expect, meeting Megatron face-to-face – what he might gain. Lugnut was unbeaten in the arena, but Megatron was likewise reputable.

And watching him, seeing him as he was, and hearing Swindle’s proposition… he knew there was a very real chance that he would lose, and he would be destroyed for his weakness. If not by Megatron himself, then Swindle. That was how life was, in the arena. Either you won or you died – there were few exceptions to this rule.

‘Fine,’ said Lugnut reluctantly, immediately shrugging away the hefty pat on his back.

If this was what Swindle wanted, the concept of choice was merely an illusion – Swindle would have gotten what he wanted eventually.

---

Megatron’s room was modest, all things considered. Dimly lit, and spacious, but there was no décor, nothing extravagant to indicate the room actually belonged to someone. It felt a bit like a room that was only being used out of necessity rather than familiarity. Like Megatron intended to leave it in short notice, should he ever have to.

Lugnut still felt awkward – he always felt awkward outside of his own territory.

He wasn’t sure how Swindle had brought him here, or why Swindle knew Megatron at all. All Lugnut knew right now was that he was intimidated – not a usual emotion for Lugnut. He moved around awkwardly, motions jerky and unconfident, waiting for Megatron to arrive. He touched nothing, did not sit nor relax as the time dragged on. He did feel, at the very core of him, the light discomfort associated with lack of energon.

Unlike Swindle, Megatron was not soundless when he walked, when he moved. Then again, ‘sly’ likely wasn’t a fitting description of the gladiator – powerful, courageous, bold…

At least, that’s what Lugnut understood. He obviously couldn’t know for certain until he met Megatron himself.

‘What is your name?’ asked Megatron, standing at the door.

‘My name,’ responded Lugnut dumbly, his processors taking a few minutes to catch up with the question. ‘Lugnut. My name is Lugnut!’

‘Sit,’ said Megatron, nodding to the small table at the other side of the room.

Lugnut immediately moved to the table and settled down in the chair, his claws at his sides, his joints tense at he watched Megatron. Up close, Megatron was far different than Lugnut could have imagined. His body was deeply battle scarred – something that was difficult to see from the distant, dark stands of the arena. Dents, fractures, gashes – the imprints of claw marks and bites. Soon, he would bear the scars of his battle with Lugnut.

‘I am to understand that you are my next opponent,’ said Megatron vaguely, retrieving two energon cubes from a compartment in the wall. ‘Are you here to surrender?’

It struck Lugnut quite suddenly that Megatron’s voice was nothing like he had imagined. Perhaps it was his reputation, his presence, but Lugnut had envisioned the particular, precise accent of a noble. Of course, that wouldn’t make any sense, even by the farthest stretch of the imagination – Megatron wasn’t a noble, and had never claimed to be.

It was simply… odd to see a common mech so very powerful.

‘No,’ said Lugnut stiffly. ‘No – it will be an… an honor! To fight a mech as powerful as you are!’

Megatron’s brown ridge arched. ‘Hardly a common sentiment shared by my opponents,’ he murmured idly, holding out energon to Lugnut. ‘Drink – I will not have my opponents suffering from energon depletion.’

Lugnut held the container of energon with a numb sense of acceptance. It felt appropriate, perhaps, to make clear just how grateful he was for this offering – but any such admittance would only exemplify his growing weakness in Megatron’s pervasive presence. The energon shook between his claws as he lifted it and drank deeply. The energon was pure – untarnished, not the cheap, watered down kind that Lugnut so often consumed. He wouldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted something quite so sweet.

After Lugnut had consumed the drink, Megatron’s hand reached out to retrieve it. His fingertips slid over Lugnut’s claw with clear deliberation.

‘Your master was toying with the idea of betting against you,’ said Megatron abruptly, lingering before setting aside the empty containers. ‘You realize that’s against the rules here. You could be blocked from the fight – he could be punished.’

That much was true – while the gladiatorial arenas were in a nihilistic city with equally nihilistic mechs to run it, there were still… traditions. Perhaps it was merely the reminiscence of some honor that they had once had, when things like loyalty and trust were still valuable. It was… something that Lugnut was certain Megatron knew, something he understood better than the rest of them. The Decepticons – the underground movement that was rapidly taking the city – they were just beginning to understand his unique ways. The word hope was no longer just a fancy.

‘I also realize what Swindle does to those he finds no longer useful to him,’ said Megatron, a hint of distaste in his voice. ‘And that, despite your capabilities, you cannot match me in the arena – and you will perish for it. If not by my hand, then his.’

Just as abruptly as the vaguely threatening tone came, it disappeared. Megatron settled back into a chair, his mouth slanted into the faintest of smirks as he stared upon Lugnut.

‘But you will not be without your uses,’ said Megatron. ‘You are, after all, unrivaled – perhaps you will prove to be a decent opponent.’

‘If that pleases you,’ responded Lugnut with surprising vehemence. ‘Megatron.’

This elicited a chuckle from Megatron. ‘I'm sure it would please you more than it would me. I've been informed that you have seen me fight on more than one occasion.’

Lugnut shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. His optic shifted down to watch Megatron's fingers idly tap his arm rest. The same fingers he had witnessed just two fights ago rip out a mech's throat.

Lugnut had nothing to hide. He was noble and honor bound.

‘Watching you fight is an honor! You are more skilled in combat than any other mech I have ever seen!’ He tried to remain calm, the fresh energon in his systems flooding his sensors as he recalled the way Megatron moved in for the kill. His speed and agility only matched by his power and precision. Not a single movement wasted.

Megatron sat forward, hands clasped calmly on the table, seeming to size up Lugnut with a smirk he saved only for his 'special' opponents.

‘Yes. I am the best fighter this stadium has ever seen. I am undefeated and it has been said that my fighting style is unmatched by any other opponent to have ever set foot in this arena. I'm sure you did enjoy watching me fight. Picking apart my moves... Learning my weaknesses...’

Lugnut's processors failed him. What Megatron was suddenly implying was.... It wasn't true. He had to have interpreted this incorrectly.

‘I merely watch for my own pleasure. I never imagined that I would be able to go up against you, Megatron!’ His protest lingered in the air for a moment, sounding shrill to his own auditory sensors.

Megatron scoffed. ‘Then you are a fool, Lugnut... A mech that does as well as you was bound to face me eventually. Two undefeated champions facing off together with such high stakes... Some would call what you have been doing...cheating.’

The word was practically a physical blow to his very spark. Cheating.

Lugnut reacted before his audio sensors had even finished processing the foul word.

‘I WOULD NEVER SINK TO SUCH LOW DISHONORABLE MEANS!’ His fist hit the table, cracking it down the middle as he sprung to his feet, his optic narrowed in rage.

‘I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU! I DO NOT NEED TO CHEAT TO DEFEAT SCUM!’ Lugnut looked around as if willing scum to slide out from under Megatron’s berth and challenge him. ‘I will battle you in the arena and die with honor!’

He did not care what anyone else thought of him, but to think that Megatron might consider him a cheater was unbearable. He intended to fight Megatron in the arena. He would put up the best fight of his life. And he fully expected for his spark to be shattered under the mighty blade of Megatron. To think that the last thing he would ever see would be Megatron’s victorious face just before that final blow… His spark swelled with pride.

‘That will hardly be necessary.’ Megatron’s cool voice snapped him out of his day dreams of glory. Pride was quickly and brutally overwhelmed with utter horror as he looked at Megatron sitting in front of a smashed table.

‘Sit back down, and try to refrain from destroying the rest of my meager furnishings.’ Megatron at least looked amused. Though Lugnut mentally made a note in the back of his processors to try and repay Megatron for this.

Lugnut sat quickly, the chair creaking loudly in protest at the sudden weight.

‘You will not get the chance to battle me just yet, Lugnut. You see, it is against the rules for you to battle your own property. They feel it is not a valid match.’

Megatron’s words flowed over Lugnut, his spark pulsing hard. ‘I do not understand…’

Megatron paused, leaning back and smirking widely as he gazed upon Lugnut’s hopeful face. ‘Swindle has agreed to sell you to me. You cost me quite a bit of credits and energon. I will expect you to be worth every drop.’

Realization hit Lugnut hard. This was quickly followed by dismay. ‘I… Paid Swindle to see you… And he was selling me to you.’

‘So it would seem.’ Megatron… His Master held out another energon cube to him patiently.

Swindle’s double-crossing soon became irrelevant. ‘I… I am not worthy!’ Lugnut was down on his knees in an instant. To think… Megatron wanted him. Megatron had paid with his own rations to purchase him.

‘I will serve you in any and every way possible! I will destroy all that oppose you and shout your name to the heavens! LORD MEGATRON!’

‘I’m sure you will get your chance as a loyal subject in my rebellion,’ said Megatron wryly. ‘For now, discretion is required…. You may show your loyalty to me, but try not to blow it out of proportion.’

Lugnut couldn’t believe it. Megatron desired him as a fighter. He even trusted him enough to let him participate in his underground gatherings.

‘I will not let you down! I will follow you no matter what! Anything just for you! In time, all will hail to you, Lord Megatron!’

Megatron gave a strained little smile before he climbed to his feet, striding close to Lugnut and leaning down until their chests were nearly touching. Lugnut was paralyzed as Megatron’s hand slid down his arm, taking his claw with the energon cube and lifting it.

‘Then drink,’ purred Megatron gently, his mouth pressed against Lugnut’s audial gently. ‘And rest. I expect you in the arena in the next solar cycle. You will fight for me now, with my brand, with my direction. And when we are ready, you will be a soldier – not a slave.’

Lugnut’s spark pulsed heavily. ‘Yes,’ he managed to rumble. ‘Yes, Lord Megatron. I will do as you wish!’

He drank deeply from the energon cube as Megatron withdraw. The Decepticon leader smiled – almost coy – as he moved to the door. He opened it, gesturing smoothly.

‘Go,’ said Megatron. ‘Your new quarters are adjacent to my own. You will be staying with another Decepticon – perhaps you have heard of him. Blitzwing.’

Lugnut huffed – yes, as a matter of fact he had heard of Blitzwing. Even managed to beat him in a fight – the glitch couldn’t coordinate himself well enough to win against Lugnut in the arena. Perhaps this was a trial from Megatron – if Lugnut was willing to tolerate Blitzwing, then surely he could do anything!

‘Yes, my master,’ said Lugnut, bounding to the door. ‘I will do as you ask!’

Megatron’s smirk broadened. ‘Try to keep a leash on him,’ said Megatron slyly. ‘He can be difficult at the best of times.’

And then the door was closed, and Lugnut was left feeling very much like he had just been appointed as a sparklingsitter – and for the life of him, he couldn’t really bring himself to be terribly insulted. His spark surged with delight, too much emotion to possibly be put into words.

‘Thank you,’ said Lugnut to the closed door, his voice soft. ‘Mighty Megatron.’

---

Author's Note: Collaboration with the very talented Yeaomi. Written for Prisonsuit Rabbitman.