The Cannon

WARNING! CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE TRANSFORMERS "MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE" COMICS BY JAMES ROBERTS!

Rating: G
Universe: More Than Meets The Eye comics
Characters: Megatron
Pairings: None


Megatron groaned as his systems rebooted. Six months, and it still wasn't getting any better. Every single day was like the morning after a bad overcharge. The kind where you wake up and realize that you got overclocked on circuit speeders, shot a few people, stole a class IV warbringer exoskeleton, and now things are going to be really awkward for the next few days.

With a visible effort, he wrenched himself free of the circuit slab and sat upright. Then he slumped forward. He hadn't properly recharged in centuries. Not on a slab. Not while laying down. Not with all higher brain functions suspended. He'd gotten too paranoid towards the end.

He had the nagging feeling that his balance was off. Very off. Ah, yes. Of course. Six months, and he still forgot. Steeling himself for the imminent sense of loss, he looked down at his right arm.

His fusion cannon was gone.

Right. Yes. The worst part was out of the way. Now he could face the day properly.

He hated to admit it. Hated it down to his very spark. But it was true. He missed the fusion cannon.

It had never been an essential bit of anatomy. It had always been removable, and pretty much every alternate mode he'd ever used had allowed him to transform without it. But it had been a part of him. For nearly four million years, it had been the one part of his body that had remained an iconic constant. He'd changed nearly everything else. He'd gone through countless alternate modes, from jets to tanks to star fighters to laser pistols and beyond. He'd changed his color scheme from silver to black to purple and back again. But there had always been the cannon. And now it was gone.

It had been a marvel of engineering, one of the finest weapons ever designed. There had been a dial that allowed it to concentrate or disperse its range of fire, and a setting that allowed him to fire it in a continuous stream. It had even had a function that used the worm hole technology in his chest to draw extra power from a collapsed neutron star. He had never used it. For a weapon capable of concentrating the force of a nuclear explosion at an enemy's chest, it had seemed like overkill. Looking back, he almost wished he'd tried it out, just once.

With a final groan, he got up and walked to the window. This was the part that did get easier. He looked at his reflection, then down at the glowing, red insignia on his chest. An autobot symbol stared stoically back at him. He grunted. Well, it didn't matter. Everything else was ancient history. This was the now, and it was time he started facing up to it.

With an air of quiet purpose and dignity, Megatron the autobot straightened the treads in his legs, adjusted his helmet, and stalked towards the bridge to face his crew.