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Megatron folds his servos behind his back and watches the Necroworld below, bright blue from orbit with the reflected light of billions and billions of flowers.
"What should we call it?" Tarn (Damus, a vicious voice from within Megatron taunts, once he was called Damus) asks from beside him. For a brief moment, Megatron wonders how many flowers the leader of his Justice Division has earned for his statue on the planet below.
"The ship," Tarn clarifies when Megatron cocks his head at him. "Peaceful Tyranny seems - wrong, now, given recent events."
Megatron turns back to the massive viewfinder of the Lost Light's primary observation deck. When they had entered, Tarn trailing just slightly with a deference that punched a hole through Megatron's chest, Perceptor and Brainstorm had been crowding the glass, heads bent in conversation. They had scurried out when they realized they weren't alone. Megatron had wondered at that.
"You're right," he says now, "it should reflect the transition of the crew."
"The name Lost Light is significant, isn't it?" Tarn asks.
Megatron nods. "It's one of many; the Lost Light and the Leading Light, the Arclight - the Autobots aren't very subtle with their metaphors."
"You still say it like you're not one of them," Tarn remarks, as gentle as Megatron has ever heard him, "'the Autobots'. We should set an example, take a name they'd respect. Another Light."
"No," Megatron snaps, then cycles his vents to try to soften the edges of his voice, "Acknowledge who you were. Revisionism was a mistake I made for far too long, and it lead us here."
Tarn seems to consider that. He is quiet for a long time, simply staring out of the viewfinder onto a world he'd renounced his faction on.
"Towards Light," he finally says.
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Rodimus appoints Ultra Magnus in charge of Autobot-izing the Justice Division (With Minimal Loss of Life (Though Some Loss Is Acceptable in the Case of Getaway (He's a Dick))). Magnus refuses to call it that.
Their introduction to becoming Autobots doesn't start off too well. The majority of the ship were already terrified of their very names; Brainstorm yelped and transformed into his jet mode upon sight of Tesarus in Magnus' office, rocketing down the hallway and knocking Swerve over in the process; Whirl kept trying to fight them; and Rewind was shut up inside his and Chromedome's quarters not speaking to anyone after an unfortunate incident involving Rewind, the Pet, a happy yip of glee, and a disgusting amount of drool. Chromedome had managed to get into their hab early on in the minibot's isolation, but when he had come out hours later he had wordlessly tracked down Kaon and punched him directly in the face, shaking with indignant rage on behalf of his conjunx. Magnus had had to pick Vos' struggling form up to keep the shrieking gunformer from tearing Chromedome limb from limb.
In short, converting the DJD into Autobot-dom was, so far, a total clusterfuck.
"This is a total clusterfuck," Rodimus chirps at Megatron from his side. Across the bar, Magnus has the Justice Division drummed up in a military-precise row.
"Name the Code violations in this room alone," the former Duly Appointed Enforcer orders.
"What is he doing?" Megatron murmurs to his co-captain.
Rodimus shrugs. "It's part of his two-step; he wants them to be able to see a problem, and then dispense justice without, y'know, dismemberment. Or explosions. Or death in general, really, unless it's Getaway. He's a dick."
"And the medic, Nickel?"
"She's exempt, on account of being not crazy."
"Ah."
Megatron watches as Tarn effortlessly lifts Vos onto one of his shoulder pauldrons so the minicon can point to something wrong with the lights, and feels his spark constrict.
(Would it have been better if they'd never met? but they've become crew, like family, the same way I've - )
Megatron resets his vocoder. Rodimus glances at him oddly.
"Anyway," he says, typical flame-decorated nonchalance firmly in place, "Comm me if anything interesting happens. Or if someone dies."
Megatron glares at him but says nothing.
Minutes later, Megatron opens up a comm.
::Helex melted part of First Aid.::
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The newly-christened Autobot Justice Division (formerly known as the Decepticon Justice Division, formerly known as That Bunch of Psychos) gets its first Rodimus star cycles after the Necroworld.
The newly-named and refurbished Towards Light is magnetically affixed to the Lost Light using Kaon's tesla coils and Brainstorm's weirdly robust collection of magnets, and the conjoined ships make landfall at the nearest trading world, Akalo, to resupply after the disastrously wasteful failed mutiny and the skirmish on the Necroworld. The Justice Division gets sent out as "fairness enforcers" with the away team, under Magnus' careful orders to interfere as little as possible and simply observe their new factionmates' behavior, and come back grinning and dripping in the ichor of the native inhabitants.
Magnus meets them on the loading ramp. The dead-opticked look on the rest of the team tells him enough. He cycles his vents loudly.
Rodimus slumps forward and hands Tarn a shiny foil badge with a haunted "Good… work" before turning back to the ship and disappearing inside.
"This planet now serves the Autobot Empire," Tarn tells Magnus proudly. Behind him, Vos cackles and hisses "noo liisssstt… nnnooo probleeemm" in broken Neocybex. Tesarus high fives the little gunformer.
Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. "There is no Autobot Empire. Trade partners are treated with respect and civility, not… murder."
"But how else do you make sure you're getting fair prices from them?" Kaon asks.
Magnus shakes his head. "You've misunderstood a lot. About everything. Especially the free market. Come, we're going to do Code drills until you see your mistake."
The Autobot Justice Division gives a collective aggrieved groan.
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("What's that?" Nickel demands once aboard the Towards Light, pointing to the back of the command chair.
Tarn visibly brightens. "A Rodimus star," he says.
Nickel blinks at him.
Then wallops his knee joint.)
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