Logged August 2001

Red Eclipse

The interior of the ship is strictly utilitarian, with not a millimeter of wasted space or unneccessary luxury, but that makes it functional and easy to navigate. The lighting is a dim red, as though the crew were on constant battle alert, or of a species that’s particularly sensitive to this wavelength. Various corridors lead to such necessities as the engine room, crew’s quarters, and a small med bay, while the bridge is a semi-circular room near the front of the vessel. In the center, the captain’s chair has a distinct throne-like quality about it, raised for a good overview of the whole area, and able to swivel in all directions. Around the perimeter, the normal stations are manned by a diverse crew of individuals: weapons, sensors, navigation.

What has gone before…

During the events of ENTER THE NIGHTBIRD, Tempest could not help but feel threatened by Nightbird’s presence in a way which she could not understand, and so she assisted Starscream in his escape and subsequent attack on Nightbird. Caught in the act by Ravage, confronted by an angry and devastated Megatron, Tempest decided she had no more place in the Decepticon ranks, and escaped back to wild space from which she had come.

Weeks later, Megatron ventured into space to seek Ruse, and vanished. As events would happen, Megatron lost all memory of his prior existence, and in order to survive in the Spaceways, assembled a crew of pirate raiders under his command.

Now the paths of Tempest and Megatron are about to cross once more in a way neither one could have predicted…

ECLIPSE DREAM

Visible on the Red Eclipse’s viewscreen is a most unusual sight...a CF-18 Hornet flying through space...on an intercept course.

The pirate ship seems not to be impressed - it charges its weapon systems, blasting that little problem out of the course if necessary.

The Hornet tilts its wings and drops...small and maneuverable, it’s hard to hit and it passes under the Red Eclipse’s belly.

The ship increases speed, spinning around its longitudinal axis in that maneuver.

The Hornet seems to have vanished underneath...it’s not coming out from beneath the rear of the ship. Did it veer off into space...or is it somewhere below, still? The aircraft does not look capable of hover...

The Red Eclipse starts to circle the area, scanning for that little troublemaker...

Tempest transforms into her Robot mode, letting her momentum carry her as she digs her blades into the underbelly of the Red Eclipse and braces her feet on the shuttle....once on, the next step is to search out a way in....

Like a big bird of prey, the Red Eclipse flies in a circle that also spins around an axis - so that she actually flies along an orb.

Tempest struggles to balance the spinning with the forward momentum and still be able to devote enough attention to prying a panel off the ship....hoping to get into the ventilation system, or at least the bilge.

The ship stops every movement as if waiting for something.

Tempest takes advantage of the stillness to pop open the panel. Slinking in and closing it after her, she finds herself in the ventilation system of the shuttle. The halls are silent, and so Tempest cuts herself another opening and drops stealthily into the quiet corridors...

The corridors seems to be empty... much too empty.

Tempest listens intently for noise, but hears nothing. At first she’s relieved, but shortly she begins to realize that this is not normal for a pirate vessel. Her instincts screaming, she hesitates....then begins to retreat the way she has come.

Suddenly several guns cock. “I think we have a visitor, Keelhaul,” a male voice remarks. “Right, Lynch,” a tall, massive femme answers. “And it is a girl,” another male, more the standard seeker adds.

Lynch grins: “You don’t say, Pecadillo. Hands up, lady!”

Tempest’s optics dart to those who are speaking, searching for the opponents, and her blades are raised as they have been all along. She looks...surprised, but not frightened--in fact there’s a certain arrogance in how she holds her position in the corridor as if this were /her/ ship. Tempest’s lip curls and she seems more than ready to take them all down rather than do as ordered...as if an afterthought, she also powers up her arm lasers.

Keelhaul chuckles: “I am impressed, young lady.” Pecadillo grins widely: “She doesn’t know Caulcks little toys...”

Tempest growls, “I’m not...you’re in my sector without an invitation.”

Loud laughing Pirates! “Your sector? Good joke! We have to tell Terminator about her. I think he will like her,” Pecadillo says.

Tempest picks up on that. “Terminator, eh? That your leader?” The swords move to a more stylized “tips up but angled back” position that is less overtly threatening-looking but hardly any less dangerous.

“Yes, that is their captain,” a voice from the back of the corridor remarks. A large mainly silver robot comes closer - a familiar figure. “You have the intruder, Lynch?”

“Aye, captain,” Lynch answers. “It’s a girl,” Peccadillo adds.

Tempest shoots what’s supposed to be an intimidating glare at the enemy captain, but as soon as she makes optic contact, the optics widen and the jaw drops... n Tempest is, by the way, slightly different than she was back at Earthbase....the “new” Tempest does /not/ slink through the corridors, nor does she shy away from the others...in fact, she looks about ready to rip their throats out were she not so interested in you...and as for her demeanour, it’s like /you’re/ the intruders in /her/ ship instead of the other way around.

Megatron watches the intruder for a while. “Mmmmh... interesting, indeed.” Keelhaul shrugs. “What shall we do with her?” Pecadillo grins: “I would take her...”

Tempest finally stops staring and chokes out, “Megatron...what the /hell/ are you doing here?” She looks at the pirates as if trying to find a familiar face in the crowd...Starscream, or Soundwave...and sees only strangers. The tips of the blades lower slightly

Megatron looks at Pecadillo, his optics flash shortly. “You will keep your fingers off her.” Lynch looks at Tempest, confused: “Captain, I think she thinks you are someone she knows...”

Tempest tilts her head and squints her optics, looking over him again. Could she be mistaken? She looks away long enough to shoot a glare at Pecadillo, as if to warn him that trying to take her /anywhere/ would /really/ hurt. Tempest nods slightly as Megatron (?) warns Pecadillo to think better of his behaviour...

Megatron narrows his optics. “So? I don’t remember her. What is your name, lady?” he asks, while his crew is still ready to shoot.

Tempest looks him dead in the optics and replies, “Tempest The Storm,” her gaze then flickering to the crew. Tempest can guess there’s something not quite right about Megatron, but feels in too much danger here to pursue it...she’s got her own life to be concerned about right now.

Lynch whistles. “I thought she was taller.”

Megatron says, “Tempest, the Storm, well I have heard something about you... aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“I say, she is just a pretender,” Keelhaul states. “This little thing, Tempest? Never.”

Tempest quirks an optic ridge, and smirks...Lynch’s comment seems to amuse her. She looks back to Megatron. “Rumours of my passing are greatly exaggerated.” But perhaps not so greatly, as the yellow warlord has come hunting alone...not in the pack of legend and story. Her head swings to Keelhaul. “What proof do you need?” she asks quietly...as if baiting the large pirate femme.

Megatron chuckles at Keelhauls comment. “Never underestimate your opponent because she /seems/ to be weak. She moves like a warrior.”

Keelhaul readies her gun.”I’m a warrior myself, skipper.”

Megatron says, “I could need a further warrior for my crew...”

Tempest bristles, squaring her shoulders trying to make herself look even bigger, and powering her guns intil they whine in complaint and glow with heat...though she doubts it will have the proper effect, as these pirates seem to have guns of their owns. Unusual for pirates, but considering their leader... Tempest decides this may not be the wisest moment to inform Megatron that she isn’t part of anyone’s crew...she watches him, optics blazing.

Lynch rubbs his chin. “You think so, captain? If she is Tempest... I don’t think she will.”

Megatron says, “Whoever she is, alone she will have trouble to survive in the near future.”

Tempest says, somewhat tersely, “I didn’t come here to take orders.” Though granted, she already knows Megatron’s words are true.

“She preferes to be sold on Exclia3,” Peccadillo says ironically. “Well, maybe I’ll bet for her.”

Megatron slaps the pirate. “No-one touches her!

Tempest looks him straight in the optic and says coolly, “You can try it but it’s your life you waste...” knowing she’s gaming fate...and then, when Megatron slaps him, she actually breaks a grin, despite the danger...

Lynch grins. “She is all yours, captain.

Tempest looks at Megatron and now looks a litle confused...she’s not sure if he’s still entirely her friend, or what will happen now...

Megatron says, “Lynch, shut up! I need a warrior. If I need some femme for private hours, I prefer someone who enjoys it as much as I do.”

Tempest tilts her head. This is a certain change from the “mourning for Nightbird” song...and Tempest decides she rather likes it better. She twirls her blades in a sudden swift motion and rests the points on the earth.

The pirates, surprised, look at their captain.

Tempest eyes the pirates, making sure none of them interpret her sudden move as an attack, and then herself looks at the one called Terminator.

Megatron says, “Well, what is your decision,... Storm. You managed to come aboard this ship, you obviously have skills we could need.”

Tempest replies, “You’re in my quadrant...Terminator.” Another glance around the crew. “I wonder if it’s fair...to expect subservience from the master of the house.” No, it’s not a challenge nor an attack...but she’s making it pretty clear that she has no intention of just taking orders either. And yes, it’s different than your first meeting with her on Earth...because you’re on her turf now.

Tempest says, quietly, “I could be through your crew and gone in a flash, and you would never find me...”

Megatron says, “You be just a heap of molten slag, before you even started, my dear. And you know that... you are /not/ stupid.”

Tempest’s optics blaze with silent fury, and for a moment it’s really looking like she’s going to try just to prove she can...or die in the attempt.

Megatron says, “Survive or die.”

Tempest’s optics flare and her fists clench and she hisses at him...yes, this is familiar. A single, short nod.

Megatron grins. “Excellent. Welcome to the Red Eclipse.” He turns to Pecadillo. “Tell Caboose he should prepare the meal. I think she could need some energy.”

Tempest growls, “I’m full,” sounding less than amused about the whole thing as she hangs her swords on her wings.

Megatron chuckles. “Well, but I am hungry myself. Peccadillo, go.” Peccadillo glances at Tempest, then nods and ... suddenly disappears.

Tempest nods a little, continuing to eye the rest of the crew.

Megatron says, “Lynch and Keelhaul will show you the ship. Feel free to ask. Just one thing... your probationary time has started. I will see if I trust you.”

Tempest’s optics slide around as if to say that she is judging a similar thing as she stalks off behind Lynch and Keelhaul....giving Lynch a look to inform him that her threat about being touched still stands.

Megatron says, “If you betray me, you are dead.”

Tempest’s optics flicker with a single remembrance...the Nightbird incident...and then she is silent, her mind now racing as she tries to figure out what brought Megatron here...

Megatron turns to go. “I will have lunch now. If you want to join me, you are welcome.”

Tempest hesitates and says slowly, “Perhaps I could find room for /something/...”

Megatron says, “Good, there is enough energon.”

Tempest follows behind Megatron...but not the old tag-along from Earthbase. She now stalks through the corridors like an emmisarry....

Megatron disappears in a room a bit further down the hall that seems to be the captain’s cabin. A small mech - nearly a ball like mechanism - has also approached. Carrying a plate full of energon dishes.

Tempest follows Megatron to his doorway and then hesitates there.

Megatron smirks. “You are allowed to enter.” He sits behind his desk, that also serves as a dining table, gesturing at a chair on the opposite site.

Tempest continues to pause as if debating the wisdom of such action...then, remembering that she came here of her own free will, she takes a tentative step forward into the room. As always, the optics dart about, locating any possible threats, any possible means of escape...and for a brief second she holds your gaze as if to double check your intentions....then takes the chair. They are alone now.

Megatron looks at Tempest as if reading her thoughts. “Don’t worry, I will not touch you.”

Tempest looks him over again and says abruptly, “What brought you here?”

Megatron says, “Luck... maybe.”

Tempest relaxes, slightly. “Luck?” she repeats. She tilts her head, trying to figure it out, and leads off with, “I thought I knew you from somewhere...thought you called yourself Megatron.”

Megatron starts to eat. “Interesting... but the name doesn’t sound familiar to me. On the other hand... I cannot remember what was before the Red Eclipse picked me up. Maybe I am him - maybe he just looks like me.”

Megatron says, “Careful with the red stuff, it is very spicy.” Megatron gestures at the food.

Tempest was about to pick up one of the red ones when she changes her mind and selects another colour. Tempest tilts her head. “You don’t remember? How...long ago was this?”

Megatron says, “Is that of any importance? I don’t think so.” Megatron says, “Friend or foe?”

Tempest pauses, and replies, “Ally...” Trails off, and admits, softly, “Friend.”

Megatron grins. “Lucky guy.”

Tempest glances up sharply at that. Whoever the hell this is, she is becoming more and more convinced that he is Megatron....with no Soundwave acting as his secret-police, no Empire to concern himself with, and most importantly, no Nightbird. Tempest says, “Why would you think that?” never once looking at him as she says the words, pretending to be absorbed in a green energon cube.

Megatron says, “Isn’t there anything better than to have a friend? It is a rare treasure out here.”

Tempest says, “I thought you were still trying to make up your mind if you trusted me?” She pauses. “Not to mention it’s not in my nature to take orders from anyone...” Back to /that/ point again, though she seems to be accepting enough ofthe situation for now.

Megatron smirks. “We will see.” Megatron says, “Maybe my command is not as bad as you fear... and maybe we could become friends too one day.”

Tempest bites back a retort about her opinion of anyone’s command, and focuses on the second statement, which certainly does have a measure of appeal. Tempest’s mind races...if this is, indeed, Megatron, surely it cannot be long before Shockwave and Soundwave bring their forces in search of him, attempt to bring him back to his old self....the self which is no doubt still angry with her,and regardless, the self which is Emperor of a strange civilization, one to which she does not belong.

Megatron takes a swig of enerwine. “Though I don’t know if I would be a friend like this Megatron. I don’t know how deep that relation was.”

Tempest replies, “I don’t usually make friends. That ought to say something.”

Megatron says, “I see.”

Tempest’s mind races as she tries to realize just what is going on here...Whatever window of opportunity is open, it will end when Shockwave and Soundwave find Megatron, and she has no doubt that they will....but the universe is a big place, and for a Space-rat like her, one with countless places to hide. Tempest figures she would have some time, at least, before the whole thing goes

sour...so...what choice does a space-rat have, but to run with whatever opportunity presents itself?

Megatron looks at her. “Something wrong with the food?”

Tempest looks up at him and actually offers a grin at last. “I said I was mostly full,” she says, almost teasing....

Megatron grins back. “Indeed, you said so.” Megatron says, “A grin fits better to your face than that frowning. You grin like a devil.”

Tempest continues grinning at Megatron as she drains the last of her energon. Frag, she’s full...she wasn’t kidding when she told Megatron that she wasn’t hungry. As usual she’d refuelled before she set out hunting the Red Eclipse. Tempest does not fill herself completely for a reason...a bit of hunger keeps her hunting edge sharp. And now, for whatever reason, she’s stuffed herself, and she can feel herself getting sleepy and relaxed...and she doesn’t care.

Megatron looks at the yellow seeker at the other side of the table as if trying to remember. At least she said he would look like this friend of hers. No... there is not the slightest piece of a memory...

Tempest for a moment wonders if she’s made a mistake...well, too late now...she blinks a little, and declines to eat any more. She instead rests her head on her arm and looks up at him.

Megatron leans back in his chair. “You said, you would not take orders from anyone... well, in my crew you would have to take orders from me... but you had also comrades to assist you,” he says. He sips from his enervine. “However, I don’t want to force you to follow me...”

Tempest says, quietly rather than challengingly, “Do you know these skies...these star-roads?”

Megatron nods. “I saw that everyone fights for survival by killing the other.” He takes a short metal stick. “One tries to kill the other.” He breaks it. Megatron says, “I also saw what is the strength of the Enforcers...”

Tempest nods. “Yeah, you’ve learned the major lesson pretty quick.” She spins her dish around idly. “But the territory...the locations of the prime raiding sites...the species, their habits, their weapons...you don’t know that yet, do you?” Tempest scowls at the mention of Enforcers, and for a second the optics darken and the grin fades...

Megatron picks up a bunch of metal sticks. “They use to work as a team.” Takes the bunch of metal with bothe hands. He can bend it a bit but not break. “A team increases your power and therefor the chances to survive.

Tempest sighs, looks up at him ruefully. “You’re trying to teach /me/ a lesson aren’t you?” she says flatly.

Megatron lays down the metal. He smirks. “More trying to explain a dream I have...”

Tempest says, quietly, “A dream? For who?” Tempest says, “I appreciate the sentiment, but it seems I’m not a team player...” Oh, she doesn’t want to think about this now...about her team, all dead, or about the trouble she had with the Decepticons...She trails off, shrugging, suddenly subdued and looking down at her half empty plate, avoiding his gaze.

Megatron shrugs. “As I said, I will not force you. But maybe you will not refuse an alliance.”

Tempest lifts her head at that. “That, I would agree to,” she says slowly, a light of hope in her optics.

Megatron smiles.

Tempest flicks at one of her helmet spires and says slowly, “You seem to not be asking me to be your plaything or your servent....”

Megatron smirks. “I came to this ship and the former captain wanted to make me a slave. I killed him. Megatron says, “If I would force you to be my... plaything or my servant, you would try to kill me as well, wouldn’t you?”

Tempest laughs! “Oh, on this factor I think we are agreed!” And again that devlish smile accompanied by glowing ruby optics, flashing amusement!

Megatron says, “And as I said to Lynch (I think it was him): if I have some pleasure with a lady, the pleasure has to be on both sides. For violence there is the battle.”

Tempest looks a little bewildered at that, but nods at the sentiment...she /does/ understand enough to realize that she will be safe here...but intuitively she knows that already, she is /convinced/ that somehow, this is Megatron...She smiles a little sleepily, so full from what she’s consumed...

Megatron smiles. “I think we should find you a place to sleep.”

Tempest nods a little. “Okay.” She rises, slowly, from the table. Tempest notices that the whole thing has some kind of weird dream like quality. It /must/ be the over-fuel...or maybe it also has to do with the fact that she came here expecting to kill an interloper in her territory, and instead found Megatron, /without/ any of the problems she’d been dealing with on Earth....

Megatron rubs his chin. “We don’t have much cabins, the crew members use to share them with each other.” He grins. “Only the captain has one for him alone...”

Tempest snorts a little, and mumbles, “If those two males of yours come anywhere near me you’re going to be short a few crew members.”

Megatron laughs. “I won’t doubt that! And I think not even /my/ charm would save /me/ if I tried!”

Tempest seems to be resigning herself to a restless night as she reaches into her carrying compartment and slides a--bracelet?--over her knuckles. A closer glance at the ornament shows something looking more like a sword hilt....

Megatron looks at it. Then he turn back to the topic. “There is still room in the cabin of Hellway and Keelhaul.” Megatron says, “Both are femmes. Otherwise you had to stay here with me.”

Tempest grumbles, “Oh yeah, the one who thought I was a pretender...yeah, that’s gonna go over well...” She looks at him and mutters, “I’d rather sleep on your couch again.”

Megatron says, “Again..?”

Tempest blinks at him. “You really /don’t/ remember anything earlier than the last...few months, do you?” She’s guessing...it’s been that long that she’s been gone from Earth.

Megatron says, “Actually a few... weeks.”

Tempest nods. More certain than ever that this is Megatron, she tags along beside him to follow wherever he leads her. Tempest does not elaborate on the couch issue, and in fact does not seem bothered by the lack of memory...she was simply confirming a fact, and seems neither happy nor disturbed by his answer.

Megatron rubs his chin. No, there is nothing. “Well, I don’t have a couch, but there is room on the floor... Just one thing, Storm...”

Tempest glances up at him, listening.

Megatron continues: “I don’t want to wake up having one of your weapons sticking in my armor. Especially not that.” He points at the “bracelet”. “Energy blade, I suppose.”

Tempest actually looks taken aback at the insinuation. Her lip does curl up a bit in amusement as she slides the bracelet off her fist. “Rokkan SwitchSword, in fact.” And...she holds it out to him. “Would you prefer to hang onto it yourself as insurance?” This is obviously a gesture of great trust from a pirate like her...

Megatron says, “No, keep it.”

Tempest nods, but puts it away. She is quite obviously a /lot/ more confortable with you than the idea of having to share quarters with your crew.

Megatron activates the intercom. “Hellway?”

A female voice answers: “Skipper?”

“Keep her on course, I’ll take a rest.”

“What about our... guest?”

“She’ll stay with me.”

You could hear someone whistle over radio. “Aye, Skipper.”

Megatron smirks and shakes his head. He deactivates the intercom.

Tempest growls softly, and it’s hard to tell if she’s joking or irritated as she quips, “And the rumours begin.”

Megatron chuckles. “Who cares.” He tosses her some blankets.

Tempest catches them and says back with a grin, “Not me.”

Megatron looks at her. “Storm... I like you. You are different from most individuals that use to inhabit this sector of the galaxy.” He walks over to his bed. “Sleep well.”

Tempest holds the blankets and looks after him a moment...then turns away and starts rearranging the blankets into some semblance of a nest on the floor, saving the biggest, fluffiest one for on top. She curls up, mumbling a little as she realizes that the floor is hard, and cold even through the blankets....oh well, she’s still slept on worse.

Megatron turns around, looking at the femme on the floor. He thinks shortly, then walks back to her. “You can have the bed,” he says.

Tempest mutters, “That ain’t fair to you, you’re the boss on this ship. I’ll live,” she rolls away from him trying to hide how damned uncomfortable this is.

Megatron says, “Oh, see, this is just selfish... If someone comes in this night, trying to assassinate me, he sure will assume me laying in my bed...”

Tempest giggles, and rolls over and sits up, looking up at him. “Do you honestly think I look like you?” she asks, with a roguish grin. “This paint...should be a giveaway to anyone.” And indeed, bright golden yellow is the most visible colour in the spectrum.

Megatron grins. “Take the bed, I see how uncomfortable this darn floor is. However, I am not too comfortable with the soft material of the bed.”

Tempest laughs and says, “Really. I’ve never heard a raider complain of too much comfort before. It’s...” A pause. “Something we have to take advantage of, in the small number of times when we have the opportunity to.” Tempest gets up slowly, still holding onto the big puffy blanket, but seems more interested in looking at Megatron than in taking the proffered bunk.

Megatron shrugs: “You really think this pillows and stuff is comfort? I don’t know...”

Tempest almost snaps, “Okay, so I /like/ soft things, do you mind?” Getting more than a little testy...in fact, she’s defensive of this, which goes so against her sharp-edged image.

Megatron says, “Good fuel, a good weapon, a pleasurable time... that is comfort for me.” Megatron lays down on the floor, not even using a blanket.

Tempest is still just standing there in front of him, as if not sure what to do...she drops down beside him, kneeling and looking down at him. “Do you even know what you’re missing?” she grumbles.

Megatron says, “If I don’t like soft beds?”

Tempest nods. She misses him...and is still somewhat afraid that she’s going to do something that’ll be misread...and realizes to her own surprise that she doesn’t really know what “misread” is, or what exactly is going on... Tempest spreads out her blanket and lies down nearby, still looking over at him

Megatron smirks. “I thought you like it soft.”

Tempest shrugs. “It’s not so bad.” The comforter /is/ fluffy but surely not that much of an improvement...it’s as if she doesn’t want to get too far from you, but granted, she hasn’t tried to get too /close/ either.

Megatron laughs. “Now we’re both laying on the floor and the bed is empty.”

Tempest tilts her head and grins...and rests one hand a little closer to him, off the comforter.

Megatron grins. “Well, if someone wants to assassinate me tonight... he will stumble over us and break his neck!” He laughs again.

Tempest does giggle at that, a lot, and coming from the sharp-edged pirate it is a strange sound but the smile on her face is genuine...the light catches under her helmet as she tips her head back and makes her look suddenly so much younger...in fact, as she curls up again, the helmet seems almost to rise as if it were loose on her head, overtop rather than attached.

Megatron realizes that the helmet is loose, but doesn’t mention it. He carefully puts another blanket over Tempest, then turns off the light and lays back down.

Tempest grins up at Megatron again. She’s stirring a little, curling up in that blanket, and her optic lids--yes, lids, somewhat different from standard Cybertronian design--are closed...silence a few moments, and then, a soft whimper....

Megatron turned to recharge - that light, wolf-like way to sleep, ready to be awake at the slightest danger. And that whimper makes him awake again. He looks over at Tempest. “What is wrong?” he asks quietly.

Tempest doesn’t answer. A closer glance will indicate she is quite likely asleep and doesn’t hear him. She flips over suddenly, bumping into his arm...and her frame freezes, goes utterly rigid, though her optics are still shut....

Megatron says, “Storm?” Megatron touches her arm. “Storm, wake up. You’re having a nightmare...”

Tempest’s optic lids suddenly snap wide and for a second she stares blankly at him, still frozen...then she sees who he is, and relaxes against him. Tempest casts her gaze downward and mutters, “Yeah,” in agreement to the nightmare statement. She’s still lying against him.

Megatron smiles at her, camingly. “Whatever it was - it is over now.” His hand still rests on her arm.

Tempest gives him a bit of a smile...and rather surprisingly, curls up against him. Tempest’s movement is perhaps not what you’d expect...nothing about it is a come-on...no sultry stares, no slinky movements, no teasing comments. On the other hand she is very near...and is quite relaxed about it. Her frame is cool, almost cold...

Megatron is indeed a tad surprised, having the femme so close. But he knows what it means to have a nightmare. So he pulls the blanket over her and holds her in his arm.

Tempest nuzzles right up to him...she shuts her optic lids and relaxes, and the smile on her face right now isn’t the least bit devilish, in fact, perhaps there still is a little bit of the angel in this one somewhere after all...

Megatron slowly turns to recharge again, murmuring: “My poor Storm, so cold...”

Tempest nuzzles right up to him and slowly starts to warm up a little...she opens an optic one crack and grins at him. “You aren’t common Spaceways scum, you don’t have the mannerisms,” she informs him.

Megatron says, “I am who I am.” Megatron says, “Whoever I am anyway...”

Tempest pauses. Part of her was about to try to explain Megatron’s past to him, as far as she knew it. And then she realizes that if she does, he’ll leave...back to Earth, back to his Empire, back to his mourning for Nightbird. And she will be alone again. Tempest forces those thoughts from her mind and says, with a grin, “Your crew shares quarters for a reason, not simply lack of space...It is a defense mechanism. To sleep alone is dangerous, it invites attack. If you are asleep who is watching your back? Who is facing the /other/ direction from which danger may come?”

Megatron smirks at her. “I haven’t found someone yet... or have I?”

Tempest says, “I believe we were planning to trip some assassins?”

.Megatron laughs and hugs her with that one arm he holds her already. “You are right!”

Tempest’s fuel tank churns in the dark. She is feeling a bit of guilt for not telling Megatron everything she knows. She’s also feeling guilt for having this distraction from her true mission--the real reason she left the Decepticons. Her new purpose in life. Guilt is a new concept for her. She pushes it out of her mind, knowing someday Soundwave and Shockwave will find Megatron and take him back...why not enjoy what she has while it lasts? Why give this up sooner than she has to? She decides to take full advantage of the situation--as always, living for the moment--and then blocks these thoughts from her mind.

Tempest feels...pretty damn good, though she herself does not understand the emotions roiling through her processor, and it’s with an unusual expression of joy that she hugs him back, just enjoying the feeling...

Megatron tries to recharge again. Somehow he is glad not to be alone this night.

Tempest figures at this point that thinking is just going to ruin her unexpectedly enjoyable night, and besides, everything has the slight haze of too much warmth and fuel...she’s just going on instinct, and nuzzling Megatron’s cheek with her nose is something she does without ever considering...

Megatron looks at her, smiling. “You seem to feel quite well now,” he whispers. Megatron rubs softly over Tempest’s cheek.

Tempest is somewhat startled by his words and is snapped back to herself, a little. She twitches with surprise and draws back, staring wide eyed at him, an expression of shock and confusion, questioning somehow...

Megatron says, “Did I do something wrong?”

Tempest doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening entirely...but you can feel her engines purring. She considers the question. “I...don’t know...”

Megatron is obviously confused. “You really seemed to feel comfortable.”

Tempest curls against his chest and suddenly seems to realize just exactly how powerful Megatron really is...and for a second something in her head demands to know what she’s doing here, what kind of game she thinks she’s playing, and reminds her that Megatron is not the sort of person she can simply get to do whatever she wants...but then again, maybe that’s part of the appeal...the challenge, maybe? Or simply having someone she cannot simply order around... Tempest looks self conscious as she admits, “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing,” seeming somewhat ashamed...

Megatron looks at her for a while. “You are a female and I am a male. Maybe there is the problem,” he supposes. “Maybe you should think again about my offer to take the bed.” Yes, he likes her for some reason, but he also realizes something is scaring her.

Tempest says, “I don’t want to,” her optics still wide. It’s like she’s both attracted, and frightened by her own attraction....but you haven’t scared her enough to get her to run....

Megatron looks a bit helpless. He feels the urge to help her, realizing her fear, but doesn’t know how.

Tempest takes a deep breath into her intakes and nuzzles back up to him again, very slowly relaxing....

Megatron holds her carefully. He doesn’t want to have her go. Having her close feels somehow... familiar.

Tempest murmurs in his audio, “I’m not very exciting am I.” Sounding rather rueful. Tempest sighs, “Maybe you should have kicked some of your pirate femmes out of their cabin, put me there, and found someone more interesting to stay here.”

Megatron says, “But I want /you/ to stay here.”

Tempest favours him with a smile, at that, and nuzzles him with her nose again. She seems quite starved for affection...

Megatron dares to caress Tempest’s cheek again.

Tempest purrs, closing her optic lids...she likes that.

Megatron smiles as she doesn’t seem to be scared this time. So he continues.

Tempest leans forward, closer...bumps her nose against Megatron’s, hard, and draws back just a little in surprise.

Megatron complaints: “Ouch!” But he does it with a smile.

Tempest tries to force a weak grin back at Megatron and looks mostly embarrassed

Megatron rubs with his forefinger along her nose. “Do you often attack men with you nose?” he ask, smiling.

Tempest seems honestly ashamed now, and says, in an uncharacteristic whisper, “I’m sorry.” All the confidence she has in fighting is nowhere to be seen now. She doesn’t even pick up that he is teasing. Tempest quite clearly knows almost nothing here...

Megatron smiles. “It’s all right. Maybe I know what you wanted. Tell me if I am wrong...” He softly kisses Tempest’s nose.

Tempest freezes...and then is suddenly more relaxed than ever, and, unable to speak, simply nods to indicate that he has guessed right...

Megatron looks at her for a while. And then realizes something: “You sure had to learn what interfacing is, but... there has been no tenderness in your life...”

Tempest looks suddenly, inexplicably, guilty at that...there is a pause as she searches for words, drawing back only a little though she stays next to him, andshe says, “I...had...once I had a friend...”

Megatron looks at her, waiting patiently.

Tempest struggles for words here...expression flickering between guilt, pain, the odd flash of anger...and finally the only sound she succeeds in making is a dry sob.

Megatron says, “What happened to your friend.”

Tempest /really/ didn’t want to talk about this now...in fact, she’d almost managed to forget what had been on her mind constantly these past few months...she chokes, sobs again, forces a syllable... “En...” And then, as if furious with herself, the manner changes. The body goes stark rigid. The head snaps upwards, the optics flame with hellish fury, and the voice says in a strong but soulless tone, “Enforcers.”

Megatron sets his jawplates. “They got him.”

Tempest nods, looking down again...but she must not, cannot, cry... She lets go of Megatron and tucks her arms up beside her, still close by but not holding onto him any more. Guilt, again. What is this concept? Tempest’s face is troubled as she debates something within her head...her thoughts trying to reconcile the logical fact that she has nothing to be guilty for, with some inner level that insists she does.

Megatron rubs softly over her shoulder. “Was that the one I reminded you of?” He still tries to understand the connections.

Tempest shakes her head. “No...you were...the one who put me back together...the Enforcers...my crew...and me, the last survivor.../again/.”

Megatron says, “I? Oh, the other one...”

Tempest nods. “When I...had nothing left...you found me.”

Megatron hugs, or at least tries to hug her if she allows it, hoping to calm her down a bit.

Tempest does let him hug her, in fact she rather likes it. She says...to him, or to herself? Maybe to both... “Thinking about the past is only going to hurt us both.” Tempest tilts her head, smiles at him slightly. “That’s what you learn out here...to live for the moment. It may be your last...at any rate, in the end it’s all you have...right here, right now. The past is dead, the future may not come. This is all...so make the most of it.”

Megatron answers, without remembering that he said the same to her once before: “You are not alone, Tempest.” He looks at her. “I am here.”