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Description
Every Autobot since the end of the War had heard stories of Megatron. Tyrant, warlord, city-killer, some even called him the emissary of Unicron himself -- but that only when they were certain no member of the Council or Elite Guard could hear, for to speak of Unicron was to imply the existence of Primus, and to believe in Primus was to imply that there was a higher power than the Magnus. The Council tended to frown on that.
Optimus tried to squirm out of the grip of the giant who'd pulled him out of the Ark, but Lugnut merely laughed off his attempts. The Decepticons, with the exception of two insectoids lingering near the back, were all well over twice the age of any of Optimus's crew. In fact, it seemed likely that some were as old as Ratchet, and had probably fought in the War.
Speaking of the War...

Lugnut hauled Optimus to what he guessed was the bridge of the nightmare ship, where the harsh light of some kind of stellar phenomenon made it hard to make out the figure framed against the viewports. Nevertheless, the young Prime guessed who it was when Lugnut knelt, dragging Optimus down with him. Peripherally, Optimus could see the Decepticons who had captured Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Ratchet doing the same. Allspark only knew where Prowl was.

"My lord Megatron," Lugnut announced in a drawing room bellow, "We bring you the spies, caught trespassing in your territory!"

"Spies?!" For a moment, Optimus let indignation outweigh a very healthy fear. "Now hold on just a nanoklik, we're not spies! We didn't even know anyone was out here!"
Dimly it occurred to him that a barely ranking Prime that the Council was doing its best to forget -- thank you, Sentinel, for that -- had no business addressing a supposedly extinct villain of legend, but it was too late now.

"Spies?" The word was repeated slowly in a low, rasping hiss that brought to mind steel sliding from a scabbard. Megatron turned and burning optics searched Optimus's for a moment. The red lights narrowed in evident disgust. "These are talking infants, Lugnut. No more than a few vorns behind them at best. Have the Autobots grown desperate, or have they grown lazy?"

"Probably both?" The triple-changer remarked, then wisely clammed up when Megatron fixed him with a withering look.

The half-mythical Decepticon lord moved away from the viewport and stood over Lugnut and Optimus, who had to crane his neck to look into the mech's optics. Despite the fact that he was more frightened now than he'd been in a long time, Optimus somehow felt that he could not afford to look away. He could barely make out Megatron's facial features now, and blinked as they rapidly cycled from disgusted boredom to surprise to rage.
Megatron seized Optimus by the neck and tore him from Lugnut's grasp.

"Who formatted you?" he demanded, "What is your designation?"

For a moment, the smaller mech's vocoder failed him, and he stuttered in panic before managing to gasp out, "My name is Optimus Prime, and nobody formatted me! The protoform molded to my spark like this!" He wasn't sure why he felt the need to defend his appearance to a Decepticon who was probably going to kill him, but the flare of irritation was a welcome distraction from terror.

Megatron whirled around and stalked back to the viewport, with the Autobot still dangling helplessly from his grip. "Helm, take us two degrees starboard and raise shields," he growled. "Take us into the storm."

"Aye sir," the femme, who seemed no older than Optimus, scurried to change course.
So. He was mad, then. Something about the way Optimus looked had evidently angered him so much that he was going to fly them into a maelstrom and kill them all.
But then, none of the Decepticons seemed particularly concerned by this. If anything, a few looked excited.

"Optimus Prime." Megatron's half contemplative tone drew Optimus's attention once more. "Now that is a designation I haven't heard since..." he did not finish the thought. Instead, he glanced back down at his prisoner with contempt. "Who named you, ~boy~?"
The last word was in a language wholly unknown to Optimus. It sounded almost organic, and jangled about his processor useless and untranslated. His instinct was to remain silent, but for his crew's sake he did not wish to further antagonize the giant.
"Kup, in basic training," he answered sullenly. There, let the old monster puzzle that one out on his own.

But rather than look confused, Megatron laughed harshly. "Of course it was one of the old guard," he said flatly. "Tell me, little one, did Kup tell you what he named you for? Who he named you for?"
His smirk turned cruel when he recognized utter confusion on the young Autobot's face. This was the disadvantage of the Autobots being in possession of the Allspark for so long. They kept making new Bots, giving difficult tasks to younger and younger Cybertronians, and now there was one with no knowledge of the First Prime whose name he carried. It was wonderfully ironic, in a way.

"And yet..." Megatron relaxed his arm just enough to let Optimus's pedes touch the deck plating as the ship rattled with the force of the storm. "And yet there is something of my brother in you, that I can almost sense. Something more than this childlike resemblance. Tis nearly enough to make one believe in bloodlines."

For a split second, Optimus turned his optics away to meet Ratchet's. There was stark horror in the old medic's gaze, and Optimus wasn't sure if it was to do with their situation or Megatron's words. Suddenly he collapsed on the deck with a grunt as Megatron abruptly opened his hand and let him fall.

"Almost," Megatron murmured, as if unaware that anyone might hear him, "Almost I could find it in my spark to spare him. Primus knows we've use for young blood aboard the Nemesis."

Heedless of his undignified appearance, Optimus scrambled back as quickly as possible, freezing when the pirate turned a stern glare on him again.

"Hm. But I sense an old defiance in you. I might have taught you myself were it not for that. A pity you must die for the sins of your ~forefather~. There would be a much greater irony in keeping you alive."
Another word Optimus didn't recognize, but he guessed it wasn't a good thing.
When the lights flickered out a second later, he realized he'd forgotten about Prowl.
Evidently, so had the Decepticons.

Description
Every Autobot since the end of the War had heard stories of Megatron. Tyrant, warlord, city-killer, some even called him the emissary of Unicron himself -- but that only when they were certain no member of the Council or Elite Guard could hear, for to speak of Unicron was to imply the existence of Primus, and to believe in Primus was to imply that there was a higher power than the Magnus. The Council tended to frown on that.
Optimus tried to squirm out of the grip of the giant who'd pulled him out of the Ark, but Lugnut merely laughed off his attempts. The Decepticons, with the exception of two insectoids lingering near the back, were all well over twice the age of any of Optimus's crew. In fact, it seemed likely that some were as old as Ratchet, and had probably fought in the War.
Speaking of the War...

Lugnut hauled Optimus to what he guessed was the bridge of the nightmare ship, where the harsh light of some kind of stellar phenomenon made it hard to make out the figure framed against the viewports. Nevertheless, the young Prime guessed who it was when Lugnut knelt, dragging Optimus down with him. Peripherally, Optimus could see the Decepticons who had captured Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Ratchet doing the same. Allspark only knew where Prowl was.

"My lord Megatron," Lugnut announced in a drawing room bellow, "We bring you the spies, caught trespassing in your territory!"

"Spies?!" For a moment, Optimus let indignation outweigh a very healthy fear. "Now hold on just a nanoklik, we're not spies! We didn't even know anyone was out here!"
Dimly it occurred to him that a barely ranking Prime that the Council was doing its best to forget -- thank you, Sentinel, for that -- had no business addressing a supposedly extinct villain of legend, but it was too late now.

"Spies?" The word was repeated slowly in a low, rasping hiss that brought to mind steel sliding from a scabbard. Megatron turned and burning optics searched Optimus's for a moment. The red lights narrowed in evident disgust. "These are talking infants, Lugnut. No more than a few vorns behind them at best. Have the Autobots grown desperate, or have they grown lazy?"

"Probably both?" The triple-changer remarked, then wisely clammed up when Megatron fixed him with a withering look.

The half-mythical Decepticon lord moved away from the viewport and stood over Lugnut and Optimus, who had to crane his neck to look into the mech's optics. Despite the fact that he was more frightened now than he'd been in a long time, Optimus somehow felt that he could not afford to look away. He could barely make out Megatron's facial features now, and blinked as they rapidly cycled from disgusted boredom to surprise to rage.
Megatron seized Optimus by the neck and tore him from Lugnut's grasp.

"Who formatted you?" he demanded, "What is your designation?"

For a moment, the smaller mech's vocoder failed him, and he stuttered in panic before managing to gasp out, "My name is Optimus Prime, and nobody formatted me! The protoform molded to my spark like this!" He wasn't sure why he felt the need to defend his appearance to a Decepticon who was probably going to kill him, but the flare of irritation was a welcome distraction from terror.

Megatron whirled around and stalked back to the viewport, with the Autobot still dangling helplessly from his grip. "Helm, take us two degrees starboard and raise shields," he growled. "Take us into the storm."

"Aye sir," the femme, who seemed no older than Optimus, scurried to change course.
So. He was mad, then. Something about the way Optimus looked had evidently angered him so much that he was going to fly them into a maelstrom and kill them all.
But then, none of the Decepticons seemed particularly concerned by this. If anything, a few looked excited.

"Optimus Prime." Megatron's half contemplative tone drew Optimus's attention once more. "Now that is a designation I haven't heard since..." he did not finish the thought. Instead, he glanced back down at his prisoner with contempt. "Who named you, ~boy~?"
The last word was in a language wholly unknown to Optimus. It sounded almost organic, and jangled about his processor useless and untranslated. His instinct was to remain silent, but for his crew's sake he did not wish to further antagonize the giant.
"Kup, in basic training," he answered sullenly. There, let the old monster puzzle that one out on his own.

But rather than look confused, Megatron laughed harshly. "Of course it was one of the old guard," he said flatly. "Tell me, little one, did Kup tell you what he named you for? Who he named you for?"
His smirk turned cruel when he recognized utter confusion on the young Autobot's face. This was the disadvantage of the Autobots being in possession of the Allspark for so long. They kept making new Bots, giving difficult tasks to younger and younger Cybertronians, and now there was one with no knowledge of the First Prime whose name he carried. It was wonderfully ironic, in a way.

"And yet..." Megatron relaxed his arm just enough to let Optimus's pedes touch the deck plating as the ship rattled with the force of the storm. "And yet there is something of my brother in you, that I can almost sense. Something more than this childlike resemblance. Tis nearly enough to make one believe in bloodlines."

For a split second, Optimus turned his optics away to meet Ratchet's. There was stark horror in the old medic's gaze, and Optimus wasn't sure if it was to do with their situation or Megatron's words. Suddenly he collapsed on the deck with a grunt as Megatron abruptly opened his hand and let him fall.

"Almost," Megatron murmured, as if unaware that anyone might hear him, "Almost I could find it in my spark to spare him. Primus knows we've use for young blood aboard the Nemesis."

Heedless of his undignified appearance, Optimus scrambled back as quickly as possible, freezing when the pirate turned a stern glare on him again.

"Hm. But I sense an old defiance in you. I might have taught you myself were it not for that. A pity you must die for the sins of your ~forefather~. There would be a much greater irony in keeping you alive."
Another word Optimus didn't recognize, but he guessed it wasn't a good thing.
When the lights flickered out a second later, he realized he'd forgotten about Prowl.
Evidently, so had the Decepticons.