The Fall and Rise of An Ancient (GOTP story)

2. Welcome to Telen

Megatron couldn't think of the last time he had just rested. Not hastily recovering from some injury, or deep in a coma with a hole blasted through his chest, not even the grasp of death-though brief- had been restful, or left him feeling as rejuvenated as he felt when his optics opened once more.

Sitting in the quiet had barely gentled his thoughts, but he'd swallowed down the energon Scribe had brought to him; he at least needed to heal enough to leave the berth. That was the first step to leaving these tiny villagers behind.

Unfortunately, this energon had seemed to have an unusual effect on him. Nothing about it had seemed out of the ordinary for a typical batch, and yet after finishing it, he had found himself feeling very drowsy. Had it been tampered with? Had these tiny bots drugged him?

As his optics opened, he heard movement in the room, and instinct took over. He sat up and aimed his fusion cannon in one swift motion, though he found that his fusion cannon did not activate.

What it was pointed at was another Telensi, taller than the others that had previously been there, and dressed in garments marked with tassels and swirling silver threads. He seemed to not be bothered by the warlord's actions at all, merely giving him a glance and then returning to the scribbling he was doing on a sheet of fabric on a slab of stone.

Once it was determined there was no threat, Megatron found his framing feeling heavy again, and his arm dropped to the berth with a clank.

"Morning." The telensi mumbled, "Better?"
Megatron didn't speak at first, trying to determine what this telensi might be in the room for. The telensi scribbled some more, and then paused to look up at him once more. "...Are you better?" He repeated.

Megatron frowned, "I suppose... What happened to me? What did you put in that... Sacred fuel?"

The Telensi raised a brow slightly, "Put?"

"You must have done something. I have not slept like that in a long time."

"You are exhausted."

"How could I be this exhausted if I have been out for three years?"

The telensi tilted his head, his expression flatter than the Acid Wastes. "Unconsciousness is not rest, Ancient."

This telensi wasn't speaking in broken sentences, "You speak better than the others do."

"Better is a relative term. I am naturally gifted with the understanding of others, hence why The High Gatewatcher has me for his aide."

Megatron blinked, lifting a hand to rub the slumber from his face. "High Gatewatcher..."

"Our leader. Wise in his ways, long in his reign." The telensi slipped his tablet into a satchel tucked under his shawl, "You met my sister. Scribe."

Now that the warlord looked, the telensi did look like the little femme. "Yes... I did."

"She is happy to see you awake." The telensi frowned, "...I am not as happy."

"Why?"

"You bear deep wounds. You are a fighter. The Telensi do not need bloodlust in our city."

Finally, someone on this planet who wanted him gone. "I see..."

"You are in no condition to fight, or run. I have no intention of chasing you out because of this. But know this, I do not trust you, Ancient, as much as my sister may..."

"I have given you no reason to trust me."

The curtain to the room moved and another telensi peeked in, murmuring something in a cautious tone to the aide. It was not in a tongue Megatron knew, but the skeptic's name was at least intelligible: Stonerook. The other continually gave Megatron quick glances as he spoke, and Stonerook responded in a way that made the other frown. Both of them then left the room, with Stonerook pausing at the door. "Rest, Ancient. The sooner you recover, the sooner you may leave..."