He hadn't even fully rebooted when a coded message to himself popped up on the HUD, merely asking if he wanted to run a particular equation sequence. Since he knew what it was, Megatron's only hesitation was if he should...
But if he didn't, and no assistance was forthcoming from his current 'jailor'... frankly, in the end, he would prefer the simpler consort programming rather than a full-blown shell program. That decided, he allowed the "equation sequence" to start running, which was, in fact, the hacking program. He wouldn't be able to use that again towards the harem-coding.
Someone would notice it before that, if anything, when the shell-program was finally routed, since that would briefly bring him offline for a hard reboot whenever (and if) it happened.
That done, the reboot continued and Megatron noted with dry acceptance that they'd disabled his comms. Not unexpected, and for now, he was even relieved, even if there were surely other ways for... whoever it was who had made it... to active the program.
Finally sitting up, Megatron stared at his right hand; as good (and whole) as new. The tread that the Prime had managed to tear up was numb, and therefore, healing. Straightening, Megatron looked around, noting that he still was in the actual harem quarters and not anywhere else, ready, still, to face whatever the Prime would throw at him.
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branchandroot
OPPRESSION!
Date: 2012-04-10 07:04 pm (UTC)But if he didn't, and no assistance was forthcoming from his current 'jailor'... frankly, in the end, he would prefer the simpler consort programming rather than a full-blown shell program. That decided, he allowed the "equation sequence" to start running, which was, in fact, the hacking program. He wouldn't be able to use that again towards the harem-coding.
Someone would notice it before that, if anything, when the shell-program was finally routed, since that would briefly bring him offline for a hard reboot whenever (and if) it happened.
That done, the reboot continued and Megatron noted with dry acceptance that they'd disabled his comms. Not unexpected, and for now, he was even relieved, even if there were surely other ways for... whoever it was who had made it... to active the program.
Finally sitting up, Megatron stared at his right hand; as good (and whole) as new. The tread that the Prime had managed to tear up was numb, and therefore, healing. Straightening, Megatron looked around, noting that he still was in the actual harem quarters and not anywhere else, ready, still, to face whatever the Prime would throw at him.