Nautica hadn't wanted for maintenance a day in her life, and as awful as she knew, intellectually, that the Senate and its enforcers had been, it hadn't occurred to her that the pre-War rulers would let an entire class of people go to scrap simply because of their alt modes. Granted, Megatron was one of the most troublesome members of his class and they'd probably stuck him in a hole somewhere and hoped a tunnel would collapse on him, but still. Lousy way to run a government, if you asked her.

"Oh." Though she was taken aback for a second, Nautica shifted mental gears readily enough. It wasn't Megatron's fault his society withheld basic medical care, after all. "Well, if gain's a problem on your end, I can pump out a lot of power--radio attenuates fast underwater--but we can still pick out a meeting place as a backup."

She was thinking a park bench, or maybe something near a nice conspicuous landmark. When Megatron tried to pick a drainage pipe or something they were going to have to do some negotiating.