Ah, she noticed the weapon mounts on my arm were looking a tad lonely and took the initiative herself. One of the more practical members of this organic station, I’d say.

[The warm heat from the cannon grows the more it fires, and eventually Megatron lowers that arm to let it expel the strain of the systems and recover. The dimensional oscillation allowing those cannon blasts to rip through the tentacles hadn’t quite been perfected and could destabilize with overuse. If Drift looked, he might noticed some spatial weirdness occasionally splitting out of the barrel along with the blast.]

[If there was any reason to worry, though, Megatron didn’t seem to express it. He had a similar issue with the first fusion cannon he’d strapped to his arm. His first iteration of the weapon was newer tech stolen from the Senate - still couldn’t quite get the antimatter core to avoid getting pissy without a little cool down time.]

[He still has a free fist, however, and he uses it to punch through any non-tentacled Catastrophist ships that were unfortunate enough to get within his grasp.]

Incoming - to your left.