by Shadowshock & Klick
"Board the rocket."
Megatron's voice rang out with ultimate command.
"Now!"
He raised his fusion cannon and pointed it at Optimus Prime's head to emphasize his point. His eyes were full of gleaming malice as he stared into Optimus's soft blue ones, daring him to defy the Decepticon Lord.
Had he known that at that instant he himself was framed in the crosshairs of a powerful weapon, the look would have quickly disappeared.
Just try it, Megatron, the Transformer behind the crosshairs thought coldly, his finger barely a hair's breadth from the trigger. His eyes were hidden behind his visor, but his mouth was tight with determination. Just dare to shoot him. Dare to shoot at any of them.
He was a large Transformer, his dominant color a dirt brown with thin streaks of yellow outlining patches of darker brown. A helmet covered the top and back of his head, curving down to connect under his chin. On the back of his lower legs, large air intakes slanted outward and down from below his knee before abruptly angling back into his leg. The heels of his large feet contained the turbine engines.
His name was Dusty.
And he'd be smelted in the Center Core if Megatron fired on his fellow Autobots without Dusty retaliating.
The rest of the Decepticons had pointed their weapons as well, and the air between the two factions throbbed with tension as the seconds ticked by. Then Prime turned away and headed toward the elevator that would cart them to the rocket. Dusty was positive the Decepticons had built or at least helped to build the rocket. It had too many Cybertronian characteristics to be solely human work.
Prime's retreat was a silent signal to the rest of the Autobots, and they turned as well, following their leader under the guns of their enemy. Their respect for their leader's authority outweighed their personal opinions... for now.
Dusty respected the Autobot leader just as much. He had fought next to Optimus Prime and Prime had earned his respect. He had seen the leader keep going, never stopping till he had done all he could for his soldiers -- and then pushing himself even farther. But Dusty didn't, couldn't, agree with all of his methods. The fact that he was on his belly watching the others leave testified to that.
Yes, he respected Optimus Prime greatly, differences and all. But he wouldn't allow the gem planet of Earth to be shattered by the Decepticons, leaving the humans with a home that would not be a home because it would be so barren, as they had left his home on Cyberton.
Not this time. Not when he could do something about it.
The Autobots had boarded the rocket and moments later the engines flared to life and pushed it into the sky, towards the coldness of space. Dusty's deep blue visor darkened to almost black as it adjusted to the brightness of the flames, allowing him see without much hindrance as the Decepticons and humans left the premises.
He watched the transport ship carrying the Autobot army as it faded to a black speck before vanishing into the darkening sky. Rising, Dusty turned his back on the launch pad and tossed his Autobot patches away as he stared grim-faced into the setting sun. It was half hidden by the distant hills and was turning red, almost the red of Megatron's optics. He thought he remembered one of the humans saying that the reason it changed colors at sunset was because of all the floating dust particles in the air.
Fitting.
With a sudden leap, he transformed into a hovercraft and streaked across the sparse terrain.
I'd love to hear your reactions to the story! Constructive criticism is welcomed, especially if you spot typos or canon inaccuracies (besides Dusty himself!). Flames are a no-no. Oh yeah, I don't own anything belonging to Hasbro.