Author's note: I found Megatron's character development in "Predacons Rising" to be a very interesting plot twist. When it comes down to it, Megatron started out as a sort of hero, and became corrupt over time. I think Unicron more or less made him see the corruption in himself, and reminded him of why he fought to begin with. It was an unexpected ending, to be sure.
That, combined with the uncertainty of Starscream's fate, inspired me to write this fic. Hope you like it! :)
(I chose to refer to Predaking as both "he" and "it" in this story, depending on whose perspective the narrative is currently focused on. Obviously Predaking would consider himself a "he", but Starscream always tends to refer to the Predacons as "its". So, for the sake of consistency in the characters, I went both ways. Hopefully it doesn't come off as confusing. ^_^;;)
Please R&R, I appreciate it immensely. ^_^
Predaking bore down on his quarry with a vengeful ferocity. In his meta, he could still hear the crackle of the electrified prod, feel its bite against his armor... Behind him, he saw his fellow Predacons shifting restlessly, scraping at the floor with thirsty claws, longing to sate their bloodlust.
This retribution is mine alone, their leader thought pointedly. They may pick at the bones when I am through.
The dragon returned full attention to his victim. He had the seeker pinned, his long talons piercing through each of his once-tormentor's wings, binding him flat to the floor. Craning his long neck, Predaking peered downwards at the pitiful creature, and delighted in the sight of the horror-stricken optics that gazed back.
No belittling words for me now? No telling me to return to my 'kennel'? Surely you cannot fear me, great Air Commander Starscream?
Feeling a rush of vindication, the Predacon buried his blade-like talons in his captive's chest.
...
Tyrant. In the end, is that to be my legacy? Is that all that I have given to my world? An enemy, in which all of Cybertron may unite in loathing?
That was not how it had begun. He was to correct a flawed system, bring equality and justice...
His thoughts flashed to Unicron. Parallels surfaced in the former Decepticon leader's meta, between The Destroyer and himself: the fallen, would-be champion.
Torturer. Murderer.
Hadn't those been the things he had planned to eliminate? The mistreatment of the lower castes? The needless carnage of the gladiatorial pits? When had the arena ceased being a prison, a necessary evil and become instead a place of comfort, familiarity, and standing? When had the means to an end become the end?
Power-mad. Egotist.
The very labels he had pinned to his oppressors, so long ago.
Tyrant.
Ah, yes. The bottom line. The fruit born of his labors for justice, of his struggles for the good of Cybertron. A tyrant, perhaps no better or worse than the tyrants who had lorded over him. Perhaps no different at all.
A weary sigh left Megatron's glossa, part defeat, part regret, and part... disgust. Disgust for ideals twisted beyond recognition, and for the weakness of his own spark. That he would see himself reflected in Unicron...
A sharp, electronic signal roused him from his musings.
It was his comm unit, now simply a relic of a meaningless war. He nearly crushed the device in his fist, so as to be rid of the unwelcome souvenir, but his curiosity won out. Accepting the incoming signal, he found it to be a distress beacon. It had clearly been sent from a damaged device; the data was mangled to the point of illegibility.
Who?
Some stranded Vehicon, unaware of the war's end? Shockwave, hoping to locate his absent leader? The Autobots, having acquired the Decepticon frequency from Knock Out? Megatron worked to decipher the origins of the signal, and at last succeeded.
Starscream.
Of course. Only Starscream would manage to imperil himself at the dawn of a new age of peace. Megatron brushed it off, an exasperated groan escaping him.
Starscream can dig his own way out of the pits he creates for himself.
A memory flickered through the warlord's meta. Pain, as the Starsaber pierced his spark chamber. Vision clouding as his life-force faded. Starscream, rushing to the edge of the platform above, expression aghast, calling to his fallen master and poised to either aid or avenge him.
Or to see for certain that I was expired, that he might claim leadership for himself, the mech thought bitterly.
The distress signal repeated itself.
...
"P-predaking, wait! You desire the proliferation of your proud species, do you not? I can gather fossils, CNA! I can make more of... of...," Starscream's optics reeled as he weakly motioned towards Skylynx and Darksteel. "Them! Your followers would never have been, were it not for my laborious efforts! Just let me find Shockwave, my... ah... assistant... and I'll gladly revive an army of Predacons to serve you!"
The seeker knew he was grasping at straws, counting on the hulking beast's ignorance. The jet's only real role in Project Predacon had been the collection of fossil fragments... something the three beasts could easily manage on their own.
The dragon sneered in response. So much for that bluff. The trapped flyer searched desperately for another bit of leverage he could use. As if reading his thoughts, the beast let out a low growl that seemed to say: 'You have nothing to offer me.'
His distress signal, which he had activated in desperation as Predaking threw him to the ground, went unanswered. It was a small, implanted device, which all Decepticons were fitted with. It allowed them to silently signal for rescue using undetectable mental commands.
The technology had worked brilliantly in its early days; Decepticons would allow themselves to be captured, then activate the beacon, revealing the whereabouts of countless Autobot bases in the process. However, their adversaries soon deduced what was happening, and began to install interference technology to counteract it. Unimpeded, though, the signals could easily span the entirety of a planet, even reach some distance in space.
Now if only it would do me any good.
Starscream sounded it again, redundantly, but felt no real hope. It would only broadcast on a Decepticon frequency, and the Decepticons were scattered, broken...
Disbanded, he remembered, feeling fresh grief.
Fluid brimmed in the captured mech's optics. He was fixated, almost hypnotized, as the Predacon slowly raised one foreleg and brought massive talons to rake over his left wing. An audio-shattering scream resonated through the throne room. Energon surfaced, filling the fresh trenches in the seeker's plating.
"P-p-please... No...," he sobbed submissively.
This could not be how it ended.
Predaking made a soft, humming sound, something like a purr. Then, with a sharp, whip-like motion, the beast brought it's jaws down to Starscream's opposite wing and yanked roughly. Another high-pitched cry pierced the air as the wing tore almost completely loose from the flyer's frame. Energon began to pool beneath the severely damaged mech.
Not even in battle. Not even as a warrior. As a useless victim.
With a victorious roar, the Predacon clamped it's jaws over the seeker's right arm and lifted him, choking and howling in pain, into the air. The dragon let it's captive dangle momentarily, then threw him. There was the sickening sound of buckling metal as the mech hit one of the broad pillars and fell, slumped, to the floor. The beast closed the distance between them and rested one claw on it's victim's chest, lowering it's head to stare into the eyes of the whimpering figure once more.
No. No...
The sound of high-pitched propulsion jets pierced the unbearable silence, and Starscream was sure his audios were malfunctioning.
It sounds like...
The seeker tried to banish the false hope. His audios were damaged, creating empty noise. That was all it could be.
Predaking lifted it's talons to the trapped mech's throat, digging into his plating and creating deep tracks down to his chest. The beast clawed with slow, excruciating precision, digging through Starscream's already damaged chassis, deeper and deeper, down into his spark chamber... The helpless mech stifled a sob of desperation. His awareness was fading...
No, no, no...
The screeching in his audios turned to a roar, and the world suddenly became a blur of flashing images.
Am I offlining?
The beast's crushing weight, gone. Another roar... Different this time. Predaking? The clash of metal against metal. A shouting voice, so familiar... Fire in the air. Energon, the taste of energon. The flash of wings... Sounds of battle: crashing, striking, weapons firing.
With the fragments of strength he had left, the delirious seeker twisted his head in the direction of the noises.
Mega...tron...?
Impossibly, yes. Megatron's jet mode had rammed Predaking, throwing the beast off of Starscream and nearly off the ledge of the fortress-top. The Predacon had managed to regain it's balance and was now locked in combat with the ex-gladiator. The other two beasts were circling the fight unsurely, as if waiting for a cue from their leader.
Several of the pillars crowning the Decepticon fortress had sustained damage from the impacts and stray shots of the battle. Predaking's massive body had slammed against one of the thinner columns when Megatron had thrown him, and pieces of it were crumbling over the scene. The former warlord sidestepped a jagged chunk of the debris, then glanced up to its source. The dragon was advancing, snapping it's jaws resentfully at the intruder, but Megatron drew short of it's fangs, backpedaling as if in retreat. The provoked creature pressed forward, allowing it's adversary to lure it where he pleased. At last, the former warlord ceased his withdrawal, raising his arm-mounted cannon to fire-past the beast and towards the pointed tip of the damaged pillar above. He then aimed the weapon squarely at the Predacon, whose throat was glowing red with pent up flame, preparing a fatal breath of fire. The plummeting wreckage freed by the cannon-shot struck before the dragon could loose the attack, one jagged edge wedging itself into the beast's side like a blade. There was a roar of shocked anguish, and the monster collapsed, it's underlings rushing to it's side.
In the next instant, Starscream felt a tremendous force strike him, sending him flying past the edge of the broken chamber and into the empty air.
Pain... Am I flying? No... Falling...
The seeker instinctually tried to transform despite his condition, but met with resistance. His arms were held tight to his sides, and his entire chassis felt constricted. One wing was contorted painfully as well, and the other-the one Predaking had nearly separated from his body-thrashed loosely in the air, causing him a seemingly-impossible amount of agony.
He attempted to gain his bearings. Tilting his neck back painfully, he saw Megatron's helm, inches from his own. His former leader held him roughly as they fell farther and farther from the shattered throne room.
Above, the indignant roars of the Predacons sounded off like sirens. The uninjured beasts must have been preoccupied with their leader's welfare, however-at least for the time being-as there was no sign of pursuit.
Author's Note: I'm still getting back into the groove of writing again, it's been so long! Hopefully I did alright with this chapter (battle scenes are such a pain to write). DX I hope you enjoyed it! :)
(Oh, and I would like to make a note about my decision to have Megatron use his fusion-cannon here. I realize it isn't really visible on his post-Unicron form, but (at least in my head-canon, lol) I like to think that it's still there to some capacity-perhaps in a more compact form, hidden beneath the bulky armor on his forearms.) XD