Bludgeon. That very name sent his spark surging with hatred.
After helping to save the very fabric of time and space itself, his fellow Decepticons had repaid his efforts by abandoning him and his allies on Earth. He had every right to do what was necessary to survive, including forming an alliance with what remained of the Wreckers to form their own group, independent from the War. And though he had never wronged any Decepticons, they came for him and Catilla anyway, murdering his best friend in cold fuel.
He'd avenged Catilla as best he could, but the primary culprit—Bludgeon—was still out there, now no less than Leader of the Decepticons. That arrogant warrior prattled on and on about honor, but he had none. He tightened his grip around the sword Bludgeon had thrown at him. The sword Catilla had taken himself to save his life. The sword that had ruptured his laser core, causing his spark to falter and collapse. The sword that would one day snuff out Bludgeon's own spark.
For now, though, he would have to settle for practice drones. After being whisked away back to Cybertron to destroy Unicron, he'd seen his chance. He'd risked it all to whatever dark hole Bludgeon had crawled from. There, he found the source of his power—the ancient teachings of Metallikato, the "forbidden" martial art. A few quick scans were all he needed to study the ancient scripts at his leisure.
Now he was back on Earth and he had made the alliances he needed to one day have his vengeance. No, not with the Autobots. They foolishly believed that the war was over. In their complacency they were allowing Bludgeon to amass his forces and reform the Decepticons. But the humans were wonderful in their paranoia. It was a gamble, but he had given them the information they needed to begun constructing their own space fleet and weapons to combat Cybertronians with. He was helping them learn to protect themselves. Somehow, he thought Catilla would have approved.
The drones were becoming too easy now. He was growing restless, ready for a real challenge. Unfortunately he was not yet ready to re-reveal himself to the galaxy just yet. He still wasn't up to Bludgeon's standard, and it would be some time yet before Earth consolidated their resources to make a stand against their enemies.
"Carnivac! That's enough," a human interrupted, deactivating the drones from the control center. "The U.S. government can't afford to keep you in sparring partners at this rate."
The warrior smirked as he sheathed his sword. He liked this human. Unlike most of them, he knew he had nothing to fear from the Decepticon helping them. Humanity was slowly becoming more than a means to an end to Carnivac. He was beginning to realize their own strengths as a species. "Forgive me, Colonel Fairborne. I got… carried away. What was my time?"
"45 seconds."
Three seconds less than yesterday. He was growing faster. Stronger. More alive. His smirk widened into a smile. "I'll help the cleanup crew today," he offered.
"Well that's… unusually generous of you."
"Catilla valued teamwork. If I'd learned from him in time, maybe he wouldn't be dead. The sooner we get your species into space, the sooner we can eliminate Bludgeon's army. If that means doing a little grunt work so your scientists can focus on developing your technology, I don't mind. Just remember our deal when the time comes."
"I know," Fairborne sighed. "Bludgeon is yours."
"Vengeance is mine, Colonel," Carnivac corrected him. "After all, it's the Decepticon way."
