Hey guys. Gotta say, I just realized something: I have named this series "Star Legacy" even as I have named one of my OCs Star. This is not a strict story about Star, even though she is one of the main characters.

Star Legacy

Chapter Two

Bloody Massacre

"No, no, no!" Massacre snapped. The tall, black shadow of himself cast towards his followers. Followers, not his friends. Or at least he had too much pride to admit to even himself that they were his friends, especially Ursa, for some odd reason. He just had to be meanest to her.

Before him, Ursa showed her wolvish fangs and growled. "We cleaned out the propellers. What more do you want?"

"I want you to clean out the energon vault!" Massacre hissed. He shuffled his skeleton-like black wings. Between the long, bony-like, black metal, a thin, transparent membrane gave him the ability of swift flight, but low in elevation. He'd have to transform if he wanted to fly at a high elevation.

Ursa gave him a disgusted look but didn't complain any further. Behind of him, Bloodsniffer gave a bitterly low chuckle. "Pretty harsh on her, huh?"

"She needs to toughen up," Massacre growled. "Stop questioning me."

"Oh, of course, Lord Megatron," Bloodsniffer retorted.

Massacre slowly turned to face the ruthless medic. "What...did...you...call...me? Megatron?"

Bloodsniffer wasn't afraid of Massacre like how the others were. He originated from the Decepticons and had been long time friends with Massacre, note the word "friends." They were more like brothers of hatred than friends. They always fought yet at the same time, they always stood up for each other. Tornglory, the youngest member, was found as a tiny welp on the edge of the galaxy and brother and sister Gathroh and Ursa were found fighting over a scrap morsal of energon- something Massacre soon claimed for himself, only to have a viral infection in his energon processor not two Earth days later. It turned out the energon was infected with rotted Cybertronian lubricants of the dead. Massacre hadn't took somebody else's findings ever since.

"Megatron," Bloodsniffer affirmed.

"Shut the scrap up and get back to that control panel!" Massacre snapped. Bloodsniffer just shrugged and returned back to his working area. Massacre went on to watch others, this time in a dangerous silence. He and the rest of his crew were in a grouchy mood. They were normally quiet and mean. But now, they were loud and ruthless to one another- ruthless on a higher level.

And out of complete boredom, he released an exaggerated yawn and went into his office and took out his map. "Time to seek energon," he grumbled uneducated. Truth was they didn't need any energon. In fact, he only said that to be saying. He was really bored. He began to examine the map, muttering about this and that. Then a small blue dot randomly caught his eye. "I don't remember this one, I don't think."

He began to observe it and then learned it was called Earth. "Earth?" Massacre asked to no one intentionally. "An organic planet...full of helpless beings..." A grin of pure evil spread across Massacre's face. He thought lusciously of how it'd be easy to conquer an organic race and and have them as slaves. They could mine the energon there and he'd slowly turn Earth into a planet like Cybertron. And he'd be the master of it all...

Of course, that plan was equivalent to a fairytale a fembot would tell her sparkling. He'd have to make it a reality. "That planet is mine," Massacre growled under his breath. "My slaves, my planet, my future."

"What's your slaves, your planet, and your future?" Bloodsniffer's voice made Massacre growl.

"What are you doing here?" he spat irritatedly. "Shouldn't you be at your station?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to see what you were doing up here," Bloodsniffer said in his smooth, mellowed voice that made Massacre hate that his voice was high pitched and slightly crackly. He had his throat was damaged in the wake of battle.

"Just shut up, you piece of scrap," Massacre snarled. "Come here. Look at this." Massacre jabbed his finger at the small spherical hologram in front of their faces.

"It looks like a gas planet," Bloodsniffer commented and Massacre followed his gaze to the orange-brown planet Jupiter.

"No, you fool!" he snapped. "This planet! Earth."

"Earth?" Bloodsniffer's optic ridges came together in a frown. "But it's dominate race is just a bunch of...parasites!"

"Agreed, Bloodsniffer," Massacre grinned, showing his long fangs. His bony wings shifted, making a slightly damp sound. "Those parasites, which is their dominate race, are organisms called humans. And they're going to be our slaves."

"What the frag do we need slaves for?" Bloodsniffer retorted.

"We don't need slaves," Massacre pointed out in a low growl that showed he had low patience. "I need slaves. And the rest of you piles of scrap are going to be my...deputies."

"If you're going to call me a pile of scrap, I don't think I want to be your deputy, which I already am," Bloodsniffer purred, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Get out."

Bloodsniffer growled. "As you wish, Slave-master. You're office has the most obnoxious scent to it anyhow." And the tall, mellow-voiced turned and padded away. Massacre watched him then shook his head. Everybody shuddered at least once at his searing leadership- everybody but Bloodsniffer, that is. Sometimes, Bloodsniffer- Massacre had to admit to at least himself- amazed him.

"But of course," Massacre grumbled darkly under his breath. "He spent most of his life around me. He's just feeding off from me...All of them do. The all relay on me practically! Where'd they be without me! They'd be helpless fools..."

Then somethinc caught Massacre's optic. Perhaps 30 or so miles away, coming at them at an average speed, was a small ship. It wasn't a war ship, but it was a ship none-the-less. And something told Massacre that the ship meant trouble, especially if it was coming straight towards them.