Chapter Two: More Than Meets The Optic

Electra sped down the empty highway, her engine purring softly and the sun glinting off her soft orange paintjob. Though the Decepticon's gory and splattered vital liquid had smeared her entire body frame, she had managed to clean it off with the water-a strange liquid she had discovered when she had arrived on Earth-in a nearby pond before returning to the public roads. She had not wanted to emerge from the forested area covered in filth, thus possibly raising questions, and was certain that it wouldn't have been a good idea anyways. At the thought of the offlined mech, Electra smiled inwardly, her processor still buzzing from the fresh kill. Nothing else sent her into overdrive and got her energon pumping faster than hunting Decepticons. The mere thought of actually having the upper hand with dealing with the brutes gave the orange femme a sense of power, one she wasn't about to relinquish anytime soon. Swerving past the rare passerby and revving her engine loudly in protest, Electra slowed down a little and exited the road into a deserted exit. Making sure to stop at the red light, the orange femme waited until the car had passed by until she ran the red light, her tail lights blinking in impatience.

For a while, the femme drove on the similarly-empty stretch of pavement, her processor replaying her conversation with the Decepticon mech. "Megatron has always hated your kind, femme. He never liked neutrals such as yourself, for your cowardice and your unwillingness to join our cause. Yet he allows some of you to be spared. But today, he will regret his past actions. And when he learns of what you have done, he will hunt you down and personally tear out your spark, neutral or not. You hear me? Your appearance will matter little when you come face to face with the Supreme Commander of the entire Decepticon army." the words echoed in her mind. Electra only snorted in disgust, a small sense of disappointment flooding through her spark. A neutral, a cybertronian with no faction. For vorns, they had always stayed out of the Civil Wars that ravaged Cybertron, minding their selves, reluctant to get themselves dirty with spilt lubricant. Yet both factions found them useless, although the Autobots at the very least tried to respect their opinions in regards to the war. Still, the very fact that she was labeled a neutral made her want to curl up into a little ball and hide. It was true that as a cybertronian with no faction, she had no reason and no say in the war. But it hadn't always been that way.

With an internal growl, Electra skid to a stop and transformed. Tracing the scar that marred the palm of her hand, the orange femme winced, memories of her past life resurfacing as she bit her lower lip component. Her thoughts leapt to her early years on Cybertron, when she had still been an innocent sparkling, too young to understand what was happening. The orange femme sighed involuntarily, and slowly slipped to the ground, her optics brightening momentarily as an image of her parental mech and femme surfaced from her memory banks. Electra's spark pulsed with joy, and she smiled lightly. Her parents-one silver, one yellow-stood side by side, their wings grazing one another; in her servos, the silver femme held a tiny sparkling with an orange body frame. Both cybertronians had the purple Decepticon insignia emblazoned on their chest armour, and their crimson optics beamed up in pride. Decepticons. Both of Electra's parents had been Decepticons. Not just any Decepticons either, she thought bitterly: they had been Seekers, high up in the command chain, and warriors under the Decepticon Air Commander Starscream's leadership. How her parental units had been part of the faction that destroyed and slaughtered all without mercy was beyond the orange femme's belief.

Still, she had been young, small, naive; her parents' loyalties had not been something of importance to her, and she had foolishly thought it would never be. To Electra's sparkling processors, everything was simple and peaceful, or as peaceful as things could be in a war-ravaged Cybertron. But Fate would show her how erroneous her misconceptions were, and it would show her in the worst way possible.

~Flashback~

Electra sat happily outside, her optics focused on the datapad in front of her. Drawing was no easy task, but it wasn't the most necessary one, per se. Still, her mother had told her she was not to interrupt either parental unit until they ate, something that wouldn't happen for another breem or so. Using her small digits to form cybertronian glyphs, the orange femme sparkling continued to draw on the datapad until she got bored, and promptly threw it aside. That was when she had heard it: a scream-high and loud-that came from behind her. Confused, Electra turned around, and gasped as she saw a red-coloured young femme beg for her life from the arms of sneering mech; on his chest armour, the purple Decepticon insignia could be seen. Ignoring the femme's cries and pleas of mercy, the mech snapped her frame in two, and crushed her spark with his hand; the purplish energon exploded in a gruesome mess, staining his surroundings. Then, he dropped her remains on the ground, and turned to walk away. Electra let out a whimper, and backed away, her optics wide in terror.

Unfortunately, the mech had heard her, and he turned to face her, his crimson optics registering shock, then glee. He smirked sinisterly, and began to walk to her, his energon-covered hands twitching sadistically. Electra let loose a scream eerily similar to the offlined femme's, and she began to run, her entire frame shuddering violently. Something was terribly wrong, that much she knew. Already the sirens in the city were wailing and screeching, rasping against the small femme's audio receptors. Nothing like this had ever happened, in all her years on Cybertron. Still, she continued to run, and did not stop until she reached her home and was sure she had lost the mech. WIth her entire frame still trembling, Electra entered through the door-and immediately felt something was off. Her parental femme, usually careful and mindful of where she was, was nowhere in sight, and the house was strangely quiet. Still, Electra walked in, her own footsteps echoing everywhere in the room. "M-Mommy?" she stammered weakly, her voice sounding unusually high-pitched due to fear.

No one answered, which only served to heighten the small sparkling's fear even more. Suddenly, a cold laugh filled the place, one that sent Electra's protoform tingling and set her senses hyperactive. Her optics widened even more when she realized that another voice-her mother's-joined the twisted sycophany, though this voice was dominated by fear. "P-Please...M-My Lord, spare me...I have a young one, and she needs me..." Electra's mother begged, her voiced laced with deseperation. The first voice laughed again, followed by a choking sound. "Spare me you theatrics, Nightshade. You have betrayed the Decepticon cause, and you know I do not allow traitors to go unpunished. Your sparkmate may have started this, but for his actions, you will pay. And your 'young one' will be...taken care of. Of that I can assure you..." the voice said, sadistic glee tinging its tone. Nightshade screamed in agony, and Electra winced in pain. Her mother, her parental femme was being hurt, and she could do nothing about it.

Edging closer to the source of the two voices, the small femme crept quietly, her spark beating wildly within her spark chamber. Another shriek of pain pierced the air, and Electra clasped both audio receptors tightly, her orange frame shaking violently. This wasn't right...She was supposed to feel safe and protected within her own home, yet something or somebot was harming her mother, her creator, the femme that helped to bring her online. Without realizing it, a small cry of fear escaped Electra's lip components, which caused the screaming to stop. "E-El...E-Electra...? I-I-Is t-that y-you? S-Sweetspark?" Nightshade asked loud but shakily. The first voice chuckled cruelly. "So, you do have a youngling...The rumors were true, then. Was this another secret you and your pathetic sparkmate kept from me, hm?" it asked. When Nightshade didn't respond, the voice snorted derisevely. "Well, then...Perhaps it would be wise for me to know this youngling...They are, after all, the future of Cybertron. Little one, come here..." it added, directing the last words to the frightened sparkling.

Electra walked towards her parental units' personal recharge quarters, fear numbing her senses and her spark. The voice sounded cruel, twisted, cold...and deadly. All her sensors were telling her to resist, to refuse, but she didn't. Finally, after what seemed like vorns, she walked into her mother's recharge quarters through the half-opened door and whimpered. There, holding her parental femme by the neck in a vise-like hold, was none other than Megatron himself. The Decepticon smiled evilly and with a free hand, motioned for Electra to come closer. "Come to me, little one..." he said, his tone twisted in a strange mix of care and sarcasm. From the Decepticon Supreme Commander's other hand, Nightshade dangled uselessly, her crimson optics trained on Electra's shivering body frame. "My Lord...Please, I beg you...Spare her...I did you no harm. I have always served you with pride, with honour. Let the spark of my life live...I will do anything for you, anything, but please, please let her live, for she is but an innocent in this war." she pleaded. Megatron smirked once, and boldly looked over at Electra, who shivered even more. "Anything, Nightshade...? Alright...I shall spare the life of your pathetic sparkling...but you, my dear, will pay the price." he said, and without another word, the Decepticon mech crushed her neck, then took out his fusion cannon and shot directly at Nightshade's spark.

The small femme screamed in terror, her vocalizer reaching a maximum pitch, and shielded her optics, but was too late in avoiding the carnage. Her mother's frame shattered instantly, and energon exploded out of her sparse remains, splattering the walls and Electra. The Decepticon smirked again, and without another glance at the small sparkling, threw down the lifeless shell that had once been Electra's parental femme; so big was the force of the remains colliding against the ground that a flying piece of Nightshade's armour pierced right through Electra's palm, and energon began to seep out from the wound. Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he left, leaving the small, injured femme to stand in shock over her parental femme's lifeless, disfigured frame. The sounds of war began to echo throughout the room, but Electra paid them no mind, her optics still trained upon the smoking shell that had once been her mother. Soon, her screams of horror and anguish joined the others that formed a twisted and cruel symphony in the song of destruction.

~End of Flashback~

To Be Continued...

Well, this chapter took me a while but I did manage to tie it down. Like a hog. JK. No, for real now, this chapter did make me do some thinking. I considered many reasons as to why Electra so desired revenge on Megatron, but none of them were satisfiying. Then, this popped into my head, and I thought it couldn't have fit more flawlessly (see, I even placed it in as a flashback with the pretty, little italizied letters :P). So there you have it, folks. Electra wants to kill Megatron because he personally killed her mother and her father when she was small; in other words, she is pissed off, and she's out for Megs' blood, err, energon. Yet I bet there will be some of you out there who will ask (and don't lie) why Megatron himself would kill a seemingly unimportant Seeker femme and her sparkmate, right? Well, that's were I make some weirdly fantastic response and weave it in into the story, of course! So, if you wanna know why, then review! Please?

PS- I forgot to mention this, but I realized this is the longest chapter I have written so far (in my entire writing career)! Sorry for those who don't really like to read, but you better believe me when I say that the original draft for this chapter was much longer and more detailed. So, I guess you should be grateful? I don't know. But I thought you should know, so...there ya go.