The atmosphere in Teletraan-I grew tense as its security systems beeped warnings for all the Autobots to hear that morning. Alarm lights flashed in the corridors where pede-steps clanked loudly in the confined space as Optimus Prime ran down along it, heading towards the Command Deck that it sounded as if there were two Gears's, Bumblebees, Trailbreakers, Hounds, Ironhides, Jazzes and Warpaths trailing behind the Autobot Commander instead of only one of each. The alarm was registered to be of highest priority, making it almost certain that it was triggered by Decepticon's presence. Murmurs rose as more fellow Autobots joined in – most of the Autobot soldiers were rather peaceful in nature, given that their original programming by the Quintessons to be consumer goods, but some were rather hot-headed. It was these few that were engaged in spirited chatters in mounting anticipation of the battles to come.
Optimus Prime couldn't help but to shake his helm mentally as he overheard the Lamborghini twins were engaged in discussions of how it was best to jet-judo the remaining Seekers of the Command Trine, now that they already held Starscream in custody. The truck-former had had enough confusion about the reasonable methods to treat their enemies should they came into their grasps. Starscream's presence had evoked debates on this topic, since they could not so widely offered similar generosity to the Decepticon – as Ratchet had blandly said, they were in a war, like it or not. Optimus could only hope that identical cases as complicated as these would come in few and far between.
Arriving at the Ark's Command Deck, Optimus saw that they were already preceded by Red Alert, Prowl and Inferno. He was not very surprised, since those three was the most responsive to emergency calls in the whole of the Ark. The trio were joined by Optimus's newly-arriving party and stood before the gigantic main screen, now depicting an Earthly map somewhere in the United States.
"s'it too much ta' hope that those 'Cons throwin' an open party this time?"
The majority of them snickered at Jazz's spontaneous comment; Prowl's optic ridge arched in quizzical disbelief that it almost vanished under the shadows of his chevron. Optimus Prime concealed his smile to himself, his cerulean optics betraying no mirth he was feeling – The Porsche always managed to insert randomness into almost any kind of situation.
"Prowl; status." Optimus's single-word command resonated through the room, his powerful voice overriding all other hindering noises.
The Datsun patroller cycled out a rush of air through his vocal passage a few times in quick succession – basically, a 'throat-clearing cough', as humans would have put it, and answered as professionally as possible, "The Decepticon, sir. They are on the way to a dam two hundred and sixteen miles North-West of the Ark."
True to his words, the image transmitted by Teletraan-1's SkySpy to the main screen had replaced the map displayed earlier. The live-feed video indicated that a host of Decepticon raiding party was indeed airborne, no doubt to rob said humans' dam of its energy. A silver point lead the larger-than-normal formation, followed by a section of moving lime-green blurs. At the front was no mistaking that it was Megatron, but the greenish mechs behind looked a bit familiar...?
"Teletraan-I, zoom in on the image. Seven-time magnification," Optimus ordered.
"Commence magnification," answered the supercomputer's monotonic voice. The image increased in size while its clarity sharpened with each stage of enlargement.
"You got to be kidding me," Bluestreak's voice was greeted with agreeing chatters as they saw clearly the identities of mechs making up the green portion of the party: Bonecrusher, Mixmaster, Scavenger, Scrapper, Hook and Long Haul.
"Those are the Constructicons!"
"Devastator! We're doomed!"
"What can we do? We have to find a way to beat that monster-Con!"
"Shoot! That dam's as good as gone!"
Optimus raised a servo high above his head; immediately, the Autobots quietened at the silencing gesture.
"Autobots, no matter what Megatron is throwing in our paths, our cause will remain the same; we have to stop those Decepticons. Have courage, all of you, because giving up means we will have lost half of the battle already."
Silence reigned in the Command Deck; of those who were complaining because of the formidable merger's presence in the upcoming fights, the shame of letting Optimus down overwhelmed their fears and fuelled their spirits to prove their worth again in the optics of their Commander – though in reality, Optimus Prime's judgement of his soldiers wavered not a notch. It was understandable that they felt intimidated by Devastator's devastating capabilities.
"As for the Constructicons...we will have to even the odds. Wheeljack?"
"Here, Prime," the inventor stepped out from the mass through a path cleared by his fellow Autobots.
"Call the Dinobots – We are in need of their superior might. Have Grimlock lead them in a separate team. They can be dispatched easier should Devastator comes into play."
Wheeljack nodded and ran off as fast as he could to fetch the Dino-formers off in their caves. Although Optimus Prime was admitted as their overall leader for they had pledged allegiance to the Autobots, the mecha-dinosaurs bent their wills easiest to either Wheeljack or Ratchet since they were their creators; Optimus's Matrix of Leadership granted them lives and sentience, but their existences they owed to the CMO and the inventor, since it was their ideas to build dinosaur-transforming robots in the first place.
"That should balance the scale, if not tipping it to our side entirely," the Matrix-bearer assured his troops upon Wheeljack's departure. To Jazz, he issued, "Assemble a counter-strike team. I will follow shortly."
The Special Operation Agent gave Optimus the affirmative and left the place. The rest of the Autobots poured out of the Command Deck as well for the choosing, leaving the Prime with Prowl and Red Alert. The two officers would not be accompanying their Commander on this mission – the Security Director rarely left the Ark to keep watch on the Autobot Headquarter. In Prowl's case, the high risk involved in the dam's defence made it impractical to have the two highest-ranking mech in the Autobot army at the same place.
"Megatron looks like losing his confidence now, isn't he?"
The truck-former heard his SIC said as he studied the general geographic features of the dam's surroundings while simultaneously downloading important details of their mission into his CPU. He understood the figurative meaning behind Prowl's comment; it was rare for Megatron to bring along Devastator for a simple raid. The fact that he did now because of Starscream's absence indirectly said just how much responsibility and trust the tyrant put in his SIC.
"Seven Decepticons in the place of one...I'm assuming that Megatron is not willing to risk more loss."
"I don't blame him, though; imagine us losing Prowl instead."
Prowl received Red Alert's compliment with indifference but his doorwings read his embarrassment and displayed it unconsciously with a subtle quivering. Optimus detected it, though he decided to keep quiet about it.
"It will be worse if we lose Optimus Prime – which brings us to the current situation," the Datsun police-car replied. When he said these, no trace of embarrassment was detectable in his voice.
"Don't worry; we will all be careful," Optimus said. The downloading had been finished and he left the Command Deck to join Jazz and his servo-picked team outside.
It was perhaps two joors away from mid-day, judging by the position of the sun in the sky when Optimus exited the Ark – his chronometer confirmed his educated guess. Jazz stood at the forefront of the defence party which consisted of Warpath, Wheeljack, Ironhide, Ratchet, Trailbreaker, Bluestreak, Bumblebee, Gears, Brawn, Smokescreen, the Lambo-twins and of course, the Dinobots. Grimlock, their unofficial leader, stood in his robotic form at the front of his fellows, right behind Wheeljack and Ratchet. Upon seeing the Autobot Commander arriving in their midst, Jazz nodded to him and declared, "We're ready, Prime."
Optimus gave an answering nod to his 3IC and tilted his helm in the direction of the Dino-formers, "Dinobots, transform and provide cover on our back."
At the same instant, all five Dinobots altered their forms to assume their dinosaurian mode; Grimlock became the infamous T-Rex; Sludge changed into the long-necked Sauropod; Slag, a formidable Triceratops; Snarl, a hardy Stegosaurus; and lastly, Swoop, transforming into a true flyer as a Pterosaur.
Optimus Prime issued the next order once the Dinobots have taken their formations and waited for the rest of the Autobots to make their move:
"Autobots, transform and roll out!"
Mechanical grinding sounds filled the area as the Transformers lived up to their names and adopted their terrestrial forms. Twelve land-based vehicles were parked exactly where the gigantic robots were barely two astroseconds ago. In the various collections of vehicles, a stunning blood-red truck stood out among them all, spitting thick smokes through the vertically-mounted twin exhaust piping at either side of it as the wheels began to roll forward. Porsche-Jazz fell into formation right behind Optimus, wheels screeching to gain traction on the dust-covered ground. Ironhide came next with Ratchet at his side; soon all Autobots were moving in their designated position, the Dinobots bringing up the rear. High above them, Pterosaur-turned Swoop circled the moving team in a wide arc that encompassed them all while keeping constant speed similar to the Autobots below to keep track of them.
In the midst of the roars of engine, the yell of Grimlock from far behind was still loud enough to reach Optimus at the forefront of the company:
"Grimlock want to smash Decepticons!"
xxxxx
The sound of the Autobots rolling away faded from Skyfire's audios as their distances from the Ark increased. By now, the shuttle was used to the scenario since he would usually volunteer out of active missions like this one. No, Skyfire was no coward – far from it, in fact. He had no fear in confronting the Decepticons, especially when he was granted with power parallel to his size. To him, lifting Megatron was a Sparkling's play as he had demonstrated back when he decided to leave the tyrant's faction – he even tossed him with effortlessness into the ice! Airborne fights? He feared engaging in air-to-air combats just as much as he did with dynametal ducks – which was none at all. It was a restricted knowledge that the shuttle, despite his tremendous size, was an accomplished dogfighter who could match a Seeker in manoeuvrability and a gladiator in his brute strength. No, the reason he avoided the hustles and bustles a war offered not because of physical limitations – rather, it was his personality.
Skyfire could care less about proving his battle prowess if the Autobots thought him weak, but he already did that anyway. Respects he gained from them partially came from his downright defiance to Megatron. Also, when he became the transporter for the Autobots to Cybertron when the planet was space-bridged into Earth's orbit, he had displayed every bit of warrior-like elements when he sneaked them passed the planet's defence networks during their way into and out of it. He was not proud of his achievements, though, no matter how outstanding it seemed – he was a scientist deep down, right to his Spark's core. He enjoyed science, not war; he loves exploring, not killing. Like Optimus Prime, he would not hesitate in battles, but being involved in them did not necessarily mean that he indulged in them.
Right now, Skyfire was alone in Wheeljack's workshop – which was actually a large area in the Ark filled with building tools. The lighting was switched to full power. The Autobot inventor had willingly let him use it while he worked to design and build Starscream his much-needed wings. A sketch-filled blueprint laid spread on the table, illuminated by a single lamp mounted low on the wall, just above the desk's surface. Electro-pens and digital-erasers were strewn across the shiny expanse of the desk. The shuttle had one of the former in his right servo, the tip resting delicately against his chin-guard. Optics scanned the sketch once again for faulty designs for perhaps the twelfth time – he could not exactly remember. Yes, he thought to himself, it is as it should be. Although he had reference images in designing the wing-sheets, Skyfire relied more on his data banks – Starscream's chassis was like a map he had memorized after watching over and over again. A seam here, a fold there, everything was envisioned almost perfectly in his processors.
Currently, Perceptor was monitoring Starscream's conditions in the med-bay. The Science Officer was kind enough to replace Ratchet while the medic went off with Optimus Prime on their defend-the-dam mission, understanding the need to have a medic on stand-by with such formidable enemies in store. Devastator was a force to be reckoned with, since he was by far the largest Cybertronian he had ever seen. When the alarms blared and Ratchet guessed readily what could be the cause, he had also sensed the need of his presence in whatever mission that lay ahead and hence, had asked Perceptor whether he was willing to keep an optic on Starscream until he returned. Skyfire processed that it would be necessary for him to give proper thanks to the microscope who had accepted the task without a fuss, since it seemed as if no Autobots would be willing to get within 20 Cybertronian metre-radiuses from Starscream, either out of doubts or hostile feelings towards the flyer.
Skyfire went on with his works even though his CPU was busy reflecting the hustles of this morning – as a scientist, he was trained to be used in multi-tasking, an advantage that sometimes allowed him to be lost in processors-drift when his current works were not very demanding. Once in a while he glanced at the huge storage cabinet in a far corner of the workshop where various minerals were contained, including the Cybertanium ore that he would need for the construction of the wings. They were running short on said substance, but a Seeker's wings could not be carelessly built and that includes their materials. There was little compromise in this; an Earth-aircraft's wings might substitute a Seeker's original ones when in emergency, but that was only it – for emergency. Then, the Seeker would have to find a true wing made of Cybertanium.
Once more, a great rush of air was expelled through his pectoral vents as Skyfire heaved a sigh; he had to wait for Wheeljack's return for his aids. The white flyer had some knowledge in building, but it was not his expertise. It was Wheeljack's. Like Ratchet with the wings' re-wiring who needed Skyfires's help, so too did Skyfire needed Wheeljack in this regard – not exactly necessary, but a lot better if he did. In the meanwhile, he could do something before the Autobot inventor came back to the Ark, which could be in another 4 joors at the very least, looking at the distance spanning the battle-site and the Ark and not counting the approximate time the wars would take.
Having made his decision, Skyfire went off to get a respectable-sized lump of Cybertanium ore from the cabinet – at least he could purify the ore of any impurity that might resided within before the real works could begin. He fetched a set of apparatus to do just that from the cabinet, set them up on the working table and began his works.
Meanwhile, in another section of the Ark, Perceptor was lost in his own world while examining an interesting specimen of an Earth's organic – a stick-like insect too small for his regular optics that he had to switch to his microscope alt-mode to view it. The med-bay where he was currently occupying was sparingly lit; the lamps were switched on only at his working area. Starscream's berth was not far off, but only the fringes of lights reached it. Parts of his armours glinted where they were illuminated, but most of the flyer's body was shrouded in shadows. Hence, it was of no surprise that the microscope did not realize the slight twitch Starscream's lip-components made, nor did he noticed the subtle quivers of Starscream's digits. They were the only indications that the Seeker displayed from his silent struggles.
The med-bay was silent...for now.
xxxxx
The Autobot convoy was travelling at a decidedly unsatisfying speed, though it was the fastest that they could manage. Jazz, for example, could hit nearly 200 miles per hour if he wanted to, a sport car as he was, but he was driving in a group consisting of a large truck, a van, an ambulance and a tank, to name a few. Not all of them could manage speeds like his, so Jazz contented himself at an average of 60 miles per hour. At the tail of the group, Grimlock the Tyrannosaurus Rex managed to keep up despite his bulky size, half-waddling half-running at a surprising speed with his dinosaurian fellows close behind. They could have engaged anti-graves if they wanted to, but it would drain them the energy they needed to fight off Devastator. Swoop spiralled some a hundred metres above them, metal wings outstretched to catch the warm air, utilizing fully the thermals created by the sun-heated Earth surfaces to soar like a colourful eagle. Optimus Prime followed the Pterosaur's guidance as he drove on, relying on his long-ranged optics to detect possible ambushes.
::Swoop see no Decepticons;:: the flying dino-former informed the Autobot Commander through the comm. link periodically.
::Good job, but continue keep an optic out for them,:: the truck acknowledged. In the confines of his own processors, though, he silently thought, Not an assurance that the Decepticons are not nearby. He had learned from many past events how sneaky they could be.
Not a klik passed since Optimus thought this when an angry shriek sounded from above. Optimus's scanner changed direction and swept the sky for the source of Swoop's vocalization. He detected the Pterosaur immediately but his flight had suddenly become erratic as if disturbed by turbulent wind. Other Dinobots echoed his rage with roars of their own, the sounds so loud that they vibrated the Earth.
::Flying Decepticons attacked Swoop!:: The mecha-dinosaur snarled his report through the comm. link – his anger at being overtaken in his own element was fanned greatly that he lost control of his manners when communicating with the Prime.
Optimus's CPU processed the feedbacks lightning-fast; the attackers must be Seekers since only they were fast enough in flight to strike and flee in such short astroseconds that his scanner missed their presences.
::Can you identify them?::
::Swoop not know, but Swoop saw purple and blue jets.::
Thundercracker and Skywarp, the Matrix-bearer concluded. Though there were Coneheads with similar colour scheme, only the Seekers of the Command Trine possessed sufficient skills to harass an airborne target with precision such as shown.
"Prahm, look out!"
Optimus Prime saw them even as Ironhide issued his warning; two F-15s, one was painted with white-blue paintworks and the other black-purple, dove at an angle in front of the truck. Two missiles detached from each jet's wings and the jets shot up, nosecones almost vertical as they gained altitude. The Autobot leader swerved sharply to his left. One of the missiles missed him by a mere metre. The others exploded in the midst of the Autobot convoy, splitting the formation.
Swoop abandoned his leisurely soaring and ignited his afterburners to their fullest and rocketed skywards almost instantaneously in pursuit of the F-15s.
::Swoop, can you handle the Seekers on your own?:: Normally, he would have left the Seekers for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to confront, but they had lost the element of surprise that their jet-judo technique required to work. In their current situation, Swoop had the best chance among the Autobots to overpower the jets.
::Swoop strong. Swoop can defeat Seekers alone.:: He answered whilst continuing to ascend the sky with speed matching to that of the Seekers'. He was out of optic range in just two astroseconds.
"Autobots, accelerate!" Optimus shouted over the vanishing roars of Swoop's thrusters. The Autobots regrouped and picked up speed immediately. Optimus Prime's navigation system pinpointed the location of the dam to be five miles away. Already the sounds of rushing water echoed in his audios, informing him that they were nearing the river with the targeted dam. Over the horizon, he could see smokes billowing up from behind .
The red truck fasten his pace even more; if there were smokes, there were likely to be Decepticons there too. Since Optimus received no emergency call from the humans, he guessed that their communication was down too which meant they were pretty much on their own right now. The priority for the Autobots to reach them suddenly escalated sky-high.
The dam came into view, and with it, the Decepticons. Soundwave and his cassette-minions were at the entrance, gun at the ready to shoot any adversaries within range. Optimus did not detect Rumble, though, and figured that the humanoid cassette was somewhere underwater since the river churned madly that it did not seem natural; it was Megatron's way to hype things up and forced rivers to create tsunami-like waves when raiding dams such as this so that the energy output would be maximum. What happened to the dams was not his concern, and sometimes they crumbled under the tremendous forces of the waters hitting its walls. It was such disaster that the Autobots hoped to prevent from happening this time because burst dams meant not only property damage – other humans living downriver would be swept by the overflow and has a chance of next to nothing to survive.
"Autobots, transform and attack! Dinobots, provide cover, but engage Devastator immediately if he comes!" Optimus issued. The next instant, twelve robots emerged from the unfolding metals of the vehicles. Guns were extracted from their sub-spaces and the Autobots open fires immediately. Grounds exploded where the lasers hit, sending chunks of rocks flying around like mere dust. The Dinobots remained untransformed since they were at their optimum battle conditions in such forms and joined in the struggles. Yellow lasers and flame-tongues issued from them, effectively ruining the Coneheads' formation which happened to fly overhead.
Off to the other side, Soundwave lifted the arm-long gun held all this while in his servos and took aim. The silver weapon shone under the sunlight – and Optimus realized the possible destruction it carried within the barrels.
"Duck!" He warned just in time before purple laser streak streamed out of the gun-mouth. Thankfully, it did not hit any of his soldiers who avoided it upon their leader's shout, but the resulting explosion tossed the few nearby like a mere metal sheets.
More laser streaks were fired at them but they were more prepared this time. Their advance was slow but sure, sprinting towards Soundwave and ducking for cover occasionally when the gun was directed towards them. At his side, Frenzy shot with randomness, having no time to properly aim and hope that he would hit the Autobots with luck. Ravage bounded around Soundwave while unleashing his flank-missiles with more accuracy than Frenzy did, taking down Gears and Smokescreen with his weapons. Laserbeak swooped amidst the chaos to let loose distractive laser shots but was quickly thwarted by Bluestreak's missiles – the Datsun gunner might be young, but he was Pit of a sniper, able to take down a flying object with ease.
Optimus Prime was the first to get within shooting range and fired a blast as Soundwave's servos. He hit his aim and the Decepticon staggered backwards. The silver gun fell – or rather, leapt out – of his servo just before it was ruined by Optimus's laser-fire. At this distance, the Autobot Commander could clearly see the gun's design to be Walther P38, and, with a little zooming in, the Decepticon brand at the side.
The silver gun's form unfolded with mechanical creaks – arms appeared and the handle separated in the middle to become a pair of legs. The barrel shifted position. A black Fusion Cannon was attached to the right lower arm-section. A helmeted head appeared from the gaps in the metals, a head adorned with piercing red optics and tightly-clamped mouth. Sharp lines running down the side of the angular faceplates were the final defining touch of the mech transforming from the gun. It was undeniably, inarguably Megatron, the Commander of Decepticon himself.
The Fusion Cannon's barrel erupted out a thick laser beam; it missed Optimus Prime by a few Cybertronian inches, who rolled sideways to avoid utter destruction by the Cannon.
"Like my welcoming 'gift', Prime?" the silver gun-former bellowed from his standing point; his Fusion Cannon was never lowered and he loosened more Fusion blasts from his primary weapon.
Optimus Prime was used with their pre-battle banters by now – he had fought Megatron for nine million stellar cycles, give or take a few vorns. His ego did not waver at all all these while and his boasting had become a must every time they clashed. Well, he had his answer too to give.
"You have to do better than that, Megatron!"
The usual taunts, the usual replies, all were ingrained in both leaders' systems. Optimus was half-crawling half-running as he dodged every fire put in his way, unleashing his own laser beams in the process. Megatron and Optimus Prime were engaged in their deadly battles by now, personal and uninterruptable. At this stage, their factions were on their own – Optimus Prime could not afford to spare his attention elsewhere when faced with his greatest, most ruthless nemesis, and neither could Megatron. They were almost matching in their battle prowess that stalemate was sometimes unavoidable – and stalemate was a result neither of them desired.
Laser shots were traded relentlessly between the Supreme Commanders, orange and purple streaks clashing with each other with neither hitting the source of the other. Optimus remained unscathed throughout the time, and so did Megatron. The Autobot leader vented out a regretful sigh; no matter how developed their technologies were, it always came down to brute strength with Megatron. Gladiatorial battles were the medium in which the winner would be decided.
Optimus Prime made a run for it – a lucky blast singed the side of his armours, but it was negligible. Megatron stepped backwards as their distance shortened, but it was too late. The truck-former lounged with all the force he could muster and grabbed the silver mech's shoulder-plates as he fell back, bringing Megatron along. At such close range the huge Fusion Cannon was more of a hindrance rather than a bonus so Megatron abandoned attempts to fire at the Prime and resorted to brawn instead. Optimus caught Megatron's balled servo before it could smash his faceplates – masked or not, the Prime rather have the fist far from his head. In return, he shot his fist into Megatron's mid-riff, crushing the grilles and forcing out a roar from the tyrant's vocalizer.
Optimus's turn for pain came not long afterwards – he groaned as the silver pede kicked at the knee-joints, right where his thigh met his lower leg-section. Optimus grabbed at Megatron's flank with one servo in response to keep the silver mech firmly pinned beneath him, and reached for the helm with the other. Megatron's growl was muffled as his head was spun halfway around and pushed into the ground. He bucked vigorously under the Prime and the sheer strength of it unsaddled Optimus from Megatron's back, throwing him a few Cybertronian feet away.
Optimus Prime did not succumb to the shock of being thrown off; instead, he pushed himself to his pedes as fast as he could. When he stood, he saw that his Decepticon foe was already up, legs spread slightly in battle-stance. An energy Morningstar had been transformed from his left servo, flailing wildly with the movements of his arm. The Decepticon Commander was ready for a true gladiatorial fight now. In answer, Optimus Prime lowered his body in preparation for attacks, his right servo converted to an orange-glowing energy battleaxe. They locked optics for an astrosecond before charging forward, arms raised to inflict the worst damages to the other.
The battleaxe and Morningstar met with a loud clang as if they were made of metals, a proof of their solidity. Sparks erupted from the point of contact, accompanied by the familiar sizzles as the weapons grinded against one another when their owners retreated for another attack. Optimus Prime and Megatron danced and whirled around as the battles continued with increasing fury, weapons biting into each other with louder clangs and brighter sparks, separating with sharper sizzles. They charged again, and again and again, neither gaining the upper servo even as their chasses were drained of energy from the taxing battles.
Suddenly, a loud roar sounded from somewhere to Optimus's left – the momentary distraction caused him to be hit square in the chest-piece by the Morningstar. He stumbled backwards a few steps and fell on his knees - the windshields mounted on his front were cracked from the force, but they were salvageable. He managed a sideway-glance and caught sight of a gigantic lime-purple mech marching among the smaller forms of the Autobots: Devastator. Praying that the Dinobots were somewhere nearby, Optimus Prime reverted his attention back to the immediate threat in the form of silver mech with a purple energy Morningstar before him, ready to deliver the final blows.
He avoided the Morningstar with a roll to the side – the weapon struck the ground just beside him cleanly. Optimus kicked hard at the knee-joints, causing Megatron to buckle and fell onto his knees with a desperate groan.
"You've lost your touch, Megatron!" Optimus bellowed while giving him another kick, this time right to his red-plated flank with enough force to dent the metals. Megatron's groan lengthened with the added pain. "Looks like you are nothing without Starscream to boost your megalomania!"
Megatron's roar was surprising even to Optimus, who was by this time had come to be familiar with his enemy's reaction – he might have interpreted it wrong, but the voice that escaped from the tyrant's vocalizer hinted not just the usual irritation at the taunts. No, Megatron had sounded as if he was...pained by the random comment.
"Slag you, Prime!" The Decepticon Commander bellowed. This time, anger was clearly etched in his tone, but the sound of his inner suffering, if suffering he was truly experiencing, did not leave his voice. With an expert flick of his wrist he fended off Optimus's assault and swung the arm away. "Slag you!"
"Surrender, Megatron!" Optimus demanded while planting a fist into Megatron's spinal strut with his empty servo even as his axe-arm swung away from the target, using the remaining momentum from his previous charge to fuel this minor attack.
The warlord groaned again but his chassis responded as if feeling no pain. The silver frame rose, yanking the Morningstar out of the Earth with a powerful pull. It swung in a high arc and would have struck Optimus's helm had he did not bend just in time.
"Never!" Megatron roared angrily. It was an answer Optimus had come to expect to a question Megatron had come to anticipate.
In the midst of their blow-trading, the lights at either side of Megatron's chest-piece flickered rapidly. Megatron's grim smile grew as they did like he was hearing to some silent voice whispering words that were pleasing into his audios, a voice that Optimus Prime could not hear himself.
"Until next time, Prime," he growled with wicked amusement and delivered a heavy blow with his fist right under Optimus's chin, an unexpected move since he had a more effective weapon with him. Distracted by the shock and pain, the silver gun-former took the opportunity to ram the Prime bodily and threw him aside.
When Optimus regained his footing, Megatron had already taken to the sky at high speed, his usual order of "Decepticons, retreat!" audible clearly amidst the maniacal laughter trailing in his wake. For an astrosecond, Optimus Prime wondered what could be the source of his amusement until he focused his vision in the dam's direction; Laserbeak, Rumble, Frenzy, Reflector-gestalts, several jet-mode Coneheads and Soundwave were airborne and were speeding away, undoubtedly with their sub-spaces full with energon cubes.
The Decepticon's attacks were successful.
"This is not over yet, Megatron!" Optimus shouted to the enemy-leader's retreating form – no matter how composed Optimus Prime was, his foe's success at destruction angered him, not because it meant defeat to the Autobots. Rather, it was because more often than not, it spelled disaster to innocent lives that happened to be in Megatron's path.
Faintly, he could hear the Dinobots' pained roars; turning around, the Matrix-bearer saw that Devastator, badly damaged himself, was unleashing a final blast right in the middle of the attacking mecha-dinosaurs with his laser gun. Scattered, it provided the Constructicon-formed mech to flee in Megatron's wake, obviously aware at his leader's sound of retreat. His anti-graves kicked to full functionality to lift the merger's massive mass off the Earth, blowing huge clouds of dust in all directions as he did. Despite his immensity, Devastator's flight was stable and his speed just as amazing, slower than the lighter jet-formers for sure, but still not very much slower than Megatron's or any average-sized mech's.
"Optimus, the dam!"
Jazz's shout altered the Prime's attention to said building – and to his horror, the wall were cracked so badly to the point it was ready to crumble in any nanoklik now. Fountains of water shot out from faults in the dam's structure, further weakening it. The Prime's disappointment at Megatron's escape vanished instantly to be replaced by fear; there were human settlements downriver. If the dam's collected water was unleashed, the humans there would drown.
"Trailbreaker, ready your force-field in case the dam fails! Ratchet, Wheeljack, repair the walls! Gears, Bumblebee, evacuate the dam immediately! Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, head downriver and help the humans if the water burst out! The rest of you, STAY AWAY!"
Upon receiving their instructions, the Autobots moved to their places at once; the mechs who were not designated any task did as was told also, keeping clear away from the dam – water did not bother them much like it did Earth-machineries, but water at this scale was destructive in so many ways, they could be very well permanently deactivated because of it; To a degree, their circuits were impervious to water, but with enough force it could still penetrate the protective layer. They were also helpless under the immense rush of water coming out from the dam if the walls broke, and besides, there was no telling if they would survive being tumbled in the water-cyclones, or that they were not thrown into rocks and the likes. Ratchet, with Jazz's help, was lowered down by the Porsche's grappling hook to reach the damages at the upper half of the dam walls. Wheeljack, with his limited flight capability, managed the lower cracks and holes where Ratchet could not reach. Trailbreaker was prepared at the side of the river to deploy his force field which would buy Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak extra time to evacuate the resident humans should the water overcame the dam's restraints.
Thankfully, the dam resisted long enough for the repairs to commence. At the end, with the combined efforts of the Autobots, the dam walls and its surrounding structures were as good as new and fully functional. There was zero loss of lives either at the dam or at the human settlements, as Bumblebee, Gears, Bluestreak and the Lamborghinis had reported. Swoop returned not long after, saying that he had held the two Seeker-jets at bay as long as he could and letting them leave only when he realized that the rest of the Decepticons did so too. For that, it was reason enough for the Prime's intakes to vent out in relief.
This isn't a victory...but at least we don't have to mourn, either, Optimus Prime thought in silence. Out loud, he said, "Autobots, we are done here. Dinobots, I thank you for the support you've shown. We would have lost to the Devastator before we can even fight if it's not for you."
"Grimlock happy to fight Decepticons! Dinobots happy to fight with Prime!" the metal T-Rex responded with glee, obviously still hyped up from their encounters with Devastator. Unlike the other Autobots should they engage Devastator on their own, the Dinobots were merely scratched and dirtied from their fights, sustaining only minimal injuries that their self-repair systems could handle without Ratchet's helps. Swoop, fighting two Seekers at once, was completely unmarred from the clash. They were hardy lots; there was no argument to that.
"Let's head back to base, then. Transform and roll out!"
Optimus was the last to transform, waiting for his soldiers to complete their sequences before commencing alteration of his own. Once he was a truck, he drove off with the Autobots gradually falling into their respective places as they moved. The Dinobots were at the rear, though their cover was no longer needed – they simply preferred their places there.
The tumults of the Autobots' engines faded from the dam's area as the robot-vehicles left the place. The day had been a long one, with them leaving at morning but were held in battles and the consequent dam-repairing for at least another 5 joors. The battle was over, and the Ark was waiting for their return. Behind, the sun began to set in the Western horizon, promising a night to come and a tomorrow to follow after.
In the med-bay of the Ark, Perceptor startled as he heard the rustles of moving metals; he whirled around almost impossibly past, a sign of his incredible focus despite the normally dreamy expression he wore on his faceplates. He thought that he had heard them coming from Starscream's direction...but it was impossible. The Seeker was in forced recharge, there was no doubt of that, the universal override codes had ensured that he stayed so. Maybe it was a straying rat scurrying around in the ceiling...? The Earth organic-vermin was known to have infiltrated the Ark in the past; such was perhaps the case this time.
Contenting himself that nothing was amiss, Perceptor returned back to his complex calculations he was doing before he was interrupted. His optics was re-locked on the collection of Cybertronian numerals covering the datapad he had been holding for the past joor. In doing so, though, the microscope-former missed the sudden spikes in Starscream's readouts on his CPU activity displayed on the screen of the monitoring machine placed at the berth-side table. Starscream was, as expected, still in forced recharge...but not for long.
The universal override codes wavered under Starscream's assaults to counter it – and Perceptor had no idea whatsoever of this hidden battle.
XxXxXx
Sunset on Earth was a beautiful thing to behold, a strikingly similar vista which had once graced the dusks of Cybertron. Gold was dominant in the evening heaven, but here and there soft purples added hues to the darkening sky – where the two colours met, an even softer shade of pink emerged to create an almost peaceful mood...had there were no streaks of points tearing the sky with both their inharmonious colourations and the sounds they generated.
If anybody nearby had noticed the disruptions in the balanced hues of the dusk-sky, and had at his disposal the power of telescopic magnification, the points would actually appear to him as huge robotic figures, moving in perfect tandem with one another to keep their triangular formations, cruising the air with means yet to be achieved by Earthly technologies. Exhaust-borne flames were nowhere to be seen as proof of regular engine propulsion save from the few colourful jets present within the groups – noticeable among them were two F-15s, elaborately painted, each separate parts displaying bits of purple, blue, white and black. They flew nosecone-to-nosecone with each other near the leading point of the flying triangle, emphasizing their high rank. In addition to this, a group of mechs with similar-looking specs and colour schemes of lime and purple, six in total, flew at the rear of the crew, their structures marking them as gestalts of a larger merger. Few knew their personal designations, but the purple brands they each wore on various parts of their armours were known and feared by all Earth populations.
Decepticon's ruthlessness did not go unnoticed after the many attempts of the mechanoid army to annihilate the planet they were currently residing upon themselves.
Even the most backwater humans would have recognized the silver mech leading the crew. With his infamous Fusion Cannon attached almost permanently to his arm, Megatron struck as an imposing figure even without his main weapon – with it, he appeared to be the personalization of destruction himself. While silver gleams of his armours might attract attentions, the blood-red optics peeking out from under the gladiator-styled helmet were certainly NOT inviting. Further keeping others away from him was the huge gun-barrel that rose from behind his back, a metallic tower that silently threatened Megatron's enemies from drawing any nearer.
However, the passing of this unusual crew remained unobserved since it had taken place in the middle of Atlantic Ocean. No human-made watercrafts dared to pass here for the Earthlings were well aware of the presence of the Decepticon's space cruiser beneath its rolling waves. Only foolhardy sailors would brave these dangerous waters at the risks of being mere playthings of the Decepticons – a fate that would be even worse than simple death. The Decepticon party circled the area twice as they waited for the raising of one of Nemesis's tower. It did so in just a few astroseconds, breaking the surface of water and the rhythmic ripples of the natural waves with disturbances of its own. The landing dock was open and ready to receive Megatron and his soldiers, who flew inside through the narrow opening without collision, a mark of their flying ace. The Constructicons entered last – they had paused just before traversing the seas to reach Nemesis to split off into their separate components. In their merged form as Devastator, the sheer size of them combined altogether made it impossible to fit through the entrance.
Megatron rode the turbolift to the lower deck along with Soundwave and the Seekers. The space was admittedly crowded but Megatron's processors were far too busy processing thoughts to complain, or perhaps even notice, the discomfort the lack of room sprouted. Though he was unaware of it, he had the same opinions regarding the battle today; it was a victory in some sense, but it was neither something to be celebrated upon, either. Optimus Prime was still functioning, his rag-tag band of civilian-turned soldiers was still up and running...and Cybertron was still a dead planet. He was not present when the loading of energon cubes happened, but Laserbeak had reported that little was lost and many were salvaged before the Autobots could destroy their efforts. He had to wait for Soundwave's reports for the deeper details.
Only when they were out of the lift did Megatron realized that the Seekers were unusually quiet – usually, when the members of his Command Trine were put together in one place, they would bicker and bicker until he thought his CPU would crash out of annoyance. Megatron did not blame them from acting out of normality, though – in recruiting the Seekers into his army, he had also inescapably learned something of them, such as how the trineleader being the core of this military-based tie. Starscream's absence was analogous to Megatron losing his Fusion Cannon; the Seekers' performance in dogfights today was proof enough of that. Unable to take Swoop even though the he was alone against Thundrecracker and Skywarp, usually the Pterosaur would at least get scratched or clipped wings if Starscream led his trine into battles.
"Soundwave, prepare reports on today's battles. I have business with Cybertron that needs attending to," Megatron commanded his deputy-SIC – a command that have been voiced out so many times it was almost unnecessary, spoken out only because it was a routine he could not easily leave.
Soundwave's as you command, Lord Megatron could have as well be meaningless babbles to the Decepticon overlord with processors-drift already creeping into his CPU. It seemed that it did unhealthily often these past orns...ever since Starscream was lost to him.
Indeed, when his data banks were rummaged, Megatron recalled the considerable burden that had been lifted off his shoulder-plates upon accepting the colourful Seeker into his ranks, and not long after, as his Second-In-Command. His proficiency surprised even the Decepticon Leader, who watched in awed silence how the Seekers under Starscream's command levelled the city of Praxus in a matter of joors as the first test to be promoted as the Air Commander. Not a survivor found which was not destroyed – of those who managed to flee, they hunted down to the best of their abilities, which proved rather astounding. Mechs and femmes screamed as their Sparks were extinguished, Sparklings wailed for the loss of their Creators, and buildings were reduced to insignificant ashes in blistering heat of explosions. Very deep down in his Spark, what small amount of remorse in store was summoned by Megatron at the city's destruction, but it was a destruction by necessity; Praxus was no longer salvageable with its residents offering unwavering supports to the Autobot's cause. Megatron's coldly practical reasoning as a gladiator had caused him to act with mercilessness that none could really understand – such as his perception that to restore Cybertron to its former glory, the most effective way to do so was through utter domination and complete annihilation of those who opposed his notions. Peace was kept through tyranny, and not fickle democracy; He could not understand why he needed to hear the distractive opinions of others when his alone would be sufficient to run Cybertron.
Megatron was unaware when he had reached his destination until the sliding door of the Command Centre hissed open to allow his passage, as besotted as he was with his private thoughts. No mech was in there – a source for Megatron's irritation; somebody had left their shift early, it seemed, programming the rise of the landing tower at the time when Megatron's raiding party was expected to return. That, or maybe whoever that was responsible just make a dash for it when he detected Megatron's summon and went back to whatever he was doing after activating the tower. Whichever one, both options were still wrong. Megatron made a mental note to himself to have Soundwave checked the identity of the mech in question later and have him punished most severely for his lack of dedication. At that thought, Megatron's grin unconsciously appeared on his mouth components – unpredictable though he might be, the one thing all Cybertronians and Earthlings should have been aware of was his masochistic tendencies. Causing pain was what he was fond of – after all, the title of 'Tyrant of the Universe' was not haphazardly given to him. Agonized screams of his victims were music to his audios, a twisted source for enjoyment. Furthermore, with more and more unrestrained his anger had became since he lost his Starscream, the more he needed 'entertainment' to balance it out.
The main console was empty of mechs as he had noticed earlier, and the huge monitor mounted on the wall behind it was in dormancy. Megatron walked towards it and pushed the activation button upon the console. The monitor flickered with statics, but nothing else. His segmented digits danced on the vast keyboards with precision borne from millennia of repeating the same movements, pressing here and there without a nanoklik's hesitation. For all he looked right now, a human could have called him computer geek from the speed in which he typed his orders to be prosecuted to Nemesis's computer systems – that was, if any human was present and was stupid enough to call him that in the face of sure, painful death. Statics continued to crack on the monitor, but Megatron knew that he had achieved what he had intended.
Pressing yet another button, he held it down and his powerful voice boomed:
"Shockwave, acknowledge!"
The monitor resumed flickering for a few more astroseconds – a short period of time but enough to have impatience gnawing in Megatron's circuits – before a particular view began to focus into clarity. The gloomy interior of a Cybertronian building materialized among the streaks of statics lancing the screen – the interior of Dark Mount fortress, the Decepticon's stronghold on Cybertron. More important than that, though, was the figure that stood in front of the screen at the other side of the line, filling almost the whole view.
"Hail, Lord Megatron."
It was Shockwave, the Decepticon's Military Operations Commander, guardian of Cybertron and Megatron's most trusted lieutenant.
In appearance, Shockwave probably has the most intriguing physiques of all Cybertronians that have ever been assembled. True, he had a pair of stabilizing servo – pedes, as were normally called of them, two arms and a head, all of which made him roughly humanoid in shape, but that were all. His left arm, where most mechs would have their own ended with fingered servos, Shockwave had instead a laser cannon there. Antennas adorned each side of his head which was shaped roughly like diamond and was rather featureless save for a single yellow bulb that glowed each time he spoke. He had absolutely no lip components and no nasal structures – even if he did have them, they were hopelessly invisible. A reactor located at his chest-piece gave him a slight illusion of having a muscular torso; within it was housed radioactive fuel source to counter his fuel inefficiency in return of commanding the totality of electromagnetic spectrums, a destructive advantage in wars. His colour scheme was of limited shades of purple, fitting for a Decepticon officer. Shockwave was the few Decepticons of whom Megatron put his confidence in for the mech's loyalty to his leader was an enigma – that, and the fact he was likely the most logic-based Cybertronian Megatron had and would ever encounter, including Megatron himself, making him brutally efficient for his position.
Usually, Megatron would have been flattered by Shockwave's call of Lord prior to his name, knowing that his logic made the uttering of the title sincere. This time, however, he felt absolutely nothing. His massive ego remained deflated; his pleasure elusive. Schooling stoicism upon his faceplates, he bluntly replied:
"Shockwave, is the Space Bridge ready for opening?"
Space Bridge. A technology that was solely Decepticon's, an advantage Megatron had over his enemies. It enabled him to transport energon cubes for the revitalizing of Cybertron in just a few astroseconds and with lower percentages of failure compared to manual delivery via space shuttles. At times of great desperation, Megatron had even used it to recruit his remaining soldiers on Cybertron to swell his dwindling Earth forces, but such things were very rarely done, looking at the fact that the army on the Cybertronians' native planet was not very numerous either. Cybertron still needed defending from the few Autobot guerrillas that still terrorized the planet's surface, waiting just for the right moments to strike back. So far, Shockwave and what Decepticon soldiers still guarding the planet managed to hold back the offenders, but if Megatron kept demanding for reinforcements, the table would be likely to turn. The Decepticon Supreme Commander was aware of the fact and the delicate situation it presented – he had to be careful in juggling the fire.
For all the conveniences a Space Bridge offered, it still had its drawbacks. It drained a massive amount of energy in setting it up, and since Earth had no specialized site to receive the other end from Cybertron, the location kept changing every time Shockwave initiated its passage. In turn, Megatron and the Decepticons on Earth had to keep track where the Space Bridge would open and constructed a crude structure to contain the dimensional opening from tearing the space-time fabric further than intended prior to its initiation from Cybertron. This information was supplied by Shockwave – and it was such information Megatron now needed to know if the energon cubes were to be sent to his home planet.
"Ready and waiting for your command, Lord Megatron. The energy store at Cybertron is still enough to fuel one more opening of the Space Bridge."
Shockwave's manner of speaking, though he had never set a pede on Earth, hinted that of British accent; it was deep yet smooth, each uttered word was clear to its very syllable. Shockwave's voice by itself was rather gentleman-sounding which was purely accidental – he was Sparked with his vocalizer readily tuned to that frequency and had no intention of modifying it. At the very least, it served as verbal masks, luring his unsuspecting victims into carelessness by the calming power his voice carried before Shockwave was ready to strike. Indeed, at times before he was promoted as the Military Operations Commander, he was Megatron's favourite spy whose bidding he never failed to carry out. In some sense, humans would have viewed him as the mechanical version of the fictional James Bond character – minus the shaken martini, the beautiful ladies and his preferences to succumb to lust every time the latter were in sight.
"Excellent, Shockwave. When and where the Space Bridge is expected to appear?" One more opening of the Space Bridge, Megatron pondered to himself. Which meant that he had only one shot to successfully transport the energon cubes. If the Autobots happen to know about this – which they seemed to never fail to not know – and manage to thwart his efforts...then he would be forced to send someone quite disposable to send those hard-earned energon cubes by a space shuttle. It would be a lengthier, riskier and more difficult process. He certainly did not want to use the latter option.
"In fifty-eight thousand astroseconds at these coordinates..."
The screen flickered once more; the image of Shockwave blurred and was instantly replaced by scenery that was closer to Megatron – one that came from Earth. It was a view of a lush green forest broken here and there by stony outcroppings. At the centre was a clearing just large enough to fit a simple Space Bridge Ring, as the structure which contained it was named. The ground was mostly rocky but at some parts was finely sprinkled by grainy sand.
The screen flickered again and Shockwave rematerialized upon the screen. Megatron nodded as an acknowledgement that he received and understood the information conveyed and spoke:
"I will be ready there to receive the Space Bridge. Soundwave will have details for the delivery sent to you later. Megatron out. "
The silver mech usually wait for yet flattering words from Shockwave as the closure to their conversations, but he did not even bother with them this time. He pressed on another key and the monitor crackled for a brief while; the image of Shockwave fuzzed out, then blackened completely when the monitor went offline. Although appearing as strong as ever in battles today, he was, in fact, under-fuelled from the lack of energon cubes to consume.
As the Decepticon Supreme Commander, Megatron had had his perks in leadership in times of lacking – he had the lion's share in the consumption of energon cubes, but even that was not quite enough. He was far from some overly-pampered Tower mechs, but his gladiatorial schematics meant that his fuel systems processed energon at rates slightly higher than average mechs – after all, strength did not come without its cost. Right now, he was functioning on an average of 42% energy level, far from his optimum working level, but he had to make do. His troops needed their shares of energon if their raid was to come to success. The side-effects of the energy-lacking was evident when he noticed how his joints felt heavy, as if resisting movements he intended; his CPU was sluggish and processing feedbacks at such slowness that an enemy mech could have threw a punch at him and he would be unable to avoid it; his sensory perceptions were also dull and inaccurate.
Venting out an exasperated sigh at his weakness – though understandable as it was – Megatron left the Command Centre without a glance backwards, noticing how his pedes were less-striding-more-shuffling. He was forced to a point of which he needed to grab onto whatever support was in reach when he occasionally stumbled upon returning to his chambers. Megatron had to try three times before he could punch the right passwords on the console for the door to open, cursing his failure to focus on what he was doing. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bother with such fickle security measures like the passwords when he was quite sure that no Decepticon would dare to enter his private spaces without his permission...until he was reminded that there was no guarantee of that. Tyrants like him inevitably garnered a massive crowd of haters in their conquests – though Nemesis was now underwater and there was little chance for the Autobots to be able to infiltrate it, there remained the risks of his own soldiers with festering hatred for him...waiting for an opening to have their revenges. Soldiers whose hatred was strong enough to desire his permanent deactivation or, at the very least, his throne.
Soldiers like Starscream.
The sudden pang that assaulted his Spark was shockingly painful to the Decepticon Supreme Commander; always the thoughts concerning the Seeker affected him in ways he could not perceive. Any leader would not want to lose a good underling, that part Megatron well understood since Starscream was exceptional as a warrior, but the longing he felt was something he was not accustomed to. The pain came again and again, each time with new intensity that he always failed to get used to. Every single time...
Megatron's chamber echoed with the sound of his vents huffing out hot air – uneasiness could cause his systems to overheat as easily as anger would. The mech reached into his sub-space and produced two energon cubes from within – the last ones he had in his personal supply. Now that he had replenished the supplies of energon for his troops, he could get done with these old stock and get himself new ones later. He chose the bigger of the two cubes first and tilted one edge towards his opened mouth components. The purple fluid – looking sometimes liquid and sometimes gaseous, flowed into his oral cavity and straight down the main intake tube where it would end up processed in his fuel tank into readily usable energy. That done, he finished the other cube in a shorter time, threw the empty container aside and laid himself upon the berth in preparation for a recharge. He was already halfway into offline mode when his CPU suddenly gave a faint buzz, as if –
I need to escape...
The Decepticon leader's optics, which had already been dimmed, shone suddenly bright with red glow. It was Starscream's voice, ghostly and almost inaudible. The memory drive hummed and throbbed, but the familiarity in using it enabled Megatron to recognize that Starscream, the mech who voiced the pitiful thought, was still inactive. The warlord had received similar feedbacks ever since last night; every time he did, he tried to connect to the other's meta-processors. He was doing just that right now.
He failed. Every single time he tried, he failed miserably. It was a teasing hope, a disappointing hope...a useless hope.
Starscream...give me more than this excuse of your presence. Stop this torture at once!
Megatron's CPU screamed inwardly; he was not used to have his desires unfulfilled. The dissatisfaction ate at him like some infectious vermin, only that this 'vermin' destroyed not his physical armours but rather his very programming.
Somehow, Megatron had begun to develop hatred for his artificial telepathy. The anonymity of the feedbacks annoyed him until his anger became uncontainable, which was then released on innocent someone who had the misfortune to be nearby. With time, it seemed, when the memory drive adapted more and more to his systems, the link became a somewhat two-way connection in which, under extreme emotional responses, Starscream's meta-processors were granted access to activate the memory drive and download Starscream's data without Megatron's permission first. If this was what Soundwave hat to put up all the time – to have other's emotions and thoughts penetrating his mind – he would rather NOT have it at all.
The Autobots – they're everywhere!
Of course they're everywhere, you fool! You've been captured!
Megatron thought in irritation – Starscream's CPU conjured up fictional experiences that were never was, but there were also painful pasts. This time, the Seeker's nightmare had taken the forms of his last views before he blacked out. Starscream's phantom fear was infectious, affecting Megatron and causing the warlord to seethe with anger; he hated feeling scared, even if it was not his own.
Leave me alone!
Leave ME alone!
Megatron echoed the nightmare-born scream in his processors as frustration overwhelmed him. He was helpless in this regard, an outsider who was forced to hear snippets of Starscream's condition without any guarantee of its truthfulness. He hoped that the flyer would wake up soon enough and spare him the need to hear the distracting voice that resonated again and again in his cranial plating. He had enough matters bothering his CPU without Starscream to add more to the burden! However, no matter how strong his determination, no matter how intense his wishing, there was no way for him to made his thoughts known to the far-away Seeker, for the memory drive permitted only downloading from Starscream, and not the other way round.
Megatron's CPU stalled for an astrosecond; now where did THAT notion came from? Why in the Pit would he want sharing his innermost voice with Starscream, the least trustworthy of his subordinates in the whole Decepticon army?
You...you all will pay for putting me into this...
Finally...it's over.
The hints of echo at the end of this latest thought marked the end of Starscream's nightmare – and Megatron's annoyance – as the Decepticon overlord had discovered with his previous experiences. In some weird way, he was a little disappointed to be cut off from the only link he had to the captured Seeker, but to maintain it was not worth the trouble.
With a grunt, the Decepticon Commander allowed himself to slip into offline mode and powered down his optics. Now, he could finally initiate recharge cycle and allowed his body to activate the self-repair systems to heal the wounds he earned from his clash with Prime. In a few astroseconds, his processors were no longer aware of the world outside his chassis.
Megatron's recharge was far from relaxing that night.
xxxxx
He was falling...falling...falling...
A thousand feet below, the Earth waited to receive his fall. Flight was denied of him because his thrusters and wings were rendered useless by damages. Starscream lived up to his name and screamed his tank dry, but his voice was lost to the roars of wind rushing past his damaged chassis. No one could hear him in such circumstances even if there was someone beside him, but he was alone right now.
Alone in his last astroseconds before his permanent deactivation.
Where was Skywarp? Where was Thundercracker? Where were the flyers who were supposed to be under his command? Where were the other Decepticons who fought under the same banner as he?
Where was his leader, Megatron?
Far down below, colourful points materialized out of nowhere – and those pints moved to converge around a small area, forming a circle directly below him where he was expected to crash-land. Coolant sweats seeped out from seams in his armours and trailed past him as the wind wiped them into streaks. Fear gripped Starscream's Spark when he realized the reason the points moved – because they were robots.
Not just any robots, though; the variants in their colour schemes informed him that they were Autobots, the enemies he had battled for millions of stellar cycles and still was. The red dot amongst its rainbow companions, accompanied by a short grey line behind it confirmed his guess – it was a red truck-head, attached at the hind with a dull-hued container.
It was Optimus Prime.
Starscream's shriek was renewed in synch with his increased terror. Even if he did survive this disastrous fall, the Autobots would not let a Decepticon to continue functioning, especially one with such importance in the Decepticon army. Despite Megatron's mistrust, his Supreme Commander still imparted much Decepticon-related information – even the top secret ones – to Starscream, since his seat of power demanded him to be aware of them. And, though he was always at odds with his leader, constantly seeking openings to overthrow him, the Seeker was NOT a traitor to the Decepticon's cause.
In the last astrometres, the Seeker braced himself for impact – and crashed with an almighty thud. His vocalizer could not even manage a gasp as the impulsive force rippled through his chassis, breaking the yellow cockpit-glass and severing wires by the intense friction his skidding generated. The thinner metals on his face were peeled at one side where it touched the ground. Energon blood flew before one barely-working optic which spewed forth from his ruptured energon lines making up his bundles of neck cables; his other optic lose functionality altogether. Starscream whimpered as he laid there in his own mess, limbs splayed awkwardly and all in wrong angles, awaiting the inevitable. His sensor net was bombarded brutally with pain with intensity of deactivation itself . Already his vision became grainy when his audios perceived approaching pedesteps from everywhere, the unknown mechs stopping just out of reach of his arm – not that he could move any part of his body to begin with.
A large pair of blue legs moved into his visionary field, the largest he had seen so far. Waves of fear flooded his CPU like the ocean in which Nemesis was fated to lie in, here on Earth; He knew to whom these limbs belonged to, and he would be deactivated by the mech whose strength and bravery upheld him as the only worthy opponent of Megatron. Starscream fought to stay online, to remain strong even to his last intake, but his wounds weaken him with each astrosecond he passed being conscious.
Frag you, Autobots! You...you will all pay for putting me into this...
Starscream's CPU managed to process angrily, but the rage abated when a face hidden behind an impenetrable battle-mask was lowered before his own. The Seeker stared back only to see what kind of emotions that might be hinted in those blue optics.
Optimus Prime remained unfathomable; Starscream found himself scared by the lack of emotional clues, but he had no strength left in him to maintain optic-contact. His helm dropped down; Starscream felt himself floated dreamily towards the darkness...
...and was awakened back to a world full of light in the next instant.
The first thing that the Seeker was aware of was that it was NOT dark anymore; his optics were yet to finish rebooting but the sudden illumination almost blinded him. He was also aware of the uniform hardness supporting his back which showed that he was no longer lying on the rocky ground of his crash-site. There was no pain, most importantly. No lingering numbness, no distracting discomfort, nothing. He felt...normal.
Instinctively, Starscream lifted a servo to shield his optics from the paining lights; the surroundings came into focus as he did this. It took him a few nanokliks before his optics adjusted fully – and gasped. If in falling he had had his fears, the feeling was now at least ten times greater than before upon realizing that there could possibly be nowhere else on Earth where area whose paint was so singular other than Nemesis's and the Autobot's the Ark – and the room he was in – the walls around him, the floors beneath his berth, the roofs above him – was dominated, not by the foreboding purple of the Decepticon's star-cruiser, but rather by the warm hue of ORANGE.
His logic circuit suddenly kicked up in activity; his torso shot up so fast so that it looked as if he was fitted with springs. Starscream's panic level shot through the roof – he hated to admit it, and probably never would out loud, but bravery, though he had some in store in which he would derive when circumstances called for it, was not exactly his strongest point. His Spark was not put into being bold and charging into battles heedless of the dangers – what he did was to remain behind the line or up above in the sky where none save for the winged ones could reach him and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike presented itself, seeking openings when his attacks would cause the worst damage. Because of it, Megatron had put a permanent label of him being cowardly. However, the leader's thought was of no significance to Starscream as long as he could keep himself in one piece and survived for as long as needed be until the throne was his to sit freely upon.
Now, though, right in the heart of the enemies' stronghold, being crafty had no place here. Even the Autobots would be aware of his sneaky ways and would be prepared to face his falsehood. Whatever lies he threw in their faceplates would be detected straight away. It was almost impossible to inject back calmness into his systems, but calmed down he did; only with clear processors could he ever have a hope of escaping. He had to think of a way out fast...
...Wait.
Why did he felt that something was wrong? As if...as if he missed a detail in himself, a detail that was so important in his existence that he should not have been parted with it? It was like – like having a part of him removed from his integral being –
Oh, no...
With a trembling servo, he reached out all the way to his back and began to grope around, trying to find that pieces of metals he was so proud of; the simple shapes that gave him the defining characteristic which set him apart from the other Cybertronians in general. His servo swept back and forth, side to side, up and down; no matter how he moved it, his fingertips failed to find the existence of his very wings.
"What it the Pit...?"
Starscream's shocked curse went unfinished when he realized that he was no longer alone in...whatever room he was in. Though still concealed by the deeper shadows where the overhead lamp above Starscream's berth could not light up, there was no mistaking of the outline in the partial darkness to be that of a mech.
"Starscream?"
An unknown voice – but that didn't matter. What did was that they had done what he would never accept. They had parted him from his beloved wings, and for that, this unfortunate mech would receive the brunt of his anger.
Starscream ignored the many wires still hooked to his systems and charged at the enemy.
xxxxx
Perceptor's vents huffed out in annoyance. The scratching had returned again, this time with more insistence that the sounds interrupted the microscope's focus. He needed all attentions that he could spare if he hoped to solve his CPU-crashing calculus. That hope was shattered for the time being with Perceptor's focus diverted to the annoying noises every now and then. Finally, the red-and-teal mech set the datapads he had been working with and got up from his seat. The other Autobots were scheduled to be back in a few more breems, and with them, Ratchet. Only the CMO's arrival would relieve him from this more-or-less sentry duty; in the meantime, he could busy himself to visit the unconscious Starscream and perhaps study the Seeker's anatomy. Maybe he could learn something from observations that would benefit the Autobots in the future.
The med-bay was still silent – there was no reason for it to be noisy – as Perceptor made his way carefully through the medical machines located here and there along the way. The scratching persisted and grew louder as he neared his destination...as if it was sourced from where the Seeker was lying –
Perceptor's chassis grown suddenly rigid at the view his optics were receiving. He had been informed that Starscream was still in recharge and Ratchet's universal override codes had ensured that he remained so...but what he was seeing now was totally the opposite. The Decepticon flyer was up and awake, one servo was extended up and bent to reach behind him. The dark faceplates contorted in a very uncharacteristic anger when the owner realized of the non-existence of his wings.
"Starscream?" the microscope blurted out before he could restrain the urge; Starscream's head looked up, straight in his direction. Blood-red optics flared to full intensity upon setting their sights on him. There was murder in them that Perceptor 's fear blossomed when their optics met.
Before his CPU could process it, Starscream was no longer sitting on the operation berth; aided by the lack of mass his Seeker frame granted, the Seeker lounged for the microscope. Perceptor was not ready for such drastic move and failed to avoid the Seeker's extended servos, which caught him on the tube of his shoulder-mounted microscope. Starscream's momentum carried both mechs backwards, where the two lay sprawled on the floor with Starscream on top, his blue digits frantically searching for weak spots in Perceptor's armour while the slender legs displayed unexpected strength in managing to keep the Autobot floored by digging the knee-joints into his back-strut.
Perceptor tried to retaliate but Starscream, for all his lightweight chassis, proved to possess strength that was shocking for his model. Plus that with Starscream's mental instability, the microscope was totally helpless against an enraged, wingless Seeker. He cried out as both arms were forcibly wrenched back, gathered together at the wrists by Starscream's powerful grip. Perceptor tried to twist out of the Seeker's hold, but a painful digging on his back rendered him totally, completely helpless.
"You, Autobot...you will learn that to make a plaything out of me is very unwise..." the normally high-pitched voice was anything but funny when it was lowered to a threatening growl.
In that instant, Perceptor knew that he was in for a big, BIG trouble.