(3 months since incident)
It was a box canyon of ice and snow, a gulch of cold. Outside stood two Eradicons, eying the white cliffs. The cold bit painfully at a hidden scar on one left arm, and the 'Con known as Sideways reached a hand over to cover it protectively. Next to him the other shuffled a little bit, glancing over at him now and again. Finally the shuffler seem to gather enough courage to say, "So… you're one of Dreadwing's troops."
Sideways nodded and slid his hand off his left elbow. He would not disgrace the Commander by showing any weakness.
"So… what's your designation now?"
He nearly said "67-V4," but that had changed a week ago.
Twenty Eradicons, jets standing at attention, were in formation on the bridge. Feet together, arms at sides, vision straight ahead as Megatron paced in front of them. He stopped at the soldier next to 67-V4 and peer into the optics, leaning down to dominate the Eradicon's personal space. 67-V4 was impressed at how 117-V4 did not balk or squirm at the warlord's inspection – Commander Dreadwing had inspected them many a time but his temperament and presence was far from Megatron's.
It took all his training to avoid flinching as great clawed fingers grasped his own chin, tilting his head this way and that. Red optics eyed every inch of his features, though they were the same as the nineteen others around him.
Finally the powerful grip was released and Megatron took a step back, "At ease."
Feet shoulders-width apart, hands clasped behind their back. As 67-V4 bent it, his left elbow screamed at him. It had never been the same since Knock Out's surgery, but he considered it a boon. It taught him what the Commander had been attempting to knock into him all those training sessions – use speed, not strength, against the larger opponent. With his arm in such a condition, he could not afford to even attempt to stand his ground. As a result dodging and weaving in a fight became second nature to him.
Megatron glanced towards the Commander, "They look no different than any other of my troops."
Below the ice, nineteen Eradicons stood guard, marked from the miners only by the basic difference that would accompany any jet Eradicons. The miners worked hard, energon harvested efficiently, but there was an cloud of anticipation and anxiety amongst all the troops. It was only a matter of time before the sounds of blaster fire and the thrum of Autobots engines sent them all fleeing or to the pit. Experience was a sound teacher.
Megatron and Dreadwing strode through the mine, Dreadwing a step behind. Past them filed the miners to the glacier's entrance beneath the water's surface. The decoded Iacon coordinates had the Nemesis circling the glacier for far longer than any crew felt was ideal. It was Soundwave who had suggested the entrance's true location.
A score of Eradicons, jet, ground, and the trained Sideways, were sent to be the watchmen on the gulch's walls, while the rest dove with the Nemesis beneath the waves. Megatron wanted to witness the performance of Dreadwing's soldiers personally.
"It is not their appearance that has changed, my liege, but their skill."
"Well then... Trooper. Defend yourself."
Megatron moved fast, his quickness was belied by his size. His target, 117-V4, sidestepped and backed away. 67-V4 along with the rest cleared the area as the warlord and minion circled each other.
"Impressive evasion, but surely Dreadwing you have taught them the relationship between a good defense and offense…"
The Eradicon responded with a swift transformation of an arm to a blaster, and two quick shots. Lunging forward, Megatron threw a backhand towards the trooper. Again, evasion, followed by a blow to the warlord's head. The strike connected.
Then 117-V4 was on the ground. 67-V4 hadn't seen it happen; it was too fast.
Strangely, neither Dreadwing nor Megatron looked too disappointed.
"Again, impressive."
117-V4 was sent back to join the rest and another trooper was selected. Twelve times, Megatron toyed with the soldier as Dreadwing watched. Once the Eradicon landed a blow or two, they were swiftly taken down, and another selected.
Thirteenth was 67-V4.
The toying was nothing dissimilar to what he had watch the last twelve times. It wasn't light years away from fighting with the Commander or with his fellow Eradicons. That didn't keep it from being frightening.
Again, all his training, his devotion to this second nature, came into play as he dodged, wove and slid around Megatron's blows. He had yet to land one of his own, and his left elbow throbbed harder, but he saw his opening coming as a fist streaked towards him. 67-V4 sidestepped sent a strike to the helmet.
The warlord's fist changed directions.
Too fast to avoid, 67-V4 threw up his left arm to block the descending fist. Even as the warlord was holding back, the strike destroyed his arm.
A shuddering snap and a few spark-stopping pops. Metal sheared from metal and wires pulled apart. Before startled optics, 67-V4 crumpled to the ground in pain.
It did not take Commander Dreadwing long to realize on whose shoulders the responsibility lay. Nor did it take long for Lord Megatron to know it either. It took even less time for Knock Out to descend into panic over it.
Megatron seemed more furious about the sheer laziness of the medic, while Dreadwing's concern went to his soldier. It took a great deal of discussion between the Decepticon warlord and Commander before 67-V4 was officially granted a position among Dreadwing's force and a name. Despite Knock Out's faults, Megatron still placed the failure to perform adequately on 67-V4, now Sideways', shoulders.
And so he was out here, in the middle of a cold box canyon with the Eradicon 573-V3. A watchdog. Watching nothing.
Sideways paused in his bitterness. Seriously. It had been an hour since the Nemesis had so blatantly circled the glacier. Where were the Autobots?
"I must say, Dreadwing. I am looking forward to your force's performance against Prime's team," Megatron watched the miners work at the energon and Dreadwing could catch a bit of impatience in his voice.
"While I doubt any one-on-one confrontation will end in our favor, my liege, they are trained to work in tandem," Dreadwing replied, trying to hide that he shared in the impatience.
Two hours now. Despite his training, Sideways began to shuffle as uncomfortably as 573-V3. Two hours.
Megatron watched as another load entered the Nemesis. It too, was uncontested. Optics narrowed, he cast his gaze back and forth across the mine. Soundwave. Optimus. They two mechs he could always count on.
So where was the Prime?
Three hours. Sideways was beginning to worry that his internal chronometer was faulty.
The last cube of energon vanished from the ice. Dreadwing had never seen his lord more bewildered in all his life.
Five hours!
Sideways and 573-V3 stared blankly out into the empty, Autobot-less ice and snow. 573-V3 shuffled his feet once more. He suddenly turned his head to Sideways.
"Hey."
Sideways turned to acknowledge him.
"Ever wonder why we're here?"
"I sometimes wonder why I'm here."
He was far from the graves, searching for the grey beast. It was the little voice that stopped him: a third small being. He stopped and knelt next to it.
"Do I do any good? At all?"
The voice sounded so pained, so broken.
"Of course you do," he said. He held out his hand. The little being stepped onto it. "You can help me right now."
A smile met him and the little being sat down and curled up in the palm of his hand. A little bit of hope gathered in him.
Now to find the beast.
A/N Thank you guys so much for the views and reviews. It's a huge blessing to know that this story is - in turn - a blessing to you guys! Keep on creating!
