A/N: Ok wow, what to say. Here's the final chapter. To call this a journey would be an understatement. I won't bore you with too much sappiness but I will say this project has submerged me into an awesome fandom and allowed me to meet some equally awesome people. Thank you Antepathy and Optimus Bob for all the betas, support and love. I seriously might not have finished this without your backing. Thanks again to my faithful readers and reviewers. Your love really is crack. ^_^
There's a pic to go along with this chapter on my DevArt which you can link to from my profile. It's under the name Wildmonarch.
Now, on the with dramaz!
KAON – GLADIATORIAL ARENA – VIP ROOM – PRESENT TIME
BLACKARACHNIA
A peace treaty?
The spider stands at a small table stacked high with untouched energon cubes, her back turned to the VIP throne which Megatron is seated in.
MEGATRON
That is correct.
She collects a couple cubes and brings them to her leader, noting the burns still present on his shoulder and chest.
BLACKARACHNIA
What's the catch?
He stares thoughtfully out the large window overlooking his arena, uninterested in the energon being offered to him.
MEGATRON
We must rebuild Kaon into a self-sufficient and prosperous city.
BLACKARACHNIA
(planting a hand on her hip)
In other words, relieve Iacon of a burden to their economy. (she sets the cubes down and turns toward the window, shaking her head). This city is a wasteland…devoid of any natural resources. How are we supposed to prosper without a steady supply of energon? (gestures to the table) We can't keep expecting handouts from the Elite Guard.
MEGATRON
I do not expect or require any more charitable donations.
She looks over her shoulder to the distant gladiator, attempting to interpret his false sense of calm.
BLACKARACHINIA
(with a sigh)
There's something you should know…
MEGATRON
(ignoring her last comment)
We are not limited by our access to natural resources. The Elite Guard does not realize the popularity of this arena and its potential for revenue. They are fools to allow me to control it once again.
BLACKARACHNIA
(turning to face him, paranoia in her optics)
You're not planning an uprising already are you? The dust from the Quintesson threat hasn't even settled.
MEGATRON
Of course not, don't be ridiculous. This stint of peace will allow me the opportunity to…(a tiny smirk budding) earn their trust. Make them believe I am content to abide on this…reservation.
Blackarachnia can only refresh her optics questioningly at the scheming tyrant.
MEGATRON
(raising an optic ridge to her)
What is the matter?
BLACKARACHNIA
Why can't you just…abide. What's there to gain from rocking the boat?
MEGATRON
(losing his smirk)
Our dignity.
BLACKARACHNIA
I disagree.
MEGATRON
That is because, Blackarachnia, you have much to learn about what it truly means to be a Decepticon.
He rises up, his shadow temporarily engulfing the spider's insulted frown as he passes by her and stops at the window. He watches with a raised brow as Waspinator attempts to battle Lugnut, the Kaon Krusher, in the ring below. Boring quickly of the unbalanced match, he then gazes up to where the Quintesson ship used to be hovering.
MEGATRON
What has become of the ship? Has the Elite Guard claimed it as their own?
BLACKARACHNIA
(remains standing by the throne)
They were going to, but Lockdown and Swindle got to it before they could. They have taken it to Quintessa in hopes of collecting a reward from the Quintesson royalty.
MEGATRON
Figures…and the captured Quintessons?
BLACKARACHNIA
Iacon stockades.
MEGATRON
Hmm…pity. Quintessa put a high bounty on their heads…but I suppose that bounty would only be rewarded if all three outlaws were handed over.
BLACKARACHNIA
I still can't believe Deliberata escaped…
Blackarachnia drops her gaze down, hurt and anger washing over her. She drops a set of balled fists to her sides.
BLACKARACHNIA
I wonder if he's responsible for Starscream's disappearance.
From the corners of her optics, she sees the broad silver chassis tense up and hears a hitch in its ventilating.
MEGATRON
(keeping his back to her but raising his voice)
The only one responsible for Starscream's disappearance is that traitor himself.
BLACKARACHNIA
(her optics brightening in a flash)
What does that mean?
She closes the gap between them and grasps her claws lightly around his arm.
BLACKARACHNIA
(attempting to meet his unreadable optics with her desperate ones)
Did you see him?
Megatron yanks his arm away and turns his back to her once more.
MEGATRON
I watched him flee with the Quintesson. Had I not been saddled with hero duty I would have stopped them, but Optimus Prime insisted we attend to the missile.
BLACKARACHNIA
(her face stricken with horrified disbelief)
No…No! I refuse to believe that. Starscream wouldn't do that…(shaking her head) and Optimus Prime said you two never encountered him.
MEGATRON
(his irritation rising quickly)
It doesn't matter what you believe, these are the facts.
Blackarachnia watches the ruffled mech skeptically as he moves further away from her, swatting the cubes off his throne as he passes by it.
MEGATRON
I am not oblivious to the relationship the two of you built up and I can clearly see you have developed inappropriately strong feelings for him. While I do not know what happened aboard that ship I can venture to guess that he took advantage of your feelings and misled you with a false nobility.
BLACKARACHNIA
(her voice darkening)
You have no idea what you're talking about.
MEGATRON
(continuing brashly)
The fact of the matter, Blackarachnia, is that Starscream is and always will be a mech for himself. He does what he wants, when he wants to and is not mindful of who he has to step on or betray to attain what he wants…or to save his worthless chassis.
The aggravated femme crosses the room in a heated flash, cutting off her leader's path and staring with wild intent into his surprised optics. She leans into him with fangs bared, unbothered by the sheer height difference and nearly pressing him back with her proximity alone.
He narrows his optics and opens his mouth to protest her behavior but she cuts his words off with a growling rasp.
BLACKARACHNIA
Then why did he give me the energon conversion formula.
Megatron freezes, his spark skipping a pulse behind his chest plate.
MEGATRON
He…gave you the formula?
BLACKARACHNIA
Yes…right before he left to deal with the missile. (she brings her hand into Megatron's view, her blue-tipped claws splayed wide and lightly trembling) He also found a means to purge my organic half.
Megatron shoves her aside and turns back toward his throne.
MEGATRON
Are you still obsessed with regaining your Autobot form?
She ignores his attempted conversational diversion and pursues him, shoving him in the back with her altered claws.
BLACKARACHNIA
Why would he do all that if he didn't care about anyone but himself?
MEGATRON
A decoy.
BLACKARACHNIA
(with another shove to his back)
You're wrong!
Megatron whips around and snatches her hand, squeezing it tightly and bearing down upon her with a glare of warning.
The femme is unaffected by his obvious scare tactics and stands her ground, rage bristling through every hybrid circuit in her body.
BLACKARACHNIA
He gave me the formula, Megatron, knowing full well I intended to keep my allegiance to you and the Decepticons. Why would he do that if he was allied with the Quintessons?
He releases her hand but grips her by the arms, pulling her into his deranged glare. She makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper, refusing to be intimidated by his scare tactics.
MEGATRON
Are you able to comprehend the meaning of the formula and actually make use of it or is it just an untranslatable lump of figures in your processor?
The femme opens her mouth to speak but is unable to find the words.
Megatron soaks in her dumbfounded gape with disappointment then gently lowers her to the floor.
BLACKARACHNIA
I—I would have to dedicate countless hours into the study of organic chemistry, and even then—
MEGATRON
It was a decoy…to make you believe he wouldn't betray either of us.
Blackarachnia chases away her doubt and snaps a confident glare to the tyrant, her courage bubbling to the surface again.
BLACKARACHNIA
You don't know that, you weren't there! You didn't see the look in his face...
Megatron turns away, feigning disinterest.
BLACKARACHNIA
…or feel the fear in his spark.
MEGATRON
Are you finished?
The femme gasps at his heartlessness, her ventilation rate increasing with the repulsion building in her spark. Her lips pinch tight and her optics blaze as she looks him over, noting his uneasy stance and inability to mask a guilty awkwardness.
BLACKARACHNIA
You're hiding something.
MEGATRON
(ignoring her accusation)
If you haven't any more useful information for me then I suggest you—
BLACKARACHNIA
What happened, Megatron?
She steps in front of him again, her facing twitching with too many emotions to contain in a single expression.
BLACKARACHNIA
What did you do?
He looks down upon her, his expression equally twitching but with a different set of emotion and that's all it takes to clue the femme into the truth. Her chest heaves up and down, whimpers escaping through her gritted teeth. She gives into her crippling rage and throws her fists against his chest.
BLACKARACHNIA
What did you do to him!?
Her stingers cock forward and glow green with venom.
BLACKARACHNIA
(pounding his chest again)
Tell me!
Megatron forces her stingers down with irritation, pinning them to her as his massive hands engulf her upper body.
MEGATRON
Get yourself under control.
She struggles and writhes in his grip, never once removing her blaring optics from his.
BLACKARACHNIA
You monster! You did something to him, I know you did!
He turns her around, maintaining a firm grip but preventing her from witnessing his break of emotional control. He pulls her back flush to his chest as she continues to struggle, her growls giving in more to her whimpers.
She knows her attempts to break free of his hold are futile but that doesn't stop her from trying. She claws at the broad arms constricting her, delirious with frustration.
BLACKARACHNIA
Just tell me what happened!
He remains silent but his actions speak volumes. She finally lets herself go limp in his hold when she feels the dramatic rise and fall of his chest against her back and the strange resonation of his spark.
BLACKARACHNIA
(her optics dimming in a crushing realization)
Please…I have to know.
Megatron remains silent and walks to the door, pushing her with him. He flings the door open, shoves her through it then slams it before she can get her footing and pursue him.
He drifts back to his throne, straining to block out the femme's desperate cries and pounding on the door. Her cursing soon gives way to broken words and violent sobs. The pounding stops and he hears only the scraping of her body as she slides down the door. He can clearly see, despite the thick opacity of his door, the image of her body collapsing in a sobbing mess.
The troubled tyrant falls into his throne, splaying his arms over the armrests and wincing at each sob seeping into the room. He leans forward into his legs, dropping his gaze to the floor and pinching the bridge of his nose hard enough to crack it. Unbothered by the sting of his injury, he vents a long, regretful sigh.
***
Blackness. A possible eternity of blackness, finally chased away with purple, magenta, orange and a breeze of warmth.
A solar-rise. The most anticipated solar-rise of my functioning.
But is it real or a dream? Each dent, each torn fuel line. My bleeding energon mixing with the gritty desert dust; my shattered cockpit and cracked sparked chamber. All these things feel real. A chassis doesn't scream agony from helm to thruster when you're dreaming.
I try to move, but just as in a dream, I am unable to. I visualize sitting up, my weight pressed into my arms, my feet sliding under my crouched body as I stand. All my concentration is in this action yet I can barely illuminate my optics to see the stars fade into the vivid gradient of morning.
Morning…that equates to a new cycle which means if this truly isn't a dream then the missile did not detonate on Cybertron.
Was I successful? Did I redirect it and actually live? Perhaps I failed and all of Cybertron's sentient life has been deactivated…except for my spark. Could that be possible? Could my spark…my mutated, resilient spark withstand the devastating force of a Quintessonian weapon of mass destruction?
Doubtful.
I wouldn't have a chassis intact enough to be maddening me with pain if that were the case. No…Cybertron is safe. I can feel it…in the crisp morning air, she is unchanged. Her inhabitants awake, unaware to the monotonous routine they almost lost.
Why can't I remember the missile? Do I have amnesia? What do I remember? The Quintessons. The converter. Blackarachnia…a kiss. The kiss of a Black Widow. Isn't that bad luck in some cultures? It's a good thing I don't believe in luck.
The formula.
I can't remember the formula. Did it physically transfer to her instead of just copy over? Did I give her all my organic knowledge? No, I couldn't have. I can still feel…him. The human professor. I still have all his knowledge, all his…ethics. Why would only the formula transfer over? That doesn't make any logical sense. Did that ninja interfere with me using his blasted Processor over Matter? Did I come in contact with any of those spiritual saps?
No.
Now I remember…There was only one other I came in contact with after leaving the lab.
FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP
Starscream slinks down the corridor, his thoughts locked on the missile and the missile alone. He can't think about anything else, not Blackarachnia, not the formula, not even victory. All these things could hinder him from his purpose, make him seek an alternative. There may just be an alternative to his burdened body taking full responsibility of Cybertron's future, but he doesn't have the time to figure it out.
He stops and looks over his wings, wincing at the encumbering restraints. He tries to pull them off but it's no use. They're snapped on tight and tearing them off could leave his wings worse off than they are now. He feels confident in his assumption that Sevax can no longer torture him, given the painful cries he heard from the Quintesson echoing in the hallway outside the lab earlier, but that doesn't erase his grudge against the alien. The cries he heard were only a teaser to the kind of punishment that sadistic being should be subjected to. No one has ever humiliated Starscream to that extreme before, not even Megatron. How dare that filthy creature be so brash?
He curses internally, his bitterness toward the Quintesson threatening to distract his mission with the temptation of seeking vengeance. Reaching the end of the corridor, he rounds the corner but looks behind him down the opposite hall. He has a strange feeling he's being tracked, like someone's tracing his energy signature.
He turns to face forward just as his path is obstructed by something: a pair of swords, giant swords, frightfully familiar swords, planted into the floor and forming a large 'X'. He lifts his glance to view the towering form a mere couple steps behind the swords.
STARSCREAM
Me—Megatron!?
The stunned seeker staggers back a few steps, his mouth still gaping with the gasp that spoke his leader's name.
Megatron's mass fills the corridor, blocking Starscream's view of the missile bay door. But it's not as though Starscream is trying to see anything beyond the stalwart silver wall, not when it stands unbreakably and wears a deep, glowering frown.
MEGATRON
(with a whispering growl)
Arm yourself.
Starscream glances between the gladiator and the swords, knowing full well what they symbolize.
STARSCREAM
Megatron, listen to me.
MEGATRON
(taking a step forward)
Choose your sword.
STARSCREAM
(taking a step back)
I won't.
The impatient tyrant yanks his swords from the floor, jerking them upright into the same symbolic X. He shoves Starscream into the wall with the weapons, the blades forming a V just under the tapered chin.
MEGATRON
(leaning in close)
I said…choose…your sword.
STARSCREAM
(his voice sliding into a frightened and frustrated shriek)
This is not the time or place. I need to stop that missile!
MEGATRON
(punching his fist into the small gap of wall between the seeker's wing and helmet)
What kind of fool do you take me for?
STARSCREAM
A clueless one! Do you not hear the countdown?!
Megatron presses a blade into his former second's neck and bores his blazing glare into him.
MEGATRON
All I hear is the sniveling of a coward. Now, for the last time…choose your weapon.
STARSCREAM
(anger overriding his fear)
No! It's pointless! These swords are your weapons and you're functioning at full power. Perhaps you should recheck your definition of a coward!
The screeching, brash words seem to push Megatron back. He glances over the restraints on Starscream's wings, appearing to study them. Then, with brutish but precise swings of his sword, he slices each restraint off without even a scratch to the jet's body.
Starscream presses his back against the wall, flinching, anticipating an assault but is instead forcefully handed a sword. He takes it reluctantly and watches with worried irritation as Megatron assumes a fighting stance.
STARSCREAM
(after a courage-building moment)
What are you trying to prove here!? (he bitterly tosses the sword onto the floor) You know I don't stand a chance against you like this. I can't defeat you without—
The gladiator throws his sword down, cutting off the seeker's words then capturing him in a one-handed choke-hold. He leans in even closer than before; close enough so Starscream can smell the heated air seeping through the gritted teeth.
MEGATRON
Exactly Starscream, you cannot defeat me.
He plows his fist into a wing, nearly wiping out the Decepticon symbol on it. The seeker bites back a scream but can't prevent his body from shuddering in agony.
MEGATRON
Not with some silly invention…
He repeats the previous action on the same wing, this time pulling a wrenching yelp from his victim.
MEGATRON
Or a pathetic army of clones…
Starscream groans as he's peeled off the wall then hurled into the opposite one, his cockpit shattering upon the impact. He crumples to the floor, grasping at the stinging pain in his chest.
MEGATRON
And especially not with an alien alliance.
The tyrant plows his foot into the jet's side, pinning the limp body into the wall for a regretfully satisfying moment then pulling away to survey the damage.
Several burst fuel lines spurt out energon and broken circuits spark and fizzle, but the seeker bites back his agonizing groans. He pulls himself to his hand and knees, trying to ignore spatter of his own fluids below him.
The towering gladiator adjusts a few settings on his arm cannon then points it directly at the bleeding, dented chassis of his air commander.
MEGATRON
You have betrayed me for the last time, Starscream.
Starscream searches around himself in a last ditch effort then locks focus onto a panel on the wall. He flings it open and grabs a small blaster housed inside. He hears the familiar power-up song of a fusion cannon and is about to fire upon his leader but both mechs are distracted by the announcing of the final 10 nanoseconds before the missile launch.
Starscream seizes the moment and blasts the fusion cannon off Megatron's arm. Another two shots land on the tyrant's shoulder and chest, causing him to twist and growl with irritation, but they didn't even break the surface of his chassis. Starscream only managed to anger his attacker even more.
Megatron bears down on the kneeling jet, lifting him by the collar fairing then slamming him into the wall. He plows his knee into the sheered talons still grasping the blaster, crushing both Starscream's hand and the weapon.
Starscream bites down on another regretful scream, his body too weak to withstand the pain anymore. Who is he kidding? Masking pain has never been a successful tactic in sparing himself from beating before. It only encourages Megatron to keep at it until he gets his desired reaction.
He illuminates his optics and stares into the deranged gaze boring into him, conceding to let his nemesis see him for all he is; see his naked fear and desperation in its entirety.
STARSCREAM
(his voice growing weaker by the moment)
Everything will be destroyed…and Cybertron's blood will be on your hands…if we don't do something about that missile, right now.
MEGATRON
(unwavering)
Your attempts at deception are futile.
Starscream hangs his head in defeat as Megatron pulls him off the wall then drags him into missile bay. He beholds the large opening in the floor where the missile used to be, the hatch still open and allowing him a full view of Kaon below. The city's buildings are tiny and faint but he can still clearly make out the arena; the birthplace of his honored faction and the first place he ever laid optics on the stubborn mech who has just unknowingly assigned himself to missile duty.
STARSCREAM
(hardly able to speak)
You're wasting…valuable time.
With a firm grip to his neck, Megatron lifts the broken flyer up and dangles his listless body over the open hatch.
MEGATRON
(his stern expression fighting back a hint of sadness)
I regret every moment I wasted deeming you worthy enough to serve at my side.
STARSCREAM
Finish me quickly then…so you can get to that missile. (meeting his optics with a pleading sincerity) It flies slowly so you can still catch it…but you mustn't waste any more time.
MEGATRON
Enough.
STARSCREAM
(persisting)
Once you reach it, steer it into the upper atmosphere and release it. Your thrusters should be more than powerful enough.
MEGATRON
Will you desist already!? Can you not face your punishment with dignity and die like a warrior?
STARSCREAM
I was fully prepared to until you intervened with your time-old idiocy! Now Cybertron's fate is left to your bumbling, should you actually realize the responsibility you've just brought upon yourself.
Megatron's optics narrow and his frown deepens as he looks into his former second's dimming optics.
STARSCREAM
Do what you must, Megatron, just do it quickly…you can still stop that missile. Don't sacrifice all of Cybertron just so you can satisfy your petty lust for vengeance.
MEGATRON
You…(he's struck with a stinging realization) You're serious.
STARSCREAM
Of course I'm serious, you stubborn old fool.
He summons the last of his energy and digs his talons into the sensitive cabling of Megatron's arm. The tyrant growls at the unexpected assault and reactively releases his grasp on the seeker's neck.
Starscream falls through the hatch, catching only a quick glimpse of Megatron's horrified expression and hearing his name shouted from the rapidly shrinking hatch. His leader's voice rings in his cortex long after the rush of passing air engulfed auditory senses.
CYBERTRONIAN DESERT – JUST OUTSIDE KAON – PRESENT TIME
The morning light silhouettes the distant image of Kaon on the horizon, a similar scene to one back on Earth, specifically Dinobot Island. Starscream thinks back to that memorable morning when he gazed fearfully at his pathetic excuse for a leader, anticipating a punishment that would have left him in a similar state to what he's in now. But Megatron had not punished him during that encounter. He instead had spoken about teamwork as if the notion had just dawned on him. Stupid old fool never did catch on quickly. He always had to learn the hard way.
The grounded flyer wonders what became of the damnable mech. Did the old bastard actually listen to him and redirect that missile? Did he survive it or is he blown all to pit? The image makes Starscream want to smile, if he could muster the strength to. Unfortunately his instinctive genius contradicts the delectable vision of an obliterated Megatron. He can feel in what's left of his dwindling spark that the incompetent imbecile still functions and is no doubt moping around the arena trying to justify his typically impulsive aggression that cost him a valuable warrior and superior replacement.
Starscream is uncertain how long he can survive like this; bitter, immobile, leaking precious energon. Even his relentlessly burning (and quite impressive) spark must have its limits. He dims his optics and wipes his processor of all its disturbing thoughts. He needs every ounce of positive focus to keep his spark online. Ignore the anger, the pain. He would call for help but it would have taken a miracle of science for his communicator to survive that beating. All he can do is wait. Focus and wait. Someone will come for him. Hopefully someone other than Megatron. Perhaps Blackarachnia, Swindle or Prowl. The only beings that took a chance and trusted him. One of them will come for him. One of them must know he's still alive.
I never promised a Happily Ever After! Don't hate me. =P
However, this is not the end. In fact, there's a whole collection of madness based in this universe, taking place during this time of peace on Cybertron. I have joined with Antepathy and Optimus Bob in writing a fic called Cybertronian Nights which can be found in my fav stories. It NOT in script format (thank primus) and tells the story of a little brothel outside Kaon. Did I mention it was rated M and contains sticky slash? Yeah, you've been warned. XP
There will also be a non-slash follow-up to this chapter that I will post as a separate story, so if you're not a slash fan but MUST know what happens to Screamer, stay tuned. ^_^
xoxo
ToyzInTheAttic