In less than twenty- four hours, Mikaela Banes was famous.
Of course, she wasn't known as Mikaela Banes. She was known for the notorious Decepticon, Roadrunner, henchman of Megatron, comrade of Air Commander Starscream.
Murderer. Destroyer.
It was all over the networks. The strange attack on the Brotherhood HQ, footage of three Cybertronians transforming and speeding away, fast, but not fast enough that the news camera's couldn't get it all on video.
In less than twenty-four hours, she, Megatron, and Starscream were on every news station, on the internet, on YouTube and everywhere else.
It was insane.
"Check it again," Megatron drawled.
"Checking it won't make it go away," Starscream muttered, but alas, a flicker of light rolled across his eyescreen. He shook his head and went back to toying with the side of Mikaela's head, trying desperately to fix her damaged audio receptors. But Starscream was not a medic, and when he had mentioned Scalpel, Mikaela had furiously shook her head, memories of the horrible doctor washing over her like a wave.
"Can we at least delete the footage? Hijack the networks and delete it all?" Starscream asked twisting his head to cast a somewhat disgusted glance in Megatron's direction. The leader was lounging back against a gigantic redwood tree, picking pine leaves and dried dirt off his armor.
"I don't know if this is true, its just my theory," Mikaela raised her hands and said, "The internet probably has more modules than the human brain. And not to mention the network, and, of course, verbal information. Even beings as advanced as ourselves wouldn't be able to wipe it all the information away."
"Are you sure about that?" Starscream murmured in her ear, Mikaela wincing when the tip of his talons began to finger the wires up under her armor, tweaking them this way and that.
"I don't know why you, of all people, wouldn't want to dispel your spotlight," Mikaela replied, chuckling. "Isn't attention what you've always longed for?"
Starscream didn't respond to that.
"It's not the attention, it's the consequences," Megatron said. "The Brotherhood was able to get the better of us this time, and that was only one pitiful organization. Earth is going to be seeking vengeance this time, not just the Brotherhood."
"So you want to hide?" Mikaela scoffed, turning to stare into his big red optics.
"Precisely. Just until I can organize my men. I'm sure most scattered after the Brotherhood incident," Megatron leaned up and said with a sigh, "A shame."
"Starscream should be of some help in the cowardice compartment," Mikaela called, grinning. She didn't disagree with him, she didn't know why she would. Going back to Optimus at this point was insane, not to mention Fisher was still at large and temping the government.
Mikaela was sure he had a few words to say about the matter.
"I novel idea, Mikaela," Megatron turned to Starscream, baring his dripping incisors. He said, "Tell me, Starscream, what would you have done in such a predicament?"
Starscream gulped, and Mikaela could see the gears whirring in his head as he desperately tried to come up with an answer. Finally, he opened his mouth and said, "I would take from what Barricade did."
"Hide behind a company? Stoop to his level?" Mikaela threw back her head and laughed.
And then, her laugh died when she realized that Megatron was staring at his second-in-command with….understanding? Mikaela made a noise of disbelief in the back of her throat, saying, "You're really not considering this, are you?"
"Again, Starscream, you've come up with a plan that is completely idiotic–"
"– not to mention delusional, humiliating, and a disgrace to our species," Mikaela added.
"But it actually might work."
Two jaws dropped. Starscream's disbelief at his master acceptance was portrayed by the way he made a small whine, and then looked at Mikaela for support. Mikaela just shrugged and gazed at Megatron, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"Optimus knows me better than any of you," Megatron's optics were cold, and he waved at talon at Starscream, and then Mikaela. "He knows that I would never bend to the will of a human."
"It's the one thing he wouldn't expect from us," Mikaela said, the recognition dawning on her. She glanced at Starscream and said, "I'm impressed."
"We're smarted than you think," Starscream replied, tapping the side of his helm. "Selective intelligence. It's what makes us better than the meatbags."
"I wouldn't call it that," Mikaela murmured, then glanced at Megatron. He had leaned back and was looking even more smug than before, the pieces of the puzzle having fallen into place just as he had planned. Mikaela could see the pride twinkling in his deep red optics, and she folded her hands across her lap and tried to look a little proud.
She had to shut out the guilt, she told herself. This was her life, her world, her decisions. She wasn't like the others.
Everything, in the blink of an eye, had been taken away from her.
"We just have to find a commendable client. Mikaela, you're more in tune with human corporations than any of us," Megatron jerked a chin in her direction. "Any suggestions?"
She had one, but she didn't want to say it. It tugged at the back of her mind, the conversation with the one human female who knew her best coming back to her, about a little girl who spent all her time away from a family that barely paid her any attention.
And that, in itself, worked to Mikaela's advantage. She didn't want to risk crushing anyone more than she already had.
"Come now, don't be shy," Megatron purred.
Mikaela steeled herself and said, "Have any of you heard of Jude Garrison?"
"We leave tomorrow," Megatron stepped over a recharging Starscream, kneeling in front of Mikaela, who had her back pressed against a tree.
"Tomorrow?"
"We can't risk staying in one place for too long. Most of our bases have been overrun by Autobots, and we need to get to safety as quickly as possible," Megatron glanced at Starscream. "You and – believe it or not – Starscream are the only ones I trust now. No one else."
"It's because we're on board with everything you say."
"It's because you both have sense. One more than the other, but what can you say?" Megatron chest rose and fell as he gave a sickening chuckle, reaching over and flicking Starscream in the back of the helm. The winged mech didn't even flinch at the contact.
"I say that this is all bullshit. My life, your life, everything. I feel like I'm in one, gigantic, open air asylum."
"That will change soon."
"Yeah, right," Mikaela waved a hand. "It will be a miracle if Garrison takes us in."
"You have ties with his daughter. We could, if possible, use her as leverage," Megatron fell back on his rear, leaning beside Mikaela. Their shoulder barely brushed and Mikaela could already feel a spark, a flash of heat at the center of her core.
Stop that, she told Roadrunner.
You know you want him. You know that he wants you, and that should be enough.
Mikaela made a noise of disgust and replied to Megatron, "No. No leverage. We're playing this safe, no matter how difficult it may be."
"Are you processors malfunctioning?" Megatron suddenly hissed. "What about this is safe?"
"The part where we make the right decisions and make sure nobody else gets hurt," Mikaela replied, optics glinting red. She bared her own teeth and snarled, "I can't risk any more lives. I can't risk being called a….."
"A what? A monster? An alien?" Megatron barked a short laugh. "Human slur should mean nothing to you."
"Why?"
"Because we use it as well," Megatron replied. "Fleshling. Meatbag. Pathetic little balls of flesh and bone and acid. We use these words because they are true."
"But we're not monsters."
Megatron tilted his head back and looked up at the stars, a sad, sad expression overtaking his cold demeanor. Mikaela watched as he sighed, his finger reaching over to touch her thigh.
For once, Mikaela did not shrink away.
"It's how you hold yourself that matters. Roadrunner, in particular, was exposed to a peculiar way of living."
Mikaela remembered the vision, the cackling head and Roadrunner father as he yelled after her.
"Roadrunners father invented the download tech," she looked up at Megatron. "Right?"
"He offlined before it was ever finished."
"Then how…."
"Ratchet stole it eons ago, just after his death. You should give the doctor some credit for acclimating it to," Megatron laughed. "But its not who made it, it's what it was intended to be used for."
"Transplants. A body gets old, or wounded, you just shove the mind and spark into a new one. It was like a religion to Roadrunners father," Megatron didn't bother to hide his disgust. He continued, "And he passed it on to his youngling. The belief that a body is just a body, that the mind is the only thing that matters. And because of her father, it's what most of the Decepticons stand by."
That's what separates us from the humans, Roadrunner cut in. Not our size, or our strength, but from the fact that we live inside our minds. Even if you were to shrink us down to human size, then we would still be better.
"But I'm not like that," Mikaela said softly. "I'm not her."
"You are in more ways than you think. Roadrunner was manipulative, deceitful. Lied to me by going off to have nice, long frags with Optimus. And vice versa. But even then, her actions had some virtue. She was able to lie and cheat to protect the ones she cared about," Megatron looked down at her. "Just like you did to 'protect' your father."
Mikaela gulped.
"I'm not like her."
The more she said, the more Mikaela realized that it wasn't true.
Megatron only smiled, standing to go back over to his redwood. Mikaela watched him lean against it, his optics slowly dimming until they were nothing but dark orbs.
Mikaela stayed awake.
It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be true. Everything that had happened, the crash, her transformation, was the result from a single mech, eons ago, trying to make a difference.
But Megatron was wrong about the humans. They weren't weak, they were just different. More similar to Cybertronians than any other species in the solar system, and Mikaela could see that, so why couldn't Megatron?
He was just like Fisher in so many ways that it made Mikaela want to gag.
And Sam, oh, even Sam had seen it at one time. He just couldn't take it, and had left. Left her, because she had become something different. Typical prejudice.
But Mikaela couldn't blame Sam, after all he had seen. She couldn't blame any of the mech's; Ratchet, Ironhide….Optimus. It wasn't their fault all this had happened, and it never would be. She just hoped they understood the human component of things, that even if Cybertronians felt with their minds, and humans felt with their bodies, held themselves a little differently, looked a little different, that they weren't weak or monsters or pathetic, that they couldn't help it.
It was just the way they were built.
That's the end! Thank you all who reviewed for sticking with me this long, I really appreciate it. I hope the ending didn't stink to bad, but...ah well. It was fun to write!
Over and Out