Chapter 20
(A/N: I'm sorry for the late update! Happy Belated New Year and a belated Merry Christmas! Warning: Very graphic)
He crouched on a rooftop overlooking a street in what was once the auto-manufacturing capital of the United States. Now? It was nothing more than a ruined shell of a wreck. A fading and corrupted echo of past-national glory. While it was on the road to recovery, the Union had invaded and more. The robotic canine sentinel gritted his teeth. In a way, it was a lot like New Home.
If Optimus were online right now; he'd be having a spark attack. No doubt about it. Speaking of which- He laid down on his four paws and began typing up an e-mail on the Ether. He used a concealment program, made sure it could get through a certain-someone's spam folder. Then, he made sure to emphasize the warning as well as his request. Finally, he fired it off before typing up another one for another person. The usual shindig: warning said person not to get his little brother and his friends killed, not to let them do anything stupid, watch them like a hawk-et cetera. Doubtless both persons would find the e-mails unamusing. But, then again: this was family he was talking about. He hadn't seen that kid in over fifty years and it just so happened when he was about to do his part in Detroit...again.
"God damn it," He sighed to himself. "Why the fuck can't this place ever stay fixed? Primus: Shit should've been torn down and built over years ago. What's the point in keeping this hunk of shit?" He muttered to himself, his metallic lips making a sort-of scraping noise while he spoke.
Just then-as if it were an answer from God- he saw a purple cloud in the distance that moved against the wind. "Goddammit: this 'smoke' shit again? Really?" He sighed to himself in annoyance. These guys never take a hint and fuck right off. Now, if they could go back across the Pond and go back to the shitholes they came from, that would be great. Oh, and the Union folks that pretty much started this whole shit in the first place turn themselves in for war crimes. Yeah, great going-assholes. "Should've killed those fuckers at that meeting," He muttered to himself, cynically remembering an event that in-essence, started this whole war and then some. That meeting that was the very birth of the Union and one of the worst days that ever happened to him. He remembered pleading with them to see reason, to not do this. Instead: history repeated itself.
"Music's playing, might as well dance." He said to himself glumly as he started playing music that only he could hear on his own channel. Personally, he felt that some Avenged Sevenfold would do... or maybe Disturbed. Disturbed helped release some pent-up feelings. Then, he thought about something hadn't happened in awhile. What about Nine Inch Nails? See how that goes? He shrugged his canine shoulders. 'Might as well', he figured. He played 'Head Like A Hole', hearing its beginning tropical beat as he braced himself for a run. He sprinted forward then jumped, using thrusters that were embedded into his legs to add extra height before he got to the edge of a roof. The cloud traveled, most likely advancing before a mechanized column of a few spider-tanks and a platoon or so of infantry. He'd done 'interventions' before and then some. Of course, there was his 'intervening' and that of another's... well-more than one.
Over him the skies were awash in flaming debris that fell along with missiles, bullets, wings-perhaps whole air groups' worth of fighters, bombers and drones all duking it out for this city that had held out like Stalingrad for four years. It had been besieged during the early part of the war when the Union made their advance. It had been a hell of a lot luckier than New York, for sure.
A flaming husk of something fell in front of him before his second-to last jump as Union drones flew a victory lap behind him. He cursed again and thanked God that the drones hadn't started shooting at him. He had a concealment program on him at the moment. It allowed him to move freely while remaining undetected by both Union and Polity forces... electronically, of course. There was so much one man could do.
As he saw the smoke fly farther away towards a Vanguard position when he landed on the building right beside the alleged column's advance, he looked over the edge to verify. In addition to the concealment program, his camouflage reflected that of the surrounding architecture.
"Well, someone give me a medal." He sighed to himself. . He'd been right: a mechanized/armored column. Five spider tanks, about a a platoon or so of Union troops... somewhat standard operating procedure. The apparent platoon leader was pointing while walking at the front of the column. The way the officer walked with a swaggering sense of self-importance and the not-so subtle looks of annoyance from helmeted Union troops signified the hatred they had for their lieutenant.
While he was crouched, his back legs opened, revealing launchers that popped out grenades of various types along with twin energon-machine guns with rounds that were made from his own blood. The grenades were of a different matter and had to be replenished every so often. Usually through black market contacts... or procuring them through legally adjacent means. Hey, there was a war on, so he was halfway through the clear. Besides, he had racked up enough dough to pay the fees.
He fired off a salvo of around four smoke grenades, the canisters deploying their payload right they arrived at their target destination. Then, he leapt down before the spider-tanks could aim their turrents at him, his camouflage now off. He transformed in mid-air as soon as he was in the cover of the smoke.
Electronics pulsed while his body changed form. Landing on his own two feet, his vision changed from 'normal' to magnetics. His left arm transformed into an energon cannon as the enemy now fired blindly at their assailant. Their outlines appeared as red-hot silhouettes. His left and right arms transformed into energon swords. Then, the slaughter began.
For many, the last things they saw in the misty zone was a red hot flash and a brief searing pain. They deserved a lot worse in the eyes of the world. At the very least, justice was served. Just not the way anybody was expecting it. All anyone would see through the smoke filled fog were the confused tracers leaving it, the cries, shouts, and screams followed by twin red blurs that sliced through metal and flesh.
The spider-tanks outside of the fog didn't fire until the lone wolf exited the fog, their twin gatling guns trying to shoot him as he leapt through the air. He activated the thrusters and hovered in the air before letting out an electronic screech, jamming all communications and anything electronic within at the very least two blocks. He had made sure to adjust the radius due to the joint Vanguard/Detroit cops holding the line. After all, one can't defend a city if there aren't any communications up and running.
The remaining troopers and the spider-tanks shuddered as the screech seemed to enter their very souls before he resumed his attack. His left arm turning into an energon cannon, in this case a long barrel about a quarter of a meter and opened fire on the first tank he saw in front of him, making a hole in both machine and pilot that made said machine sink to the ground. The second found a somewhat similar fate. He deactivated his thrusters, making him land as he narrowly dodged a cannon shot from the second. The third, fourth and fifth fired at him, making nothing but craters in the ground as he effortlessly dodged all of the salvos, firing his own shots with perfect shots that took decades to master. AP rounds sped past him as he flipped over and twisted his body to dodge them.
His cannon roared several times, his aim changed within mere seconds of each succeeding shot. The remaining infantrymen, by now, were falling back as they realized it was a hopeless battle. He had already taken care of several that used the hacking gun that usually worked on non-sentient robots. Keyword: Non-sentient. He had to snicker at the thought of Ratchet being pissed at one of those being fired at him. He nearly laughed at this.
The lone wolf took aim at the retreating Union infantry as they pulled back, firing blindly behind them. He resisted the urge to shoot the sons of bitches in the back. He wouldn't stoop that low unlike those cocksuckers.
"That's right, you sons of bitches!" He shouted in a much deeper and metallic voice. "RUN!" He shouted as they literally ran like hell. "And tell your fucking masters that I sent you!" He shouted after them. After they disappeared in the distance, he nodded with satisfaction. One down, a hell of a lot to go. He turned around to see if the nano-cloud was still operating. A quick zoom revealed it wasn't. He smiled, knowing at least a part of the city defenses would still be up for a little longer Just then, a shadow passed over him. He looked up, pissed. A lot of shadows had passed over him. This one was different.
"You have to be shitting me," He muttered to himself as he scanned the warring skies. If there was one here... that meant a whole fucking squad at worst and a fireteam at best. The absolute worst was the most terrifying thing he didn't want to think of. He readied himself for a fight, looking around for his assailant.
He heard something coming down the street and was about to turn when something caught him by the neck, grabbing it as he somehow flew through the air and off his feet.
"SON OF A BITCH!" He roared, turning his head to see a giant emerald-colored, wicked-looking metal face with red optics grinning at him
"WELL, WELL, WELL." The flying giant chuckled. "LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT TODAY-A PUPPY!" The thing laughed, before tossing him like a mere rag doll into a glass building, shattering what was left of the windows. His body bounced and rolled across the floor. He grunted in pain as he tried to get up.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE JOINED US WHILE YOU HAD THE CHANCE: FENRIR!" The robot sneered as its face peered in.
"And you should've listened to me when I told you bastards that he was lying!" The being known as 'Fenrir' retorted, pointing at him with his blade.
The giant wrinkled its nose in disgust.
"OH? THEN EXPLAIN HOW THE HUMANS USED YOU AS A TOOL IN THEIR WARS?" The thing mocked in retort. He gritted his teeth. "Fair enough," Fenrir said, nodding.
"YOU'VE BEEN A PAIN IN OUR ASS FOR TOO LONG, DOG! EITHER COME QUIETLY OR IN PIECES! EITHER WAY, WE WILL LEARN OF THE OTHERS." The thing threatened. "How about-FRAG YOU!" Fenrir roared as he fired two salvoes from his energon cannon before turning to run the other way, using his thrusters to help with the speed. He didn't know if the rounds hit or not. He dove out the other direction before the flying green giant could grab him again.
::Maximize Cybertronian Form!:: He mentally ordered.
::Maximizing:: His HUD informed him, his body already growing larger by each second, cracks forming on the ground beneath him as he grew in size.
"WHY DO YOU FIGHT FOR THESE HUMANS?! THEY EMBODY THE CORRUPT IDEOLOGY OF THE PAST!" His opponent asked rhetorically as he took a swipe at him. Now at full height, he dodged the claw.
"THAT'S A QUESTION YOU SHOULD ASK YOURSELF, CYBERCON." Fenrir said, his mouth moving underneath the visor.
"YOU THINK YOURSELF A PRIME?!" The Cybercon asked in disbelief as its fists clenched. He laughed.
"'ONE SHALL STAND, ONE SHALL FALL'." Fenrir said that famous quote, transforming his sword and cannons back into hands. Then, from his right wrist, an energon war axe was produced, its blade growing red hot.
"YOU FRAGGING IMPOSTER!" The Cybercon roared, leaping at him with his twin jet engines activating. Fenrir uppercutted him, sending the freak's ass into the air. Probably not the best of ideas.
He turned around to see two spider tanks that crawled over a building before turning into forty-and-thirty-foot tall mechs themselves. A Union fighter came down from the fight in the skies and also transformed, hovering next to his kinsman.
"FACE IT, YOU'RE OUTNUMBERED AND OUTGUNNED, PRETENDER!" One of the spider-mechs said, pointing at him while the metal spider legs came out of his back. Fenrir smirked under his visor, crouching into a fighting stance.
"BRING IT ON," Fenrir said as they all came at him. He spun-kicked while he jumped hitting the first flyer he faced in well-the face, knocking his sibling down to the ground as well while the two spider-mechs jumped back in surprise or barely dodged the axe that came their way. Both of the spiders used their legs that now had sharpened ends to stab at him, only for him to dodge the blow and let said legs unintentionally impale their comrade.
"OCTO, YOU TEAM KILLING FRAGTARD!" The second flyer yelled to the first spider-con in an angry tone. Said spider was about to retract the legs when they were suddenly split by a red blur. He cried out in pain briefly only for an elbow to bash his face and knock him over, followed by a brief burning sensation across his neck. It took him a moment to realize, as his processor died out that he had just been decapitated.
"NO!" The second spider yelled in anger and pain as he looked at his brother's decapitated metal corpse. Fenrir knocked him out with a good punch.
"YOU SHOULD'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU TWO DECIDED TO BE UNION SOLDIERS!" Fenrir yelled at the unconscious mech in anger. Guilt and pain tore at his soul. He couldn't imagine dragging his own sibling into this. And yet... never mind that. The second flyer jumped at him, grappling onto his back like a mech.
"I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF, YOU OLD-" The second flyer said as the first flyer tried to join him before Fenrir grabbed his attacker's neck and ripped him off, slamming him onto the ground as the first flyer attacked him with an energon sword from his own hand. Fenrir dodged it, stepping on its chest.
"GET OFF OF ME!" He shouted before another swipe from the first flyer forced the lone wolf off of him for a brief moment, blocking the sword's strike with his axe. Fenrir parried each blow as the second flyer stood up and went over to his unconscious comrade to rouse him.
Fenrir then grabbed the sword's blade with his axe before trying to punch the flyer. Said flyer wrapped his arm around Fenrir's arm and head-butted him. Fenrir stumbled back in a daze, clutching his head as it throbbed with pain.
"DIE!" His attacker roared raising his blade. He turned, back-roundhouse kicking the attacker's arm followed by his back arm striking the attacker's head, forming a sort of dent before his left foot stomped onto the attacker forcing him onto the ground. Coming out of his daze, he raised his now-formed energon cannon at the other flyer as he tried to awaken his unconscious friend. His axe was at the flyer's neck. The sole able flyer looked up at the cannon in fear, his red optics widening as he stopped shaking him.
"That friend of yours forged his own fate," Fenrir said, jerking his axe to the corpse. His volume was lowered to emphasize a bit of diplomacy while also threatening of worse consequences. "Need I remind you: The Union started this shit in the first place." He reminded the fireteam. "You started all this." Fenrir spat the last sentence.
"You think losing a brother is bad? I lost my family at New York and my Dad died on Cybertron." The Pretender said, his voice almost cracking as he spoke. He glared at the flyer under his feet. The remaining flyer's eyes widened at this.
"You're lucky I have a code holding me back." Fenrir snarled. "Otherwise: every last Union city would be burnt to the fucking ground and your skulls would be in my cupboard." Fenrir told them in a very angry tone.
"YOU'RE GONNA' PAY FOR THIS IN BLOOD, YOU SON OF A-" The flyer threatened, only for the foot on his back to push him further and the axe's blade was at his neck.
"'Pay'?" Fenrir asked and then laughed in mockery. "One day, you bastards are going to 'pay' for what you all did in either blood or jail time. And when you realize the truth of what you did: I'm going to laugh as you realize you were tricked all along." Fenrir told him. "'til then, I'm saving you for another day." Fenrir said, lifting his foot off while his axe folded back into his wrist."Don't follow me... don't go past the Eighty-Eighth Line, you hear?" Fenrir threatened. "If you do: I'm going to make your lives the worst kind of hell that'll make Cybertron look like a bonfire." He continued, glaring at them all to make sure they got the point. By now, his first attacker rubber his back, gritting his metal teeth.
"Adios," He said, minimizing his form and then transformed back into his wolf-dog hybrid form. He ran off into the distance while he heard their leader yell after him. Something about 'not going to get away with this' or 'it's not over'... something like that.
XXX
Killjoy grunted in anger as Fenrir, the sole 'free' Transformer, ran away... after letting his enemies go. Didn't he ever hear of 'full measures'? Grumpy, old, prick! Bastard had been harassing the Union (and by extension: them) for decades. After the egghead in the Polity made his big discovery, the Union finally had their reason to go to war. Then, came several snags.
"THIS ISN'T OVER, YOU SACK OF SLAG!" He roared at the wolf as he tried to get up, only for him to groan. His internal diagnostics revealed that his sword-arm suffered damage. He initiated self-repair. He could go after him now, find out where the bastard lived and kill that mutt in his own den. But, for now, he had to grieve. He looked over to see Octo, his team member, now dead. His head on the ground, his face in shock. His brother was going to be righteously pissed at this. He sighed as his wounds healed. Skyhawk tried to awaken his comrade after freezing for a few minutes, realizing that he nearly died.
::Killjoy, report.:: His superior's voice said in Cybertronian. His voice crackled on a private channel.
::Fenrir was here, sir. He got away and kicked our afts.:: Killjoy reported with no small amount of shame and anger in his voice.
::YOU IDIOT! He's the Polity's only active defender right now! We just learned that six more have appeared behind Polity lines.:: Killjoy's arms dropped as did his jaw.
One: You don't say that slag on any private channel. You say that in person. That kid really needed to learn some more goddamn discipline for once!
Two: Holy slag. The Polity had Pretenders now?!
::We'll return to base now, sir. Be advised: we have one KIA: Octo:: He told his superior.
::Bastard always was a klutz.:: His superior muttered to himself. Killjoy's fists tightened as he did his best not to berate his superior on comms. Rumor had it that he was Tyrant's own biological son, if they were true. 'If'... 'If' was good. Sometimes.