So this chapter took me longer than it should have. Like all dialogue-heavy chapters, I struggled with it, especially since, quite honestly, I have been dreading it since the beginning of the story. But I have been just as excited, since this is officially the last update of Darkness of the Heart. Yes. This one. Right here.
Also, another big thanks for Rian Moeru's assistance with this chapter!
It was finally over.
That was the first calm, rational thought that filtered through Jack's hazy mind. The darkness rumbled in content, retreating back into an uneasy slumber. Releasing its hold on the boy.
Jack's high off of dark energon's power vanished. Energy drained from his muscles. His heated veins turned cold. Searing agony rippled across his body, turning his limbs into jelly. A mighty migraine appeared, feeling like someone was trying to split his skull apart. The army brat became aware of searing pain in his hand, fresh blood coating it. Unable to bear the onslaught of sensations, Jack crumbled to all fours with a moan. The teenager curled in on himself, burying his face in his arms, waiting for the misery to go away.
What… What was wrong with him? Jack's mind was like a dark, murky fog. Glimpses of memories flashed before his eyes. Silas… he had fought Silas. What happened? He just remembered being so angry. Just like when… he had killed Marcus.
The dark energon, Jack realized. I lost control again.
Did… did that mean… did he kill Silas?
Blinking, Jack forced himself to look up, only to be greeted with a mountain of rubble. It nearly took up the entire room, consisted of broken concrete, metal beams split in half, and shattered glass. Sprawled on top of it all was the body of a Transformer.
It looked frighteningly similar to Optimus Prime. It was the same size, the same shape. Its cannon and sword matched the Autobot leader's. Even its masked face looked identical. But instead of the Prime's bright, regal colors, the Transformer's plating consisted of dark metal. The said plating was ruined.
Deep dents and countless scratch marks marred its frame. Some pieces of armor barely clung on it, appearing as though it could fall off at any moment. Its sickly yellow optics flickered. A sickening mixture of oil and energon bled from its frame, oozing down the monument of debris to form sticky pools at its base.
Jack gulped at the sight. He had never seen the thing before, but something whispered in the back of his mind, Nemesis Prime.
So this was Silas's monster creation.
The product of Project Chimera.
MECH had vivisected Breakdown and they almost did the same to Arcee. Maybe even other Cybertronians fell victim to their madness. Just to learn their biology. They had kidnapped Jack and tortured him. Just to gain power. All the molestation, all the experimentation, all the suffering—it was for this abomination.
And it had killed Silas.
Jack could still hear the echoes of the man's scream when the contraption had fallen through the roof. It crushed Silas alive. And it had missed the teenager by inches.
In another other situation, Jack would have laughed at the irony. Silas had sought to build the ultimate weapon. But he had only succeeded in creating a Frankenstein.
But… Silas had deserved it, hadn't he? For what he did to Jack. What he did to both the Autobots and the Decepticons. For all the lives he had ruined. And he would have never stopped. He would destroy the whole world, just to get what he wanted.
"Jack…"
The deep rumble reverberated across the chamber, rattling Jack's chest. He felt a familiar presence brushing against his mind. Blinking, the army brat forced his head up. Only to find that the ceiling had been replaced with a gigantic hole. Megatron was perched on the edge, lowered in a crouch with his claws wrapped around the remainder of the roof to steady him. Dents and scrapes ruined his armor and dark energon bled from cuts across his protoform. His optics were a deep purple, but they did not glow at the same frightening intensity as Silas. For some reason, the Decepticon leader was a welcoming sight.
Suddenly there was a distant rumble, but it was different from thunder. Like something was chopping at the air. Then Jack realized what it was.
A helicopter.
Megatron heard it, too. He turned to look over his shoulder, optics narrowing. With a scowl, he shifted his attention back to Jack.
"Come. We are leaving," he announced, reaching down with an open servo.
The teenager felt a sense of urgency trickle over the blood-bond. It wasn't panic, but it was clear Megatron didn't want to stay longer than he had to.
Agony radiated across the army brat's body as he lifted himself to all fours. His limbs shook terribly, threatening to collapse underneath him. Jack could only groan miserably. Megatron used the blood-bond to push the pain away, sending murmurs of encouragement. It was enough to get the human to his feet, but he swayed and stumbled like a drunk hit by a bus.
The roar of whirling blades grew steadily louder as he climbed over the pile of rubble until it became a persistent buzz in his ears. It was then Jack realized it was not one helicopter, but several. But who did they belong to? MECH? Or the military? Were they American or Ukrainian? Jack remembered Fowler had said something about reinforcements. Before… before something happened… Where was the man? Was he hurt?
The migraine intensified behind his eyes. The teenager groaned as he gripped his head, waiting until the vicious attack subsided. When he looked back up, Megatron's offered servo seemed leagues away. But the warlord patiently waited, beckoning him. Like a master calling a dog.
Without his permission, Airachnid's words echoed in Jack's ears, "You make the perfect pet."
He stopped. Was… was that all Megatron saw him as?
"No."
Megatron blinked. "What?"
"I'm not going with you."
Jack sealed the words by backing away from the tyrant, even if his movements were awkward. His trembling legs stumbled over broken pieces of concrete. Megatron widened his optics at the sudden action. But his surprise quickly morphed into anger.
"Don't be foolish, boy," he growled in exasperation. "Come here."
The teenager gritted his teeth as the darkness pressed against him, trying to smother his rebellious thoughts. His legs moved against his will.
But Jack wouldn't allow it. He reached out, taking hold of a metal rod sticking out of the debris. Jack tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white, keeping himself in place. All the while, he pushed back against the dominant presence. No, he wouldn't bend to Megatron's will anymore.
"What am I to you?" Jack demanded in a croak.
"You are mine," Megatron answered.
Possessiveness dripped from the warlord's words. He spoke as if Jack was merely a thing. An object for the warmonger to own. Not even a person.
The teen ground his teeth together so hard he thought they were going to crack. The feeling was insignificant to the storm of darkness trying to claw into his mind, and that did not even compare to the hurt that filled Jack's chest.
He could hear Airachnid's ghost, whispering in his ear, "He lied to you, Jack."
Everything that had happened between them. When Megatron invaded his mind, and witnessed his most intimate memories. When Megatron came to him after the Autobots abandoned him, and banishing his loneliness during the long, summer nights. When Megatron had saved the boy from the cold, cruel clutches of MECH and took care of him.
Care.
For just a moment, Jack truly thought that Megatron cared for him.
"Do you think he values you?" Airachnid's phantom snickered.
No…
Jack was no one special. He was merely a lowly human. Megatron had not chosen him. The boy was just another toy to play with.
Jack's voice came out harsh and low, trying to keep the rising emotions at bay, as he grounded out, "Everything you ever told me was a lie."
"What nonsense is this?" Megatron growled, his optics furrowing even as his growl grew increasingly severe. "Enough of this, Jack. Come to me"
The order was punctuated with unyielding authority of a ruler, cascading over the blood-bond threatening to overwhelm his psyche. Jack could only hiss as he pushed back against the brutal assault. It felt like a monster truck crashing into his brain, sending a fresh wave of agony all along his body. Stars danced along Jack's vision.
But he refused to move.
He refused to be some pet.
"I won't! I won't be your pawn!" Jack growled out. He forced himself to glance up, violet eyes meeting violet optics. "You don't control. Not anymore."
With as much willpower he could muster, Jack shoved the torrent of darkness back across the blood-bond and into Megatron's twisted mind. Before the Cybertronian could counterattack, the human formed a mental wall, sealing him out of his mind.
Megatron's look turned violent. His gaze burned with dark, furious fire. His armor bristled and his hackles rose, as if he was prepared to descend upon the insolent teen. Only to be interrupted.
Megatron flinched and instinctively raised his claws as three helicopters roared overhead. They were unmarked, making it impossible for Jack to determine their allegiance, except for the array of missiles attached to them. For whatever reason, they didn't open fire upon Megatron. Instead, they began to circle around the iron giant like a flock of vultures.
The Decepticon leader only snarled at them until the helicopters slipped out of Jack's view. But judging how their combined noise continued to echo across the ruined chamber, they were still hovering above. Waiting for the order to descend upon their prey.
Megatron must have known, quickly turned his attention back to Jack, his scarred face contorted into a vicious scowl.
"You belong to me," the Decepticon warlord growled with utmost certainty. Like it was a law that could not be denied. "And I will make sure to remind you of that."
At that, Megatron jumped into the air. Metal shifted violently in an angry sound of transformation as he changed into a sinister Cybertronian jet. No longer cautious about human health, he took to the skies in an explosion of sound. Jack couldn't help but wince as the shockwave assaulted his eardrums.
It was enough to send the poor boy to crumbling to the ground.
He fell onto the sharp slaps of concrete—too tired, too weak to stop his fall. The rock sliced into his skin, but he couldn't find the will to care. There wasn't a single part of his body that didn't radiate with excruciating pain, reaching deep into his core. His heart hurt most of all. Jack couldn't even bear to think, let alone move.
Not even the hovering shadows of the helicopters could stir him. Maybe it wasn't military reinforcements, but rather MECH operatives coming to avenge their fallen leader. Let them. At least then, Jack wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
No one would hurt him or his family ever again—
It was then a horrible, bloody image flashed across Jack's eyes.
Mom.
In a torrent of memories, Jack remembered the bang of a gunshot. He remembered his mother's pained gaze and her ghostly pale skin, as crimson blood seeped from her mortal wound. He remembered her fighting to breathe, until…
A long, broken keen escaped Jack's lips. Tears welled up in his eyes.
His mother was gone.
The only family he had left.
She was gone.
He hadn't been able to save her. He hadn't been able to save anyone. Jack curled into a fetal position, bringing his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around his torso in a sense of false comfort. It did nothing to soothe his violent trembling. Broken sobs tore from his throat, muffled by his face half-buried in the rubble below him.
This was all his fault. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for him. If he hadn't fallen for Silas's trap. If he didn't try to play hero. If he didn't save Megatron.
Jack was ripped from his morbid thoughts when suddenly a large hand seized his shoulder.
The teenager started with a choked cry. He knew who it was without looking. Some MECH agent, coming to kill him. Jack braced for the end to come.
"Jack?"
"…F-Fowler?"
Slowly, painfully, Jack lifted his head, only greeted with the sight of the government agent leaning over him. The man's lips tugged in a frown when he noticed the boy's puffy, red eyes and his face stained with tears. Fowler glanced between Jack and the destroyed Transformer. His frown deepened with a squint of his eyes. Apparently the man put two and two together.
"Let's get you out of here, son," Fowler murmured gently.
Jack didn't even have the energy to retort. He didn't even react when the agent shifted his hold on the boy to hoist him to his feet. What did it matter anymore?
"She's dead, isn't she?" Jack croaked. "My mom?"
"Jack—"
Fowler simply spoke his name, but the army brat could hear the hesitance, the uncertainty behind it. It was all he needed to confirm the truth.
His mother was dead. He didn't have a home anymore. Not without her.
"It's all my fault," Jack sobbed, his shoulders quivering horribly. His voice grew louder and louder, each word filled with his agony. "This is all my fault! She needed me and I couldn't save her! I couldn't do anything!"
Fowler didn't allow him to let out a proper wail, interrupting, "She's alive, Jack."
The simple words made the teenager freeze, the next cry stuck in his throat. He stared up at the man for a full three seconds, but all he could read was a strange sense of pity. Then Jack realized what Fowler was doing.
"You're lying," the army brat accused.
"Why would I do that?"
To get the traumatized to cooperate, for one. June was shot in the stomach. A deep, fatal wound. Jack saw her die.
"I don't believe you."
"The medics are tending to her now. She's in critical condition, but they think she'll make it." When Jack just stared, Fowler snapped, "Look, we can mope here all day, or I can show you."
Jack wanted to remain skeptical. After all that happened to him, after all the deception, he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone. But… but if there was a chance…
"I-I have to see her. Please?"
He ended with a desperate plea, not aware how his voice cracked. Fowler's head fell into a nod. The man gingerly readjusted his hold on Jack, pulling him to his feet. It was a struggle, to say the least. Jack gritted his teeth as he forced his stiff legs to move underneath him. His knees shook, threatening to collapse.
But Fowler kept him upright by hooking his arm over a broad shoulders and wrapping a hand around the boy's waist. Jack found himself leaning heavily on Fowler, straining just to keep his head up. The man said nothing, merely guiding Jack over the remains of the reactor chamber.
Although Jack wanted nothing to do more than to rush ahead as fast he could, he was restrained to a slow, hobbling pace. The building went by in a blur, like before. Except then. the teenager vaguely remembered racing down the halls, powered by rage and dark energon.
The corridors were still eerily empty, only filled by the roar of the helicopters. They were so loud at this point, it sounded like they beating against the walls of the building. Jack thought he could hear distant shouts, but he couldn't make them out. Was the military? MECH? Or both?
"Silas's men… they're still here," the teenager warned. It was getting hard to form words at this point.
"Don't worry, they're gone," Fowler reassured. "All of them."
Jack could only close his eyes in a moment of relief. MECH was no more. The nightmare had finally come to an end.
The touch of warm sunlight on his face brought Jack out of his stupor. He opened his eyes to find they had made it outside, and Chernobyl had completely transformed from the last time he saw it.
It was alive and filled with noise. Helicopters descended from the skies, forming mini-hurricanes of dust and snow. A couple had already touched down, their blades still moving in slow rotations. American soldiers dressed in camouflage and full combat gear were spread out across the plaza. Some had their rifles against their shoulders, scanning the surrounding area for any potential threat.
But that was not what caught Jack's attention. He noticed sitting in one of the ground helicopters were Miko and Raf. The pair were wrapped in thick army-green blankets, huddling next to each other for warmth and comfort. They looked pale and the life was drained from their eyes. No doubt they were traumatized, from being kidnapped to almost killed to witnessing a massacre. And…
Jack remembered how they had stared at him with terror. His best friends. They were afraid of him.
What have I done?
As he limped closer, it was Raf that noticed him first. The young boy called out his name, but Jack didn't have the strength to reply. He couldn't even look meet Raf in the eye. Instead, he looked over to a pair of medics crouched near the helicopter, both rapidly, frantically working over a limp figure on a stretcher.
"Mom!"
Jack tried to lunge forward, which only resulted in him almost tumbling out of Fowler's grip. The man managed to reaffirmed his hold before the teenager faceplanted onto the frozen asphalt.
"Whoa, now," Fowler cooed, but he seemed to understand Jack's urgency. He quickened his pace, though he was mindful of the frail boy in his arms.
But as they moved closer, panic began to well in Jack's chest. June didn't reply to his shout. She was deathly still and her eyes were shut, despite the commotion around her. Her skin was as white as the snow around her and her clothes were soiled in crimson blood. The sight was enough to send bile up the boy's throat.
Was he too late? Was she already gone—
Jack tore himself from Fowler—half-falling, half-crawling over to his mother's side. He practically shoved one of the medics out of the way. The corpsman only gave a huff of surprise. He was too focused on trying to suture June's wound to properly scold the teenager. Jack didn't care.
He took a shaking hand to his mother's face, gently cupping her cheek. He could keep the whimper from his voice as he spoke, "Mom? Mom, I'm here. Please… please wake up."
When he received no reply, Jack began to fear the worst. That was until a strained, pain-filled wheeze escaped Mom's chapped lips. Ocean-blue eyes, identical to his own, cracked open.
"...Jack?"
Her voice was terrible weak and frail, barely above a whisper.
"It's me, Mom," Jack assured, taking her hand as hot tears flowed down his cheeks.
"'R… yoo… 'kay…?"
The boy tried hard not to sob. June was on the verge of death, but the mother's only concern was her son.
Jack nodded as he assured, "I'm fine. Everything's going to be alright now."
The teenager wasn't sure if he was telling that to the woman or himself. But it seemed to be enough to satisfy Mom. She gave a slight smile and her dull eyes brightened, just for a moment.
Jack could only swallow the lump in his throat, squeezing her hand even tighter as he held it between his. He pressed her cold fingers against his sweaty brow, hardly registering he was openly crying now. He didn't care how many eyes were on him, how many could see his tears.
He only cared about his mother.
"I'm never leaving you again."
Galloway was furious.
He glared at the report in his hands, wondering what lunatic what conjured up such nonsense. Maybe someone had gone so far to play a prank on him. But Galloway realized it couldn't be fake. No one could make this shit up.
MECH had a stronghold in Ukraine. In Chernobyl, of all places.
The security advisor's first instinct was to hold the Ukrainian government responsible for harboring American fugitives and sponsoring a terrorist organization. But that would not do. It would cause an international incident, and revert the countries' relationship back to what it was during the Cold War. Then the American government would actually have to recognize MECH as a threat to national security.
The military already had its hands full as it was, and the last thing Galloway was for such a thing to be leaked to the press. There would be pandemonium. No, it was best to keep the Ukranian government out of it as much as possible. They may have a few questions, why there were American soldiers in their country, but Galloway would leave that to the politicians. He was concerned with a much bigger problem.
MECH had created their own Transformer.
A moving, thinking robot of mass destruction.
Galloway didn't know how such a thing was possible, but he honestly didn't care. If a bunch of disgruntled, militia hillbillies managed to build it in their backyard, that meant anyone could do it. Anyone that could be an enemy of the United States.
Meanwhile, they had nothing.
The Autobots had refused to share their technology. They refused to provide any weaponry. They refused to provide the United States anything to protect itself.
And it seemed that the Decepticons did not have the same policies.
Galloway glazed over the report telling of a silver, iron giant in the midst of the chaos. It matched the description of NBE-1. Megalodon, or something. Was he working with MECH? It certainly explained how they managed to replicate alien technology. The security advisor remembered that Agent Fowler told that the Decepticons would never cooperate with humans. Well, Galloway had solid evidence to the contrary.
And if the Deceptcions were willing to trade with a low-grade, radical group, perhaps they were more approachable than intelligence previously believed. The man wasn't a fool. He knew it was a significant risk. The alien invaders were considered a threat. But it wasn't something that happened been done before.
Did Roosevelt want to work with Stalin? Did Nixon want to visit North Korea? People did what they didn't like, in order to do what was right. Galloway's hands start to shake just at the idea that he could be the next big name in history.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a piercing ring. An incoming video call. This was it.
Galloway quickly cleared his desk and straightened his suit, gulping. His palms were sweaty and he unconsciously whipped them on his trousers. His heart raced in his chest and there were butterflies in his stomach. However, the security advisor managed put on a professional mask and answered the call.
The monitor posted on his wall flickered to life.
And it was filled with a menacing face.
NBE-1 looked exactly like all the pictures and videos Galloway had seen: a broad helm framed with razor-sharp armor, scars marring his silver face, bright crimson eyes, and fang-like teeth. Only the robot's upper body could be seen, but the security advisory determined that the 20-inch monitor did the titan's true size no justice.
It took Galloway a moment to remember the proper sequence of strange syllables as he greeted, "Lord Megatron, is it?"
"Correct," the Decepticon leader replied. Despite his deep, gravelly voice, his voice was calm and polite. His glowing red eyes squinted slightly as he tilted his helm. "I apologize—I do not recognize you. I understood there was another human that acted as an ambassador. A William Fowler?"
The security advisor tried not to cringe at the name. Yes, the man was the liaison between the government and the Autobots, but he proved more than once he was incompetent. Such as when he got himself captured by the Decepticons. It explained how this alien knew of him.
Galloway quickly educated, "Agent William Fowler has been relieved of his duties. My name is Theodore Galloway. I am the National Security Advisor to the President."
NBE-1—no, Megatron, as he was apparently called—nodded slowly, processing the information. "You speak on behalf of your… leader?"
It seemed the movies never failed to depict the aliens.
"Yes. Everything I discuss here is on his behalf."
"So if I offered terms of a treaty, you will be able to provide them?"
"I'm your man."
The metal being smiled, showing his fangs. With his wicked appearance, it almost looked malicious, but Galloway was able to translate that the alien was pleased.
"Then tell me, what do you want from ua?" the security advisor questioned.
"Nothing. The Decepticons mean no harm to humanity."
"Then how do you explain this?"
Galloway tapped on the keyboard in front of him. In the corner of the screen, which he knew Megatron could see, too, a video played. The security advisor didn't even have to look at it to know what it showed.
It was the only surviving footage from a security camera, mounted above a military base nestled the desert of Qatar. The camera was angled towards a landing pad, occupied by a large helicopter. Its blades were still slowing spinning, powering off its engines even as it was surrounded by an army of soldiers. They had their weapons trained on the interloper, braced to face whatever threat it unveiled. Still, it was obvious none of them expected for the helicopter to transform into a two-legged monster.
The video was filled with mayhem as tanks and rifles and whole arsenal of U.S. military was unleashed onto the iron giant. Yet it did nothing to stop the robot's relentless attack, sending rockets and EMP blasts in every direction. It was a nauseating display of flashing lights, interrupted by a fiery explosion. Then the screen went black.
There was no need for explanation, but Galloway narrated anyway, "This was an attack by one of your people, a Decepticon, on a United States Forward Operations base. Three hundred soldiers died that night."
"A tragedy, to both of our kinds. As I was… incapacitated at the time," Megatron replied, pausing as he tried to find the word. English must have been a hard language for the alien being. "I cannot answer for the actions of my followers. But as their leader, I will say their actions were premature and they have been punished accordingly by our laws."
"And how do you explain the two hundred and fifty lives that were lost since then?"
Galloway scrutinized Megatron's expression, but it was hard to read his metal face, as he drawled, "I admit. War brings out the worse in me. But is not the same for all of us?"
Well, he wasn't lying. A few eggs needed to be broken in order to make an omelet.
So the liasion replied with his own question, "Even the Autobots?"
"Especially the Autobots."
"Well, according to them, it was the Decepticons' numerous assaults that forced them to evacuate their homeworld and come to Earth."
"What? That is what they told you?" Megatron recoiled, eyes flickering back and forth as if he was possibly trying to process what Galloway had said. "It is no wonder, you humans understand so little. I knew Optimus Prime was capable of lies, but never have I witnessed such a profound act of deceit!"
"Deceit?" the human echoed, squinting his eyes in confusion, even as his heart twisted in his chest. Was he right all along? Were the Autobots playing all of them?
His fears seemed to be confirmed as Megatron went on, "The Decepticons were not the ones that instigated the war, but rather the Autobots."
That was certainly different than what Optimus Prime told.
"Explain," Galloway pressed.
"On Cybertron, we were ruled by Sentinel Zeta Prime, a cruel and unjust tyrant. He only claimed the title to sate his lust for power. He cut down anyone that opposed him. Even his own people, whom he sworn to protect." Anger filled in Megatron's voice as he spoke, coming out as a harsh, dangerous growl. For some reason, his eyes became brighter and he curled his lips back in a snarl. "When Optimus Prime took his place, I had hoped things would be different. But I was proven wrong. He and his High Council ruled with a dictatorial regime. When I petitioned the harsh treatment of the lower castes, I was exiled. I lead my loyal disciples here, to Earth, in search of a new home. Although, that not enough to satisfy Optimus. He sent his forces in pursuit, seeking to destroy us. He murdered my second-in-command, Starscream, and tortured my dear Airachnid."
Galloway's eyes became wider and wider as Megatron went on with the story. He never heard of any of this. Certainly not this "Zeta" fellow, or the fact that it was the Decepticons were exiled. The man slowly began to put the pieces together, wanting to slap himself when the picture became perfectly clear.
According to his official timeline, was the Decepticons that came to Earth first. But it wasn't until the Autobots arrived that things got chaotic. Cities left in shambles, entire military facilities destroyed, and innocent lives lost. Could it be true? Were the Autobots the enemy? Was Optimus Prime just using the humans merely as a shield, weakening them until he found the moment to strike? It certainly explained the Autobot leader's cold, elusive nature.
Almost like Megatron could read Galloway's mind, he said, "Optimus Prime has been manipulating you. Your army is just another weapon for him to use. Once he makes use of you, he depose of you. I especially fear for the children in his possession."
Galloway, who was on the verge of a panic attack, stiffened at the mention of a single word. Children. Was he talking about those three brats?
"They have been removed from the Autobots' custody," the security advisor spoke quickly.
"I am afraid it will not be so easy."
"What do you mean?"
"Prime is quite obsessive," Megatron drawled. "Once he wants something, he will stop at nothing until it is his. I have seen he has already influenced the eldest child, Jackson Darby."
Darby? As in Staff Sergeant Johnathan Darby? Or General David Darby? Galloway squinted in thought, trying to match the name with one of the teenagers. The eldest one. Did he mean the one with the attitude? The man still remembered the boy's hateful gaze when Galloway kicked off him the base—twice. The liason still couldn't figure out how Darby got to Diego Garcia the second time.
Did Optimus Prime have something to do with it? Just how much had been kept from him? Even this alien knew more than him! Galloway demanded answers.
"How so?" he questioned.
"He uses the boy as a pet, if you will," Megatron explained. "The Autobots send him on missions they are too incompetent to do on their own. It is why they recruited him on their assault on Paris, and even sent him to negotiate with human rebels of their behalf."
"Wait, you mean MECH?" Galloway gasped.
He wanted to deny such an absurd idea. Who would send a child to negotiate with terrorists? Then the man remembered. The reports mentioned MECH was in possession four civilian hostages. The special operations team was able to recover them and sent them to the closest hospital, as one was in critical condition. But there was no description. No names. As if someone had purposefully left that out. Could it… could it have been the Autobots' brats?
When Megatron only nodded to his exclamation, Galloway demanded, "Then what were you doing there?"
"To stop any sort of agreement from happening," the Decepticon leader replied. "I barely manage to defeat the abomination they created, before they could turn it against you, like the Autobots did with young Jackson."
Eying the metal being more closely, the security advisor noticed that there were deep dents and scratches across his silver hide. It looked like he just stepped out of a meat grinder. Still, it didn't distract Galloway from Megatron's latter sentence.
"What are you talking about?"
It was then Megatron tilted his helm again and one of his metal eyebrows rose, almost sounding puzzled as he hummed, "You do not know?"
"Know what?"
What else was there? Galloway's sheer panic was quickly morphing into anger. How many lies did the Autobots feed him? How many secrets were they keeping from him? Negotiating with a rogue militia group? Using teenagers as weapons?
While Galloway's mind was spinning, Megatron fiddled with something offscreen, explaining, "I have my own display to show you, Theodore Galloway. My chief of intelligence, Soundwave, managed to claim this from the Autobots' files." Looking up, the alien added, "After they stole it from your military headquarters."
Before Galloway could ask, suddenly Megatron's face disappeared, replaced by a different image. It was obviously security footage, taken from a hallway of some building. It took the government official only a moment to recognize it.
My God, that's the Pentagon!
He watched in disbelief as a very familiar figure stepped into view. Darby.
The teenager moved like a predator, moving in slow careful movements, talking close to the ground. He eyed his surroundings, as if waiting for anyone to challenge him. There was some odd device in his hand, but Galloway couldn't tell what it was. His jaw clenched in rage. He knew the boy was always trouble! Already the security advisor could name almost half a dozen laws Darby was breaking.
"The Autobots sent him to hack into your military network, in order to obtain intelligence against you," Megatron narrated. "They went so far to use stolen Decepticon technology, solely to blame us for the attack."
And that's exactly what Galloway had been told. That the Decepticons got into their system, but they didn't know how. Well, now he learned it wasn't the Decepticons at all. The United States government were played by a treacherous teenager. Oh, Galloway couldn't wait until he got his hands on that little pest. He would make sure Darby would feel the full force of the federal justice system come crashing down on him.
"Don't worry, we'll make sure it doesn't happen again," Galloway vowed. "Darby will answer for his crimes."
"Though I admire your determination, not even your system can sufficiently keep Jackson from Optimus's clutches," Megatron retorted. "The Autobots still come for him, again and again. And if their leader is anything like his predecessor, he will destroy anything that stands in his way."
"Then what do you suggest?"
It was then Megatron's lips curled into that almost disturbing smile. "That the Decepticons take Jackson Darby into our custody."
Galloway only frowned at the idea. He thought the whole point was to get the teenagers away from the vicious aliens. Putting them in the Autobots' care proved disastrous. But the Decepticons, who only a matter of minutes ago, were considered an enemy? Despite his current anger, Galloway wasn't about to be so trusting. They haven't discussed an accord yet!
"You want me to give you an American civilian, just like that?" the liaison growled.
"In best interest for the boy," Megatron argued. "And consider it… an extension of good faith."
"And for that to happen, we're going to be a gesture of good will from you, too."
"An understandable request. And what do you desire from us?"
"Weapons," Galloway replied instantly. "If this turns into a fight against the Autobots, us humans will need to defend ourselves. Share you technology with us, and we can consider an alliance."
Megatron curled his lip at that. "Explain to me why I should. It is my understanding you still possess Decepticon technology. Including one of my… assets."
The government official gulped. He knew what the Decepticon leader was talking about.
"…That is true," Galloway admitted lowly, reluctantly.
"Then how we come to a compromise, hmm? Give us the boy and we shall offer him protection. No harm shall come to him, you have my word, as leader of the Decepticons." Megatron curled his fist over his chest in a slight bow. "And return what has been… taken from us, then I will show you the true range of our might."
Galloway's heart was pounding in his chest. Finally… finally this was it! He had done what no human had ever done before! If he chose his words carefully, if he played his cards right, he could end the entire war. No more bloodshed would have to be spilled. No more American lives would be lost. No one more have to mourn a loved one again.
Megatron had given his price, and now the security advisor only had to determine if it could be paid. He had to surrender all of the Decepticon technology owned by the U.S. government. Galloway didn't want to disappoint him, but the vast majority of the materials seized from Sector Seven had been disposed of, or given to the Autobots. Whatever remained no longer had any practical value.
The asset, on the other hand... Galloway was reluctant hand it over, especially after all the trouble it took to get it in the first place. But it yet to prove any worth. If was more of a headache, than anything.
Then there was Jackson Darby. A teenaged, high school student. The son of a respected commander. An American civilian. Galloway desperately wanted to keep any more human lives from getting involved. He much rather deal with the meddling twerp himself. But what was one life, compared to several billions?
Galloway was prepared to make sacrifices, if that was what it took to save his country. To save the entire world. He had to make sure. He had to make this work.
"If I agree," the liaison drawled, eyes narrowing at the titan, "do you promise to leave mankind alone?"
"Oh, our quarrel has never been with you." Megatron's eyes burned brightly. His lips spread in a wide, shark-like grin. "We only wish to co-exist with the human race… peacefully. Together, dear Galloway, I believe that you and I can make that dream a reality."
Wait, I lied. There's more!