Dishonor

Chapter Two

Starscream couldn't think. The image was seared into his memory, and a dark rage he'd never known he possessed threatened to overwhelm him. Everyone else in the control room was stunned into total silence, so quiet that he could hear the gentle hum of the power nodes that studded the walls. Desperately attempting to reassert some control over himself, Starscream said as calmly as he could manage, "Corporal, I want you contact High Command on the surface immediately, we need a sit-rep. Jetfire, upgrade the threat level from Level 5 to Level 2. Move it!"

With the horrifying silence shattered by their commander issuing orders in a firm tone that showed he was still in charge, everyone started returning to normal. Many shook their heads as if recovering from a daze. After he was sure that his presence was no longer necessary, the Seeker slipped away from the Control Center to make his way deeper into the installation. He had to make sure it was secure. If they could pull of something like that in the middle of Iacon, then nowhere was safe. Alarms began to screech and soldiers jogged in orderly fashion to the armory to receive weapons before reporting to the outer defenses to bring everything up to maximum readiness.

Through corridors, down elevators, and increasingly heavy security measures, Starscream finally arrived. In the center of a small chamber deep in the heart of Aurretium, delicately suspended by antigravity in a macrosteel container, was a shard of malevolently glowing Dark Energon. Violet rays shed by the gently rotating crystal caused Starscream to be uncomfortable. It was like a splinter digging into his skin that he couldn't remove or ignore that constantly put him on edge.

"Thank the Primes that's still here," said a shaken voice from behind him. Starting slightly, Starscream still grinned despite himself. Only a handful of personnel had access to this place and it wasn't hard to recognize who had followed him down. "Whoever attacked the Senate will be coming for this, I bet."

"Heh…Nobody besides us knows this still exists. The Old Senate was smart enough to make this thing disappear from the records and tell everybody it had vanished from the face of [the Earth]." After all, why would anyone look for something didn't exist anymore? Coming up beside him, Jetfire shuddered.

Starscream felt a little guilty for mocking the Senators after what had just happened, but he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He couldn't think about that right now. He'd lose the thin grip on sanity he already he'd managed to keep after watching the Gamma Complex erupt. It threatened to push him into a dark place he'd never known before and that frightened him. "That toxic scrap would poison Cybertron. It would feed on it for a while, just like a parasite, before it takes too much and kills her."

They'd been told by the small group of scientists who maintained the special containment unit that the light it generated it was harmless. It still had the effect of breeding discomfort in all those exposed to the Dark Energon. Something about it just seemed…evil.

Jetfire grimaced and said, "We weren't able to raise Command. Static tried all the open and encrypted channels we know, but it's a dead zone down there."

"What?" Cybertron's military, as corrupt and dilapidated as it was, still had some muscles to flex. The Praetorian Guard were the elite, and virtually the only effective fighting force that was still in service and loyal to the Senate. Their main base in Iacon's outer districts also served as the headquarters for the High Command. "Primus… if the Praetorians get wiped out, the Senate is finished."

Jetfire nodded, his face grim. "With the High Command sitting pretty with those glory boys, they'd be a target too tempting to pass up."

"Scrap it. We need to know if we can count on them or not, Jet. Without them we'll be on our own up here."

Though he looked unhappy about it, Jetfire agreed with him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he said, "Nobody knows we're here, and the people who do are probably dead by now. But you're right, we need to do whatever we can to keep this," he gestured at the Dark Energon shard, "here. That, and you have other business down there." At that, Starscream looked away.

"Trust me, no one will think you're abandoning us. Now get a move on."

Doubtful though he'd been, Starscream smiled in thanks. "Alright. I'll be back as soon I can. We'll have a proper briefing when I return."

. . . . . .

For a very long time Starscream hadn't really cared about what kind of life he was destined for. He'd loathed poetry, had liked science but was only a mediocre scientist, and had been incredibly bitter until he discovered his alternate mode. Of all the bots who'd ever lived, he wasn't sure any of them had loved to fly as much as he did.

His lithe, nimble fighter had been gifted with such speed that he'd nearly plastered himself on the side of a cargo freighter leaving port as he shot through the sky his first time. Veras had been a small city, only a few hundred kilometers distant from its sister city of Iacon, with structures so tall they pierced the skies. These imposing sentinels shone brightly in the starlight, casting a warm glow on those who entered its bustling streets. Weaving between the tightly packed urban sprawl had been something that always got his spark beating faster as he became increasingly adept at maneuvering through tight corners and narrow spaces.

Shaking his head to break free of his reverie, Starscream forced himself to ignore his growing fear. Even though he'd only just entered the upper atmosphere he could already see the massive column of smoke from the detonation that had ravaged the Gamma Complex to leave a mortal wound in the heart of Cybertron's capital.

He'd told the fool not to go. Starscream thought it would be a waste of time, but before today he'd never thought anyone would do something as senselessly evil as what he'd seen. It had looked like it was going to be another publicity stunt that the Senators would spin to everyone else as proof that they were still actively engaged with solving the problems that faced them. Despite his low opinion of them, Starscream didn't think they deserved to be murdered. Prison, definitely. But this? That was a monster's way of changing the world.

Friction had built up along his wing tips, flames trailing behind him as he came within sight of the city. Suddenly, he picked up a spotty signal that he recognized as a military broadcast and tapped into it. A garbled voice spoke hurriedly, with a clamor washing out some of the words. "—May-day, may-day, we are under attack. Repeat, High Command is under att *—* Terrorists are *—* and well-armed. All available units please respond to this hail immediately…"

Starscream felt his heart harden. Pushing his turbines to their limit, he felt the darkness within him give voice to what he'd been feeling ever since that moment when he saw that blossom of light consume the one thing he cared about most in this world. My brother is dead. I will have my vengeance on his killers, even if I have to kill them all myself. While he tried to push it away, Starscream prayed he wasn't too late.

. . . . . .

On previous occasions when he'd been forced to visit the bastion of Cybertron's highest military authority, it always struck him as a decadent and uninspiring. Tall alabaster courtyards whose walls were chased with gold and platinum that bore grandiose murals of past glories. Drab walls of ferrocrete and steel surrounded these pretty little gardens, studded with bunkers and large towers that had fearsome turrets that would make any sort of assault a bloody business. That is, if anyone were manning them. All of them were conspicuously silent as the Seeker approached the outer boundary.

Now, all of it was burning. Great swathes of flame covered parts of the fortress, and a pall of black smoke hung over the grounds as bolts of energy crisscrossed with tracers from machine gun emplacements. Missiles rained down from the sky, and tanks tried to force their way through the sprawling courtyards, while in the middle of this hell were the remnants of the Praetorian Guard. Further behind the open areas lay a series of structures that nestled together in clusters, where the barracks and administrative offices lay.

Though they were largely holding firm in the face of this great assault, Starscream could see that one group of the enemy had penetrated all the way into the administrative complex. Picking up a local transmission, Starscream heard, "Delta-Four is under heavy fire! We are pinned down in the Atrium, we need immediate assistance! Where the hell is that air support?" Gunfire could be heard punctuating each sentence as the beleaguered Guardsmen tried to hold their position. "Alpha platoon was wiped out, and we need reinforcements and some medics or the rest of us are gonna follow suit real soon. Command, do we retreat or hold position? Command, please respond!"

Starscream clenched his teeth. As he'd closed in on the battle, monitoring the frequencies used by the Praetorians had yielded only static, and this lack of coordination confirmed his worst fears. Even the best soldiers were much less effective in battle if they weren't directed competently, and make them easy to pick off one by one against an enemy who had greater numbers. Without their officers to keep an eye on the battle around them, they were all just [sitting ducks]. It seemed that the generals and every other ranking Praetorian had left the others to their fate.

Hacking into the battle-net, what he saw wasn't good. The sensors, combined with the real-time information being fed into the network by the Guardsmen themselves, revealed how dire the situation had actually become. Gliding close to the ground to a sector heavily obscured by flames and smoke, Starscream made his landing and saw that he was close to the south-western corner of the complex. Other units were scattered throughout the entire facility as the right wing collapsed, while most in the center and the left flank appeared to be holding despite the tremendous pressure.

They were slowly being split up and isolated by the terrorist troops, and the Seeker cursed the bastards who'd left their men to die. Using debris as cover, he came close the Atrium without being spotted. Only a few hundred meters away he noted another squad hastily attempting to fortify the post they occupied with whatever they could find. Barking into their frequency, he said, "Echo Squad, what the scrap do you think you're doing?" That ought to get their attention.

Silence filled the link for several nanocycles. He got an answer as someone snarled, "Who is this? This is an encrypted milit—"

"I know, damn it! This is Commander Starscream and I'm assuming command of this operation and any Praetorians who're still functional. Is that understood?" He compressed his digital credentials and sent them to verify his identity.

A pause. Then, "Yes sir. To answer your question, sir, we're getting ready for the next attack."

"You don't need to worry about holding that position anymore. What's more important is that you flank the bots that have Delta pinned three hundred meters to the West of you. How many you got?"

"Seventeen, sir. Three of them wounded, and the rest are no longer with us." Starscream grimaced. He shared that bitterness he felt in the bot's calm report.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Sergeant Stormclaw, sir."

"We need to regroup with as many of the other Praetorians as we can, and try to establish some momentum and drive these scrap heaps out. There are other squads cut off in the vicinity that need our help." Waiting a sparkbeat for the message to sink in, he asked, "Do you know whose attacking this facility?"

"Not yet, sir. We'll be moving out in five [mikes]. Would you mind telling me what small miracle conjured you up? Showin' up out of the blue was mighty kind of ya." The message was polite but clear: Echo Squad would be staying put until he answered to Stormclaw's satisfaction.

Starscream was glad of the question. This one was smart, and making sure his answers matched the codes on his dossier to avoid being lead into a trap by the insurrectionists. With the kind of hardware he'd seen them using, it was clear this was an operation that had been planned for many cycles before its brilliant execution. Painstakingly smuggling in the explosives and weapons must have taken years to avoid alerting the authorities.

As he watched Echo squad's icon start making its way towards him, and Delta, Starscream edged closer before taking cover behind a ruined façade of one of the Primes leading Cybertronians to victory over some ancient foe. "Big mess is what we've got here, sir. Sorry that you're the one whose got to clean it up." Said the Sergeant feelingly. His brash tone had softened after he accepted that Starscream was there to help them.

Grinning, he replied, "It won't just be me, Stormclaw. All of us are going to fix this. If it was just me, we'd all be better off as scrap heaps anyway. You copy?"

He heard a short chuckle in response. "Copy, Commander."

Marking out a curtain wall that shielded the advancing Praetorians from view, Stormclaw acknowledged the order as he moved his squad into position. Starscream could hear the intense firefight raging only a few dozen meters from where he was, and contained his rage at the thought of good bots dying to those worthless scum.

"We're ready and willing, sir. Where are you?"

"I'm just forty meters to the East of you, Sergeant. We'll catch the bastards by surprise, but I want to do a little recon first so stay put until I tell you to move. Delta won't last much longer without us."

"Roger that, sir."

. . . . . .

Starscream crawled as quietly as he could manage, with the mass of shattered statuary, fallen barricades, and splintered masonry providing him plenty of cover. As soon as he passed the façade's edge, he saw the furious firefight raging in front of him. There had been obsidian columns inscribed with the names of fallen soldiers neatly arrayed here, now they lay smashed apart by missiles and plasma canons.

One slab of the scorched rock lay close to him, while other fragments lay scattered about in front of the atrium where the terrorists who skillfully traded fire with the entrenched Delta Squad. It had been a brutal contest, with corpses littering the ground from both sides. But the advantage had shifted in the attackers favor as they slowly advanced from cover to cover, pushing the remaining Praetorians back. He counted at least two dozen of them.

Just as he was about to ask Stormclaw where he was, a crisp, "We're at the coordinates, sir. Just say the word."

"There's about two squads of them, Sergeant. Think you can handle that?"

A growl preceded his response. "It would be my genuine pleasure, sir."

Taking a deep breath, Starscream drew his officer's saber and a small plasma rifle with three quarters of a charge left in its coils that he'd scavenged from the debris. Starscream's pulse increased in frequency. Here he was, a totally inexperienced bot, leading troops into combat. There was a swarm of killers who'd extinguish his spark the first chance they got, if he let them, only a short distance away.

"Attack!" The cry cut through the copious amount of gunfire for just a moment and a mutual pause ensued as confusion washed over the combatants. Then, the terrorists were startled when a bot burst from behind cover, behind them, with an Energon-curdling battle cry at full sprint. For a handful of nanocycles, all they could do was stare at him with open mouths and widened optics.

Just as he'd hoped, not one of them were looking the other way as Echo Squad blasted a gaping hole in the wall that blocked them before blasting their foes with an [earth]-shattering fusillade. A sparkbeat later, the stunned survivors of Delta rejoined the fight with a vicious salvo of their own, ripping those who'd been about to finish them off to shreds. Six bots were suddenly cut down, a few being outright blown to bits.

Eighteen left.

Sharpshooters from Echo loosed a volley, killing three more bots who hadn't been able to scuttle back into cover quite fast enough.

Fifteen left.

Even as time started to slow, Starscream pumped his legs harder than he'd ever run before in his life. He had to close the distance before they recovered, or he'd be cut to ribbons out in the open. One of them remembered the threat from the rear, and decided to meet the Seeker halfway, charging out to meet him while Trans-readying a wickedly sharp glaive that crackled along the edges. It was unfortunate that Starscream didn't get to explain that melee was the type of ground combat at which he excelled. Otherwise, it might have been a fair fight.

As his opponent drew his arm back for an overhead swing, Starscream didn't slow down and crashed into the bot with all the force and grace of a run-away freight transport, sending them both sprawling in the dust. His plasma rifle clattered out of his hand, but he kept a firm enough grip on his blade so that it stayed with him.

Jumping to his feet, he dodged past a sloppy slice aimed at taking off his left arm, and ran the dazed bot through the chest before he had a chance to take another swing. Ripping his sword out and snatching a grenade from the belt of the dying bot, he thumbed the activation pad before lobbing it at the nearest clutch of the vermin cowering beside another of the fallen columns. All four of them were extinguished in a fiery ball of energy and shrapnel. Now that they were cornered, one of them panicked and tried to run, receiving a round between his should blades for his trouble.

Nine left.

A brace of bots from Echo Squad, having used up their limited stocks of ammo, decided to imitate the crazy Seeker, and charge the last of the attackers. Starscream joined in, narrowly avoiding death several times, only for one of his newfound comrades to intervene and see that he saw another dawn. After a minicycle, the last of them were dead.

Starscream looked towards the smoking Atrium. "Delta, you alive in there? Any seriously wounded?"

"Only walking wounded. The rest didn't make it." He winced at the grateful, but desponded response. Counting the number of Praetorian bodies helped him understand just a little of what the bots of Delta felt. These had been their comrades, and they'd been slaughtered by an enemy they hadn't ever thought to be prepared for.

Emerging into the sunlight, a slim, golden bot with purple trim that had long since lost its luster came forward with an exhausted look to his face. "Thank you. I thought that was gonna be the end for us."

"Don't mention it. Sergeant Stormclaw, see if your medics can't help them out." Stormclaw nodded, motioning for them to examine the battered survivors of Delta-Four. He only counted seven troopers who limped out to meet their rescuers.

Starscream felt angry. It wasn't just a personal vendetta now. They would pay for all they had done. Checking the tactical display, he saw that the terrorists were beginning to breach the main lines of resistance that had been holding up their advance into the main complex. Other units were nearby, and with the beginnings of a strike force, he felt like they might be able to punch a hole in the noose that was forming around the last of the Praetorians. The only victory here would be survival and escape to fight another day.

Calling Stormclaw over, he asked, "Sergeant, how long 'till we're ready to move again?"

"Just a [minute] or two, sir. The lads are just scavenging some ammo and finishing up patching Delta's hurt. Where are we off to next?"

"We can't help with the main fight, that's been a lost cause since this thing started. What we can do is get as many survivors as we can, and find an exit before those bastards hunt us down. Then I'll have a chance to figure out what the hell is really going on here."

Stormclaw's brow knitted, optics focusing on tiny glint that he'd only seen for a moment. Kneeling down, he found a small badge that lay next to one of the fallen terrorists. Flipping it over, he saw a crimson face. "Find something interesting?"

Frowning, he stood up and showed it to Starscream. "Never seen this before."

Though he felt a vague sense of recognition, he couldn't place the strange little symbol either. "Some form of identification, I'd guess, but that's the best I can do."

Pocketing it, he turned to his commander and saluted sharply. Raising an eyebrow, Starscream said, "Time to move out, I think. Let's get a move on before our friends show up and finish the job."

Stormclaw grinned. "Ah, but we have you now, sir. They don't."

He laughed. "Get on with it already." As the bot trotted away to assemble the others, the Seeker was alone with his thoughts for the first time in what had felt like an eternity. He knew he should feel lucky, thankful even. But for some reason, he just felt an impending sense of dread. Deep down in his spark, Starscream knew this was only the beginning.