Chapter 8: Chapter 7
Chapter 7
(again, this is AU. Also, somebody is a wee bit out of character this time. And he hates me for it.)
I own nothing, but I love Transformers!
"There are too many of them! We must retreat!"
The ground shook with the force of the explosions, painting the sky a lurid red. Decepticons fled aimlessly in their panic, desperate to escape the stone giant. One unlucky spark was picked up between two fingers and crushed like an insect. Another was flung, screaming, through the air before coming to rest on the tip of a spear-like rock, impaled.
Shockwave fired a few ineffectual rounds at the titan, then turned callously away from his comrades' suffering.
"Where are you going?" a Vehicon screamed, one of his legs snapped off at the knee.
"Failure is assured, resistance is illogical," the soulless monotone replied.
The Decepticons nearest to Shockwave shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to agree or disagree with the dangerous mech. And so they looked to Starscream. Of all soldiers, he was sure to want to live. Perhaps he would order a retreat.
They were wrong.
"Coward!" he spat, and the venom in his voice startled them all. "That's Unicron! Do you imagine that hiding will pacify him?!"
He turned his blood-red optics back to the battlefield. "I'd rather go down fighting than make a deal with the devil!" He transformed and rocketed back into the massacre, scanning for one particular spark.
Megatron stood frozen, trapped in the violet gaze of the Destroyer.
"Kneel, worm!" the insidious voice echoed in the warlord's mind. Sluggishly, he moved his hands to his helm.
"No..." he hissed weakly, "You don't own me!" Pain shot through his processor as the beast laughed.
"I will always own you! Do you not see the energon that stains your hands? What of Tyger Pax and the younglings that lie dead there? What of your greed, your ambition? You serve me and only me!"
Shame filled Megatron, and he began to lose the will to fight back. Unicron was right. He had no reason to stand tall, he was just a murderer. Any moment, surely Primus would realize this and rescind his blessing. Just as his knees began to give out, a slender form was at his side, supporting his weight.
"Lord Megatron will never kneel to you!" a raspy voice declared, "You have no more power over him!"
Starscream stood at his master's side once more, ready to fight - and this time, there would be no retreat. Megatron stared uncomprehendingly at the mech he had come to expect nothing but treachery from.
The SIC turned to look his leader dead in the optics. "You don't belong to him anymore, Megatron. He can not hurt you anymore than you let him!"
Megatron pushed the smaller mech away with a snarl. "Run, Starscream. As you always have. We cannot change what we are."
His mighty shoulders began to fall beneath the accusations of Unicron. Even as the Destroyer laughed, Starscream growled in frustration and shook the mighty warrior fiercely.
"You have changed what you are! What you cannot change is who you were meant to be!"
"And who was I meant to be?" Megatron asked bitterly.
Something flared in Starscream's optics, some indescribable emotion. "A Prime," he said softly, "A leader of loyal followers, a mech of honor!"
"A Prime..." Megatron echoed in a hushed voice, fingers rising of their own accord to touch the symbol so recently carved into his helm. Sudden understanding flooded his spark, and courage filled him again. Starscream nodded.
He gave a mighty heave, and the warlord stood steady on his own pedes once again.
"Go back to the Pit, Unicron!" he shouted, "You have no claim on me!"
With a hideous roar, the stone avatar called forth a massive blade. "Had you continued to pay me homage, I might have spared you! Now, follower of Primus, you will die!" The blade moved swiftly-almost too quick to see.
The silver mech prepared himself, but the blow never came. There was a sickening crunch, and a strangled sound escaped his lips when he saw his second-in-command impaled on the end of the sword.
"S...Star...scream..." he gasped. His one-time rival slowly swiveled his helm, shuddering in pain. With a Herculean effort, he raised his arm in a salute that looked more like a benediction. And smiled.
"Til...all...are...one!" he whispered, then triggered the detonation of his arm-rockets.
"NO!"
Megatronus's optics snapped online, and his hand automatically went to his spark chamber, feeling the phantom blade that had claimed Starscream's life. With a shuddering gasp, the mighty warrior hauled himself off of his recharge bunk. There would be no more rest this night.
His thoughts returned to the conversation he'd had with Optimus before his brother had returned to Eden. They had quietly discussed the strange attacks on the outpost for some time before Optimus had brought up the border skirmish again. He had asked how Megatronus had handled the situation, and whether he'd been too harsh to put the trine on complete flight restriction. After all, the triplets were "only younglings."
Megatronus didn't think that he'd been too hard on them. Why couldn't they see that he was just trying to protect them? Those three had no recognizable sense of self-preservation! What if they started another fight, but with someone less honorable than an Autobot? What if they ran into that gang from Nal Hutta and got shipped off to who-knows-where as a collector's item?
Starscream's children had no common sense: it was up to him to make sure they didn't die young.
Like their sire? his mutinous processor whispered.
And there it was. He hadn't saved Starscream. His first act as a Prime had been failure, and he had rashly sworn to protect his fallen comrade's family as a result.
Megatronus groaned and left his chambers, lost in thought. Sunstorm, at least, had a good idea of when to keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, he was overconfident in his abilities, and tended to disregard restrictions.
Ramjet was too timid. He'd do or say anything if he thought it'd keep someone from being angry with him. And when he wasn't afraid of something, he was so joyously mischievous that he disregarded any and all potential threats until it was too late.
And Slipstream...what was he going to do with Slipstream?
She was so like her sire in some ways, with her penchant for sneakiness and back-up plans. Yet she had her carrier's sarcastic defiance. Not that Airachnid even noticed her daughter's personality. The only person the spider-femme cared about was herself.
As was occasionally his habit after flashbacks, Megatronus found his pedes leading him to Starscream's memorial. To his mild surprise, Slipstream was there, curled up between the statue and the wall.
"Youngling?" the Prime asked as gently as he could, which still sounded like someone sharpening iron.
The femme leapt to her pedes, startled, and saluted crisply. "Sir! I didn't know anyone else was awake. I...I won't disturb you sir."
Megatronus saw in Slipstream's optics a desperate need for approval, making him slightly regret the way he'd spoken to her and her brothers earlier.
"At ease, Little One," he sighed.
She relaxed a little, but her wings were trembling.
Oh, blast me for an old soft-sparked fool! Megatronus thought, Alright Optimus, I'll try it your way.
He crouched before the small seeker. "Trouble recharging?" Shamefaced, the youngling nodded.
"Me too."
Slipstream looked astonished. Megatronus Prime couldn't sleep either?
The Prime motioned her to sit beside him. Cautiously, she obeyed.
"You've... grown up a lot, you know," Megatronus said awkwardly, "Sometimes I have trouble believing you and your brothers are even old enough to fly."
Apparently we're not, seeing as you grounded us! Slipstream thought rebelliously.
The mech's voice broke into her internal rant. "You were too young to remember the War."
"I remember you bringing Dad's body home," she muttered, preferring to use human words to express her feelings. "I remember being confused because he wouldn't wake up. I remember Mom saying he had become weak, and probably deserved it!" her voice rose in fervor and pitch.
"I remember her abandoning us on the Nemesis, next to his lifeless husk! I remember holding my brothers, knowing that I had to stand up for them now because no one else would!"
Megatronus could have kicked himself. He hadn't intended to stir up those memories. But perhaps some good could yet come of it.
"What if you had hurt or killed someone yesterday in 12C?"
The small femme looked at him strangely. "Speak your mind, Slipstream," he said, warning himself in advance not to be offended.
"With all due respect, sir...why this concern about Autobots? We are Kaonians! We are proud warriors, we don't back down. We fought many battles-"
"And where is it written that that's a good thing?" the elder interrupted. "Megatron was Kaonian. He was proud, but he was cruel, and idiotic and so he fell. Megatronus must learn everyday what it means to be a Prime: to be responsible for the lives under his care."
He laid a hand on Slipstream's shoulder, and felt her tense up. "If Optimus were not such a gentle soul, there very well could have been war. There could have been more younglings whose parents never came home. Do you understand that, Little One?"
He stretched out his right arm. "Did you know that I have a blade equipped in this arm? No, I suppose you didn't. I have fought in so many battles, been...damaged so many times, I can no longer summon it. Knock Out does his best, of course, but I have built up centuries of scar mesh from all my injuries. Sometimes, during particle storms, I can bring out my sword, but not without pain. Do you see? War is not glorious."
"But in the stories and ballads-" Slipstream began to protest.
Megatronus shook his helm. "I once thought the same, but now I know. They became the Kaonians' way of coping with the truth."
His voice grew old for just a moment as his optics were drawn to the statue of Starscream. "There is adrenalin, yes. But there is also fire and pain and death, and the knowledge that when you go home, some of your friends aren't going to be there."
"It sounds like the Pit," the youngling whispered, horrified.
"Precisely so," Megatronus agreed morosely. He stood, towering over Slipstream once more. "Get some rest, Little One," he commanded, not unkindly. "Tomorrow we will discuss taking you off of flight restriction-provided you can show me that you are responsible enough."
Slipstream's jaw dropped, and she nearly put her optic out with the rapidity of her salute. As she scurried down the corridor, Megatronus turned his gaze back to Starscream's impassive face.
"Not a word out of you," he growled, "This never happened!"
With a heavy exvent, he stretched and returned to his quarters. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he had done it. That he had managed to have a rational conversation with Slipstream without one of them losing their temper was nothing short of a miracle!
He blamed sleep deprivation.
Short chapter compared to the last two, I know, and mostly dialogue again. I wanted to put Megatron in a situation where yelling won't fix the problem...I'm kind of terrible that way, but I have this thing where in any story I write, I always leave a way for the bad guy to redeem himself. A bit like Flannery O'Connor, I guess, but usually without the violence.