Disclaimer: I own nothing – at least nothing Transformers related.
AN: Sorry for the long delay.
I was quite busy for the last few weeks and then an idea for a One Shot entered my mind and wouldn't let go.
Anyway, here is a new chapter.
Not particularly long, not particularly funny but highly ironical.
Thanks to mdnytryder for correcting this chapter.
17/28 Exhausted (G1)
It had been a hard battle ,and no Decepticon had escaped the recently strengthened Autobots and their furious laser fire unscathed.
Since Prime and his mechs had gotten reinforcements from Cybertron and had begun building a giant sentient Cybertronian city here on Earth, it seemed almost impossible to defeat them.
More often than not, Megatron's troops found themselves in the medbay of the Nemesis, sporting serious, life threatening injuries, where they formerly only had to deal with nasty scratches and some holes in their armor.
The Constructicons were pissed beyond comparison and had already declared that they would go on strike if the war continued in this manner.
They were construction workers, not fully educated medics, and the piles of injured mechs after each fight were well beyond their limited abilities and even more limited patience.
Until now, there had been no Decepticon casualities, but it was only a matter of time before someone wouldn't return to active duty.
They only question that remained was who would be the first to die.
Even when Megatron had a plan, as he had stated before this last battle, nobody was sure anymore, if their leader would manage to put it into action in time….
Starscream leaned against the hangar wall, cursing silently to himself.
His left wing was broken and large chunks of his chest armor had been blown away, leaving his delicate internals open for everyone to see and allowing them to get clogged with dust and a nasty Energon and Coolant mixture.
But most of the others were worse off, and for once, he didn't complain much and opted to suffer in silence, pitying himself and wishing death and the Unmaker on every new Autobot out there.
May they rust in the Pit over an oil-fuelled flame, while smothered in acid mist.
The giant lift behind him came to life once again.
It opened slowly and revealed to sight a hunched over and bleeding Megatron, missing his left arm and parts of his cranium. The armor on the other arm was melted and torn to shreds.
The only reason he didn't just fall over was the ever loyal Soundwave, bleeding and damaged himself, who was half-supporting, half-carrying his Supreme Commander, his aching and moaning Creations limping by his feet.
Megatron gave an agonized grunt when his 3IC dragged him out of the lift and into the hangar.
The silver Cybertronian's pale, pain-filled optics drifted through the room until they settled on Starscream.
For one long minute the Seeker thought that he would be recognized and sneered at, that his Commander would refuse to limp around with Soundwave's help any longer and swagger to the medbay all by himself, only to assert his superior status to Starscream once again.
He awaited harsh words, reprimands, insults, mockery, ridicule, suspicion, accusations, anything….
It didn't come.
Behind the pain and agony in Megatron's too pale optics, there was no room left for recognition of the infamous traitor and usurper.
Everyone of his thoughts was hazy and sluggish, circling around pain and blue and red paint.
Even Soundwave was far more concerned with getting his Commander to the medbay than worrying about Starscream and his not-so-noble intentions.
Both Cybertronians passed by the Seeker, not sparing him another glance, the Cassetticons trailing behind.
The Air Commander stared after them intently, pain forgotten for the moment.
He would recognize such a golden opportunity even if he had been blown to pieces.
Megatron was vulnerable and weak, Soundwave occupied and inattentive, the little menaces nothing more than a bunch of broken toy soldiers.
He hesitated for a moment, than he lifted his left arm and targeted the back of his greatest adversary with his nullray.
The weapon slowly began to charge, draining even more power out of his depleted systems.
Starscream looked at the silver plates, the mud in between them, the Energon dripping to the floor.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
He sneered when his weapon reached their full charge.
One shot was all it would take and his dreams would come true….
He didn't do it.
Starscream lowered his weapon and sucked the energy back into his grateful body.
There would always be another time.
Perhaps, after Megatron had completed and executed his next "great" plan.
The Seeker slid down the wall and offlined his optics with a groan.
Right now he was just too slagging tired….
Somehow I have the feeling Starscream regretted this decision for the rest of his life – and afterlife.