A/N: Last chapter! Only an epilogue left to go now, which should be posted in a week as usual (or possibly earlier, if I get it done before Thursday). Thank you, thank you, thank you for sticking with this monster of a fic – for the reviews and the faves and the alerts and for reading it. You all rock.
Thank you so, so much to my wonderful beta, too, who has patiently put up with both this monster and me.
There were an abundance of words Megatron could have used to describe what he was faced with – treason came to mind, as did cowards, turncoats, and treachery – but he did not give in to the initial temptation to voice them and carve their price out of Starscream's worthless hide. The Air Commander was supposed to control its Seekers, and most certainty its worthless trine – but then, a Second in Command was supposed to be loyal and if Starscream failed so spectacularly in that, then what sensible being would honestly expect him to do any better in his duties as Air Commander?
Retribution could wait. For the moment, he had far more pressing issues to deal with, the fact that he was outnumbered and the loss of the air support of his Seekers being at the front of those. Neither were things he could immediately change but then, he had not survived by being without skills or resources and unlikely odds could still be twisted in one's favour with the proper amount of competence applied...competence or sheer, dumb luck as his enemies' continued survival was ample proof of.
He levelled a look at Skywarp that would have intimidated any brighter mech into submission but did make a point of not moving any further. No one had ever accused Skywarp of having much in terms of sense and - regretfully at the moment – that lack of sense was backed up by weaponry and teleportation both.
However much he wanted to tear Starscream's miserable spark from his chest, it would have to wait, and instead he focused on the more important issues. Starscream had always balanced on the edge of treason but until now, he had never crossed that line to such a degree. To claim the loyalty of an Autobot Seeker and pin Megatron himself against Optimus Prime in one and the same move would be a reasonable motive for Starscream's act of treason but it did not explain the way he yielded to his worthless trine-mates.
His pest of a Second was also the Air Commander. That his trine disagreed with something should have no bearings on anything. They had argued before and had been overruled and yielded to their Commander. If Starscream had truly been against it, nothing his trine-mates could have done would have mattered a thing... which left the question of why.
Something important had changed and Megatron was well aware that quite a lot rested on his ability to find that bit of information and use it.
"Prime," Megatron finally said in a voice that was coolly distant and showed nothing of his anger, knowing well that ignoring Starscream worked better than any threats or insults ever would. "I would accuse you of stealing my Seekers but we are both aware that you lack the strength to do so."
Half back-handed compliment of Seekers in general, half insult that they would offer a truce to something so weak, and he could read Starscream's anger plainly in the tension of his wings.
Unwilling, then, but considering that Thundercracker had spoken first rather than Starscream, he should perhaps not be surprised. Had it been Starscream's idea and done willingly, Megatron suspected that his Second's response would have been a sneered insult back – about Megatron's own strength and competence, about the Decepticon cause, about anything he felt might possibly draw a reaction – but instead there was tense anger and no sign of the arrogant sneer that was so common from him.
Thundercracker's idea, then. Skywarp would not have thought of it, much less taken the initiative, but that still did not explain why Starscream had gone along with it and much less unwillingly so.
An automatic update somewhere in his processors told him what he already knew – that his ground-based troops were too far away to be useful to him in any way at the moment – and instead he turned part of his attention to Soundwave, in orbit far above.
"Any further information on our treacherous Second?" he asked through his personal comm-frequency.
The response came instantly.
"Seeker behaviour: abnormal. Repeated attempts to offline Autobot Seeker: failed. Bond with Autobot Seeker: likely."
A bond. That had never stopped Starscream from offlining Seekers in the past but then, something had to be behind his Second's actions and a bond would certainty explain the angry tension in those wings and Thundercracker's willingness to enter a truce with the Prime. That one and Skywarp had always been far more sentimental than Starscream – worthless as anything but wing-mates to a strong trine-leader and thus no concern to Megatron – so it would make sense that they would be the ones to acknowledge any potential bond of their trine-leader... and certainly a stronger-than-usual bond, if that was what it was.
"Megatron." Prime dipped his head in slight acknowledgement of the change in situation – there was an echo of respect in it, acknowledgement of the devastation the Slag Maker could cause if he so chose, and Megatron kept a cool gaze levelled on his... equal as the mech continued to speak. "There have been Autobot Seekers in the past that would have disagreed with that. Their choice in faction was their own, as should be the right of all beings in this War."
A nice reminder of the politics the Primes had always been raised with by the worthless sycophants and nobility that had surrounded them like Energon-vultures around an offlined mech. Optimus Prime had been no exception and Megatron knew well that only his own influence on the Prime – his choice to force their stagnant society into motion – had turned this Prime into something even remotely worthy of the title.
Of course, war did other things to a being, too, and Megatron was not above exploiting any weakness he saw.
"And the youngling?" he sneered. "I assume, then, that it was offered a fair choice in loyalties as well? It is, after all, much easier to ensure a Seeker's loyalty and independence from its rightful Air Commander if it is stolen and raised as nothing more than a winged ground-pounder."
The way the Air Commander in questioned stiffened at the words spoke volumes and was added to the rapidly expanding file of knowledge Megatron already kept about the situation. Barely suppressed anger from Starscream, anger and... discomfort from his trine-mates, how useful to know, but it was the reaction from the Autoscum that were the most telling at all.
Perfect calmness from the Prime, the usual rage and battle-lust from Sideswipe – both expected and both ignored for the moment – but it was the responses of the bondmates of the Seeker as well as the Seeker-youngling itself that told most of all.
He had expected anger and it was clearly there in Ironhide... but those distinctive cannons were aimed at Megatron rather than any of the Command Trine and that confirmed what Soundwave had already theorised. The walking cannon had bonded with the youngling - if Starscream had done the same, neither frontliner nor medic were in any position to move against his wayward Second without the risk of alienating their Seeker mate.
Starscream was, as Air Commander, the greatest threat to any Autobot Seeker however much Megatron disliked to admit that even to himself. Logic dictated that Starscream should be the obvious choice for a target, then. The only reason why Ironhide would choose any other target would be the inability to take out the primary one.
That the medic, familiar with Seekers as he was, did nothing to correct that choice of target told Megatron without shadow of doubt that he was right. The discomfort in Starscream's trine-mates and the tension in the medic's frame, however, also told him there was more to the situation that he had yet to find out and he turned his attention back to his fickle Second.
"You bonded with it, Starscream. If any, you should know where Prime stole his Seeker from. Or perhaps the Air Commander of Seeker-kind finds it reasonable that a youngling should find itself alone on a forsaken rock like this." Mocking, baiting, striking where he knew Starscream would have no choice but to react and then turned his attention to Prime before his Second could even speak.
"Were its creators Autoscum so blinded by your words that they surrendered it willingly, Prime, or did you take it by force? We accounted for every youngling we lost in the War. Can you claim the same?"
Tension, discomfort – not just from Prime as expected at the insults and insinuations, but from Starscream as well this time; angry discomfort but most definitely discomfort... and echoed in not just the youngling itself but in the expression of the Autoscum around them and that was most certainly something to examine more closely.
"Perhaps it doesn't matter," he dismissed at the tense, continued silence and rested his gaze on Starscream. "I would wonder why the Command Trine would willing ally itself with a creature that tried to turn a Seeker against its kin but Starscream never put much... importance on such worthless things as duty and loyalty."
Move slightly, rest his gaze on Skywarp instead-
- And there it was, the glow of impulsive anger that Megatron had long since learned would draw the truth out of his Command Trine far easier than dealing with Starscream would.
"A truce!" Skywarp snarled. "We didn't ally ourselves with them and they didn't steal it or we would have crushed them!"
Starscream looked like he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill his trine-mate or Megatron first – a good indicator that whatever Skywarp had accidentally said had been important – and from the way Ironhide's cannons glowed fractionally brighter...
"Starscream?" Megatron commented with deceptive mildness as he turned his attention back to the underling in question.
There was a second of perfect silence as Starscream stared right back and quite clearly considered every course of action he had and then he straightened slightly, wings sweeping out behind him, and a glow in his optics that wasn't complete satisfaction with the situation but enough to pass as such to those who did not know him.
"It was a gift, Magnificent One. Merely... confirmation of the superiority of Seeker-kind. What concern do we have for the Allspark when we carry the future of our kind in our own sparks and with the blessings of Primus?"
Megatron's optics burned dark before he could stop it, a soft spot that Starscream was all-too-familiar with, but an unexpected voice interrupted him. Halfway recognised from recordings of Starscream and the youngling, half unfamiliar in the difference that those recordings would always carry against reality... and whatever else he might have thought of was forgotten the moment the words registered.
"Oh, for frag's sake," the creature muttered. The interruption drew several sharp looks, Starscream's included, but all of them were too late to do a thing as the youngling straightened and continued in a very un-Seeker-like way. "Major William Lennox, former Commander of NEST, and currently 'touched' by Primus." The creature made mocking little quotes with his clawed hands at the word 'touched' and then continued before Megatron's processors had any chance to catch up at all. "Just call me Will; there's no need to be formal when we've tried to kill each other before."
More than a few things registered at that - Ironhide's pained expression, the Hatchet's sigh, the Prime that looked suddenly tired, the mockery of their Creator, the Command Trine's uncertainty, the compulsive twitch of Starscream's hands – but none of it managed to take priority over the most unnerving issue of them all:
"A fleshling?"
The word was nothing as much as a dark growl, half threat and half promise of painful retribution at whoever had thought of the insanity in the first place, but the Seeker-fleshling-creature just smirked – toothily and very, very un-Seeker-like.
"How's Blackout these days?"
Fleshling, Megatron's processors repeated to him and made him quite suddenly and disturbingly agree with the still-present, compulsive twitches of Starscream's hands that left no doubt that he would like nothing as much as to choke the life out of his new bondmate. A fleshling. That one, at that.
"Offline," he growled, memories of losing a prized soldier to mere humans clear in his processors. "As you should know, fleshling."
The wretched creature looked downright smug and Megatron turned his silent ire on Starscream instead. He wasn't sure how but somehow – somehow – this was Starscream's fault, he was sure of it.
"Air Commander Starscream?" he asked, all silky threat of painful retribution. "Explain."
"You could just ask me, you know," the insufferable fleshling offered but before Megatron could tell him exactly what he thought of that idea, Prime had already stepped in.
"Major."
It was not a suggestion. Prime could give orders, Megatron had taught him in person and by force both, but the sudden glow in the creature's eyes was not the response Megatron would have expected of any Autobot, not even a Seeker.
"No."
And that, Megatron understood, was not the fleshling anymore. Perhaps an unrestrained Seeker, perhaps more, but not a fleshling, never a fleshling, not a creature like that.
"No," it repeated just as firmly and stopped Ironhide in his tracks as he approached with nothing more than a look. "Enough."
Burning optics turned to Megatron even as one clawed finger pointed at the Command Trine and for the first time in long aeons of war, Megatron felt genuinely disturbed by something. "Those are ours."
Starscream looked like he was going to argue but Thundercracker's hand locked hard around his arm and the creature simply ignored it all and turned its attention to Prime instead with no more mercy in its optics than it had shown Megatron himself.
The clawed finger pointed unnecessarily at the Hatchet and Ironhide and the creature spoke again. "Those are ours. She is ours."
Perhaps Prime was less unsettled by it all, perhaps he had seen it before or merely had the need to obey as part of the programming given to any Prime, but in any case he at least managed a slow nod in agreement – as if, Megatron mentally snorted, the creature offered any choice.
Burning optics lingered for endless moments on Prime, on Megatron himself, and then that clawed finger found Thundercracker's figure with unerring accuracy even as those optics never once left the dual targets of the Lord High Protector and his brother. "You will listen. You will agree. Or you will face extinction."
Those unnerving optics held their gaze for endless moments longer before the glow dulled to a mere ordinary level and Megatron felt the tension in his body reduced to merely a... healthy wariness.
A Prime unleashed, the archived had mentioned once when he was young still, was the weapon of a vengeful creator. He had looked at his brother, his Prime, and seen nothing of that in him, no glorious potential at all. He had seen glimpses later, rare visions in battle, and treasured them for what could have been.
Now, he knew, there was little doubt left at all. Perhaps the line of the Primes was no longer able to carry out the devastation of that weapon but the creator remained no less vengeful if pushed far enough.
And push they had, indeed, he realised with horrific clarity. Pushed beyond any sense or reason... and possibly, any chance of forgiveness, too.
"Will?" The Hatchet's voice, even low as it was, felt blasphemously loud in the silence that followed and Megatron did not need to strain any sensors to hear the response that followed.
"Six billion humans," the fleshling-Seeker murmured in a half-daze before mercifully bland, blue optics finally managed to focus on the medic. "Some of them would have to be suitable."
Indeed.
The threat hung heavily over their heads and even Megatron couldn't keep the unease he felt from showing completely as he turned his attention to his brother and forcibly pushed the shock out of his processors.
He had always held a certain appreciation of the idea of peace through superior firepower but that made it no easier when he finally found the theory of it applied against himself.
"Truce?" Optimus Prime spoke softly – not weak, not reverent but stunned, most likely, by the revelation and reminder of his own place in it all.
Weighed and found wanting. It was not a pleasant thought.
"Truce," the Lord High Protector agreed.
In the end, he could do no less.