Disclaimer: Why do I not own? :'(
XVI
(i)
Cybertron left the orbit of the most recent sun it had ventured close to. The temperature abruptly dropped, and chemical clouds gathered. There was little light aside from artificial sources. Pollution from ground pounder cities returned with a vengeance, and acid rain poured from the sky, making loud, pelting sounds against the windows. Even after three cycles straight, it had not stopped. The clouds remained black and thick, writhing like a massive creature crying in pain.
Vos continued to function as usual, though now, hardly any flier went outside unless a flight was absolutely unavoidable. I'd issued an order banning all sparklings and younglings from taking the air. Special repellent wax had been distributed to every household, even those in the deep towers, to protect sensitive wing plating from getting damaged by the acidity and moisture. While the rain was not deadly, long exposure could lead to numerous complications, all of which hindered a flier's ability to fly. Patrolling officers had to be given large cloaks for better protection, but wearing them sacrificed speed, which caused widespread grumpiness amongst the Fighter Jets and Strikers. It was not uncommon to look out a window and spot an officer peeling off a drenched cloak in disgust. However, the security force was not the only ones becoming hateful toward the weather.
Due to the reluctance of other fliers to leave their homes for supplies and other necessities, Cargo Shuttles had to make more trips around Vos. No cloak was big enough for the large sized fliers, so they had to smear on layers upon layers of repellent wax, which irritated surface sensors. Smaller fliers such as Seekers and Stealth Jets had an even worse time. Lighter plating was more sensitive, and the compounds found in the repellent wax were not kind. It was difficult to pick between an itch to fly versus an itch in the wing joint, as neither were particularly desirable.
I cycled air through my intakes, and stared at Nightfire's lips. The Space Shuttle was reporting on energon productivity and other related subjects, but I barely listened, his voice a murmuring drone in the flat silence of the Grand Hall. I was one of those highly affected by the Primus-damned rain, which made me even more excitable than usual. The smallest irritation could set me off into an explosion of fury, and the tiniest matter not going the way I wished could inflict an episode of uncontrollable frustration. I had never gone to the firing range so many times within one cycle prior to this continuous period of disgusting weather. I had been informed that the rain was going to last a whole mega-cycle more, and I had never so whole-sparkedly hoped my science unit was wrong before.
At least the Autobots had stopped pestering me with video calls of peace and harmony. I made a scoff halfway during Nightfire's report, and he gave me an inquiring look, which I waved aside, lounging in a rather unsightly sprawl on my throne. The war had already taken off, and I was pleased that my side was winning with ease. There was no reason for me to acknowledge the fretting Senate, especially when their interest has never hold much importance to me in the first place.
Speaking of the war, Megatron's army seemed to be in rapid growth. He had proven to be a much more capable commander than I'd expected, and, for a ground pounder, he was half intelligent, which was refreshing to see once in a while. Speaking to him was still somewhat awkward, but we stopped having long silences during our meetings, video or otherwise. I was still irked that I had made a hideous spectacle of myself that cycle on the platform. Thankfully, Megatron did not seem keen on mentioning that incident, and I was more than happy to oblige.
Besides, that whole thing was entirely Shockwave's fault.
Thinking of that one-optic still made my tank churn, especially since the slagger had managed to score a good position in the Decepticon army. He was instantly placed as the head of scientific research, though why a bunch of gladiators needed anything researched was beyond me. Skywarp later informed me that Shockwave, after Skyfire and I left Cybertron for our expedition, had openly challenged Autobot authority by publishing a series of provocative essays attacking the Senate system. Surprisingly, despite his ability of blending into the wall, he managed to attract quite a large, supportive audience. This did not sit well with the Autobots, which was why, one cycle, Shockwave simply disappeared. Within the following night, all trace of him ever existing was gone, along with every single mech who asked about his whereabouts.
No one knew what the Autobots did to him at Solre Apex. However, judging from his lack of a faceplate and his missing hand, it was not pleasant. Megatron apparently gave him a new hand in the form of a gun, but even mighty Megatron did not know what to do with his box of a helm, so Shockwave was left with a light bulb as his faceplate.
I took another cycle of air through my intakes, and dismissed Nightfire with a flick of my wrist as he finished his report. More advisors came forward with matters to discuss, but I only leaned my cheekplate against my palm, and stared out the hall through the flight deck. I was so utterly bored. Even with a full schedule, my cycles had been flat, unbearable in their dullness. Between battle strategies, alliance business, economic worries, and an overfilling sewage system, I did not even have the time to visit Firechaser in the recovery chambers. According to Nightfire, he still has not spoken, but he has been drinking more energon, which was a definite improvement in his general well-being.
Ramjet came forth, and bowed with such exaggerated flourish that I was sure he was trying to infuriate me. I scowled down at him, but chose not to acknowledge his stupid efforts, merely jerking my chin at him to rise. He went on to give me a summary of recent progresses for his troops. New weapons, courtsey of Nightfire's family unit, had been introduced to the Conehead Seekers, who had been practicing to become accustomed to the launchers. Unfortunately, their drills had to be cut short due to poor weather conditions, but according to Ramjet, the results had been mostly positive so far.
I was on my way of falling to recharge when a distant, booming sound reached my audials. The floor beneath my peds vibrated, and I perked up, suddenly alert. Ramjet stopped speaking, looking around with a frown. My advisors and I exchanged confused glances, but none of us could answer the unspoken question apparent on all our faceplates. There was a moment of stillness in the air, with only the splattering of acid raindrops breaking the silence.
Until, it came – the crumbling of walls.
The sound was small at first, prelude to the sharp, cracking noises splitting through the calm quiet of my city. In less than a klik, the dense rumbling of a buckling structure followed, resonating between the pillars of my Grand Hall. The sound was coming from far away, but it echoed through the hypnotizing rhythm of the rain like a sonic boom before the crash, a screeching cry of splintering metal. The rolling reverberation of aftershock shook the floor. It was very small, but the chill in my spark was enough to freeze me in my throne, fingers gripping the armrests.
For a long moment, I only stared ahead, trying to wrap my processors around what in Primus's name just happened.
"…Stormstrike?" I asked in a whisper, anxiousness twisting inside my spark.
Stormstrike did not answer. One of his hands was raised, fingers placed against one of his audials. He was motionless as a statue, optics in a hard glow and lips pressed into a firm line. There was a dark shadow cast over the expression on his faceplate as every flier present waited for him to speak, all intakes hitched to a stop.
"Stormstrike, Report!" I snapped out an order, leaning forward from my seat. My voice was especially high in pitch against the heavy silence in the hall, cutting through the tension like a blade. My Striker general remained still for a few kliks longer before he lowered his hand. He cycled air through his system, and turned toward me, shock a simmering flame behind the calm discipline of military protocol.
"Sire," He spoke softly as he raised his optics to meet mine, "One of the outer towers has fallen."
Silence hung around us like chemical fume, thick and corrosive.
"…Explain!" I demanded, fingers tightening further around the armrests of my throne.
"Surrounding patrols are already en route to investigate, but judging from the manner with which the tower fell, there seemed to have been explosives involved."
Startled glances were shared between my advisors, but I could only gape at the Striker in disbelief.
"Explosives?" I repeated in a hiss, lips curling into an angry sneer, "Who in the pits would detonate explosives inside Vos?!" My exclamation rang inside the Grand Hall. Nightfire wrung his fingers together, and glanced at a frowning Thundercracker.
Stormstrike did not reply at first. His somewhat vacant stare indicated that he was mid-comm.. When he finally returned his attention to me, there was a grim glint in his optics. "General Stormstrike reporting possible Militant Code-Level Zero, your Highness." He said, arms straight at his sides as he tipped forward in a shallow bow. "Requesting immediate leave for Border Control Commanding Office."
"…What…?" I had meant to sound more in control, more commanding, but only a whisper left my lips, stunned as I was. "That's not—…" I shook my helm, trying to dispel the thick haze of dismay clouding my processors as I stuttered, "That's not possible!" I looked over the faceplates of my gathered advisors, running a breath through my intakes. "Militant Code-Level Zero means that there's an—"
My words were abruptly cut off by a series of explosions, booming from the outer edges of my city. They shook the very ground my tower was built upon, and I cried out, clutching the arm rests as the world seemed to waver, shifting on its axis. My advisors let out various sounds of surprise. Thundercracker stumbled with a gasp, and would have fallen had Nightfire not caught him before he could.
"Stormstrike, request granted. Bladeflight, accompany Stormstrike and wait for further instruction." I pushed off from my throne as soon as the shaking stopped, and did not wait to see my generals leave. "Ramjet, Thundercracker, with me!" I called out as I hurried toward the highest take-off deck of my tower, strides brisk and wings agitated. My fuel pump raced, a speeding beat inside my chassis. "What is happening?!" I snapped at no one in particular, glaring ahead, fists clenched by my sides.
Ramjet instantly followed, as did Thundercracker. "Everything is being investigated as we speak, Sire," The Conehead was the one who answered, vents making a frustrated sigh after a slight pause. "Stormstrike reports no visual confirmation of any enemy activity, but several towers on the outmost edges of Vos have fallen."
"Towers don't fall by themselves, Primus-damn-it!" I shouted, wings trembling as I stormed down the corridor. "I want a reason within the next breem!"
"Affirmative, Sire." Ramjet bowed his helm. "Orders for immediate action?"
"Double patrol guards and dispatch field medics. Dig out my fliers with your bare hands if you have to!" I spat out orders, processors reeling with questions and worry. "Open all med bays, and alert all military and security personnel of possible Level Zero. Comm. Bladeflight. I want all Strikers, Fighter Jets, and Seekers stationed and ready for battle within the next ten breems." I heard Thundercracker catching up to my right wing. I turned slightly, and met his optics. He gave me a small, but encouraging nod.
"Order forwarded, your Highness." Ramjet replied.
"Good," I felt a scowl form on my faceplate, "And figure out how the slag my towers fell without anyone getting past the labyrinth!"
We arrived at the take off deck. Slapping aside protests for me to put on repellent wax, I grabbed the nearest guard's cloak and threw it on. The doors to the deck parted. I strode out, optics scanning over my city.
I instantly spotted the area of commotion. Despite it being hard to see through the rain, there was definitely smoke from the western quadrant, right before the labyrinth wall. However, that was not my only concern. Many curious fliers were peeking out from their windows, some even venturing out onto their flight decks for a better look.
Slag it, if this did turn out to be a Level Zero, I had to make a city-wide address.
"Issue an immediate state lockdown. No civilian is to leave his home until further instruction." I addressed Thundercracker this time, who bowed slightly.
"Sire," Ramjet suddenly spoke up, taking a step closer, "It appears that the towers have fallen from demolition of their base."
"Explain."
"It's possible that explosives were attached to the foundation of the towers," Ramjet paused a little. "I've just been informed that patrol teams are currently scanning surrounding towers for more explosives."
"Scanning?" I almost blew a fuse. "Tell them to slagging walk! What good is scanning in this weather?!"
"The foundations are under rain water, Sire."
"Then open all drainage routes!"
"They have already been opened, your Highness, but the rain is too heavy. The water is rising faster than the sewage system can drain it. All systems are working at above capacity, but—"
"-Wait!" I cut Ramjet off with a swing of my hand, realization smacking me in the processors so hard that they almost stalled. My extremities started to shake, making the thick cloak shift against my plating. My optics widened, and my lips parted. They quivered as I fought to utter my next command, spark freezing to dread inside my spark chamber.
I could not believe it.
My city was no longer impenetrable.
"…Deactivate all drainage systems and close off all water exits." My voice trembled.
"But Sire, Vos is going to—"
"Do as I say!" I shouted, pitch and volume rising.
"Prince Starscream!" Ramjet took another step forward, insistent and bewildered, "If the water level continues to rise then—"
"For frag's sakes, Ramjet!" I swirled on my peds and screamed at the slow Conehead, "Our city has been infiltrated!" When Ramjet continued to look confused, I almost slapped him. "The drainage routes! They are an opening through the labyrinth!"
"The drainage routes are underground!"
"Slag it, you stupid Conehead—They have to lead somewhere which can be accessed!"
How could I have been so blind? How could I have overlooked such a glaring vulnerability? Having a sewage system that led outside the labyrinth was inevitable, but the pipes were underground and usually protected by webbed bars laced with sensors, sensors that would alert border patrol if anyone was crawling around. However, due to the massive amount of rain, the bars had to be lifted to allow unobstructed water flow.
By Primus, Cybertron barely even had rain. The drainage system was deactivated most of the time anyways. I had been careless, issuing a command for the routes to be fully opened so my city would not become flooded, which was what ended up happening regardless.
And mechs were getting into my city.
Ramjet looked so shocked that I almost laughed in his faceplate, but the sound would have been too sharp, too cutting for the audials and the spark. I only stared at him, optics equally as gaping as his.
"All drainage routes have been closed, Star." Thundercracker spoke softly, ending the silence, and I took a deep cycle of air.
"Tell Stormstrike to increase border protection. Reformat the labyrinth, send in patrol officers," I went back to watching the west quadrant of my city. "Anything that moves, deactivate on sight."
"Affirmative." Ramjet replied, taking a step back. He was silent for a few kliks, undoubtedly forwarding my order, before speaking up once again: "What of the mechs that might have slipped through our city's defenses?"
"Shoot them down." I answered curtly.
"They might be hiding in the rain water, Sire. It's difficult to run scans to find them if that were the case."
"Then patrol the area with extra caution!" I snapped out, fists hard and shaking by my sides. "I don't care how, but find the slaggers and extinguish their sparks."
"Affirmative, your Highness."
As Ramjet extended my order, Thundercracker approached me, mannerism wary.
"Do you…really think mechs would hide in water with such high acidity?" He asked me, skeptical.
"Ground pounders are fragged in the processors, so I'm not taking chances." I replied, voice a low, bitter growl.
"…Should we contact the Decepticons?" He inquired, and I had to physically restrain myself from lashing out at him.
"Are you suggesting that we cannot fight our own battles, Thundercracker?!" I snarled, optics narrowing. My wings made a violent jerk on my back, and I bit out through gritted dentae: "We don't need their help like they need ours. I will protect my own city!"
"But Star," Thundercracker, surprisingly, did not back down even after I explicitly told him what I thought of his inane questions, "We are in an alliance."
He opened his mouth to say more, but I pinned him back a glare.
"No ground pounder will set a single ped into Vos," I hissed, lips curling into a sneer. "All who does will be exterminated on sight!"
"Of course, your Majesty." Thundercracker quickly bowed, and lowered his gaze. I scowled at him some more before turning back to watching my city with a huff. How could he even ask such a thing? I would be smelted in Unicron's pits before I look to Megatron for help. I was above him. I did not need him to fight my battles like he needed me.
"Sire," Ramjet's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"What is it?" I barely turned toward him.
"Stormstrike reports hovercrafts on the horizon. They are approaching Vos in all direction, numbers currently unknown. However, it's clear that the fleet is massive." I felt my optics widen. "They all bear the Autobot insignia."
"Is Stormstrike certain?" Anger began to rise in my spark.
"Affirmative, Sire." Ramjet answered.
"Has there been any attempt of contact from the Autobots?"
"Negative. They arrived without declaration."
The insolent slaggers—They dared to attack my city without declaration of war. Vos was officially governed separately from the rest of Cybertron. I was not the head of some criminal group, Primus-damn-it. I was the Crown of an independent city state! There were protocols to be followed!
I cursed, wing joints tightening.
Not to mention, just as I had feared but expected, the Autobots were using their sheer bulk in number to their advantage. While I had suspected an attack on Vos was coming, I honestly did not think it would happen so soon. However, there was no time to dwell on why the Autobots were so quick to change to the offensive. They had already gotten lucky with slipping in unnoticed through the sewers. They were not going to get lucky again.
"Alert all military personnel of definite Level Zero. Strikers in front, Fighter Jets behind, Seeker teams will remain on stand-by." My voice was curt, my words clear. I stood tall and firm on the highest point of my city, determination a fiery burn inside my chassis. "Bring down the hovercrafts. Autobots rust on the ground." Vague shapes emerged from the curtains of acid rain, shadows on the horizon. "The sky is ours to conquer." My fists clenched tighter. "And remember, Ramjet, no ground pounder is to enter our city." My lips tilted into a humourless smirk, and I glared at the approaching Autobot armada, a malicious sense of glee tickling my spark. "We are not taking prisoners."
"Affirmative, Sire." Ramjet made a full bow, wings fanning out to the side. "All hail Prince Starscream!" He announced as he leapt off from my flight deck, and transformed into jet mode, speeding into the distance. The cloak made flapping noises against his frame as he flew away, undoubtedly to meet the other generals. I watched him until his form became blurred behind the rain before turning around, heading to return to my tower.
I needed to make an address to my city, to my army and my civilians, which meant I needed to be equipped with my null rays even though it was unlikely for me to enter the battle myself.
Tossing the wet, disgusting cloak to the guard, I made my way to my recharge chambers. "Where the slag is Skywarp?" I barked out, annoyed at his lacking presence by my left wing.
"Hold on, Star." Thundercracker soothed, "Let me comm. him."
A few kliks passed, and my blue trine mate still had not offered explanation. Irritated with all the waiting, I sent him a pointed glance as we rounded a corner.
"Well? What's his problem?!"
"He's—…well…" Thundercracker gave me a troubled look, "Let's switch to our trine link."
Huffing, I activated the link.
:Where in the pits are you?!:
:I'm in Kaon! What's wrong now? This cycle is my Decepticon cycle, remember?: Skywarp replied, voice at leisure.
It was fragging me off.
:It's now your Vos cycle. Get your aft back in my tower!:
:As I'd already told TC, I would love to return and serve your glitchy little princely self, but I can't.: Skywarp drawled, and I growled.
:Why the frag not?!:
:Megatron's giving a speech to the new recruits, and I'm right beside him as a representative of Vos,: Skywarp sounded downright smug, :So you can see why I can't just leave.:
My wings began to shake, and I felt my fuel lines lit aflame with anger.
:A speech?! …A speech?!: I shrieked into our comm.-line. :Vos is under attack, you slagging imbecile! And all you can think of doing is sitting on your pompous aft flapping your wings at a bunch of stupid ground pounders?!:
Thundercracker flinched beside me, and rubbed his audials.
:Wait, Vos is what?: Skywarp tried to ask, but I cut in before he could continue.
:And why in the pits are you the representative of Vos? What slag are you representing? Processor malfunctions in fliers?! Frag!: I swore into our comm. link. :Tell that Megatron he can stuff his speech up his tailpipe, and get your aft back in my tower!:
:Megatron doesn't have a tailpipe…: Skywarp dared to mumble.
:Skywarp!: I screeched, and Thundercracker hastily interrupted before I could short his auditory receptors.
:When do you think you can return, Skywarp?:
:I—I really don't know. Megatron just started talking.:
:Frag his speech!: I stomped down the corridor, wings jerking on my back.
:Not helping, Star,: Thundercracker chided gently, and gave my lower wing edges a small rub, which I only begrudgingly allowed after sending him a glare. :…Besides,:He frowned, :Skywarp can't really leave without alerting Megatron that something urgent is happening at Vos, and you don't want Megatron to know, correct?:
Slag, Thundercracker was right.
I wanted to shoot a grounder.
:I need my full trine to address my city, which has to happen soon, before the Strikers start blasting Autobot hovercrafts out of the sky!: I must have worn an extremely ugly expression on my faceplate, because all of the guards looked nervous as I walked past them. :Video transmission to all Vosian citizens will start in exactly twelve breems, and you'd better be in my recharge chambers before then, Skywarp!:
:Why can't Megatron know about the Autobots attacking Vos?: Skywarp asked with an incredulous tone, :Besides, I want to go back, Star, but you're not letting me, yet you're making me. So what the frag do you want me to do?:
:Figure that out yourself! I have more important things to worry about.: I shot back. :Starscream, out.:
I severed my connection to comm., and punched in the pass-code as soon as I could reach the keypad beside my recharge chamber doors. With a beep, the key pad flashed green. The doors slid open, and I strode in, heading straight for my personal laboratory. Ever since my trine mates had become aware of my labs, I'd started storing our null rays there. Impatient and pressed for time, I hopped down the flight of stairs before the opening sequence even completed, and grabbed the compact cannons.
"Polish these first. Put yours on when you're done." I threw all three pairs at Thundercracker as I dashed out of my lab, tapping in the closing and locking sequence. Entering my shower chambers next, I sifted through my many cans of wax, and grumbled in irritation before finally spotting the one I was looking for. It was made for quick application, coupled with an extraordinary shine that smoothed out all imperfections, even tiny scratches. Pleased, I grabbed a clean polishing cloth along the way, and left the shower room.
Hopping onto my berth, I popped the can open, and started rubbing at my peds. Silent kliks went by. I looked up, and only then did I notice Thundercracker simply standing there, holding the null rays and staring at me with widened optics.
"What?" I snapped, jolting him out of his gaping.
"…Starscream…" He frowned in confusion, "What are you doing?"
My intakes made a loud hiss of annoyance.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm giving myself a wax!"
"…Why…?" My blue trine mate's frown deepened, and I would have thrown the can at him if I did not need it so much.
"Why do you think? I can't address my city looking duller than a ground pounder's aft, TC!" With a huff, I moved onto my thighs, and cursed at a stubborn spot that refused to go away.
Thundercracker only stared a moment longer before shaking his helm and coming to sit beside me. He started to polish the null rays, and an anxious silence settled between us. By the time Skywarp teleported into my recharge chamber, I had already finished, and was in the process of checking for any uneven application on my frame. "Whoa, Screamer," The purple idiot took one look at me, and shuttered his optics, "Any shinier you'd blind a mech."
"Shut up, you dolt." I gave him a brief glare, "What did you end up telling Megatron?"
"Aside from how you're a high-maintenance little fragger?" He grinned at me, and I sneered.
"I don't appreciate humour right now, Skywarp." I warned as I snatched my null rays from Thundercracker.
"What? No harm in kidding around, is there?" Skywarp laughed a little before sauntering over. He flopped down onto my berth with a sloppy shrug. "I just told him it was a Seeker thing and teleported away before he could ask any questions, so relax."
"Relax? Relax?!" I paused in attaching my cannons and gave him a long, hard look. "Our city's being attacked! What part of that can I relax about?!"
"The part where we kick Autobot afts?" Skywarp replied nonchalantly, lifting up a brow ridge.
For a long moment, I only stared at him, speechless. He tilted his helm to the side, and flashed me another grin. I eventually remembered that I was supposed to be mad at him, so I scowled and turned away, clipping my null rays in place. As much as I hated to admit it, Skywarp was right. Why was I so frantic when I knew the Autobots could not win? They might have snuck in through the sewers, but they sure as the pits could not send their entire army in that way. My military was strong. Vosian weaponry was at the pinnacle of precision and lethality. What was I worried about?
Vents spluttering with a deep sigh, I grabbed Skywarp's null rays from Thundercracker and threw them at the purple idiot. "Just put these on."
Skywarp caught his null rays, and gave them a once-over.
"Aww slag, they're brighter than I am!" He made a face.
"A lot of things are brighter than you are, Skywarp." I scoffed.
"What are you-…Hey!" Skywarp huffed, and I smirked in superiority. However, I did not dwell on it. There were more suitable times to snicker at my purple trine mate's expense.
"Enough idiocy. Put on your null rays." I got up from my berth as I instructed. Standing tall, my wings stretched to their full span, "I have a city to address."
Skywarp grumbled, but did as he was told.
As soon as my trine mates got ready, we went on our way to the main conference room of my tower, where the largest video monitor was. The transmission system had already been activated by the staff, settings tuned to a city-wide broadcast. The screen flickered on as soon as we arrived. Finding my designated spot, I tilted my helm back, and checked on my trine mates just to make sure they were in place as well.
Thundercracker smiled, signaling that he was ready, while Skywarp only nodded, standing up straighter. They stood still and in attention by my sides, flanking my wings in standard formation. Satisfied, I returned to the monitor, and tapped the record button. A light blinked at the bottom of the screen. It flashed several times, and became still. The transmission was in progress. I took a cycle of air through my intakes, and began:
"Citizens of Vos," I spoke with confidence, syllable clear and voice firm, "Seekers, Stealth Jets, Fighter Jets, Strikers, Cargo Shuttles, Space Shuttles," I addressed every frame type, from the smallest to the largest, "Proud fliers of Cybertron," I paused for a klik, and dipped my helm in slight humility, "…The wind that carries my wings.
"Our planet is on the verge of a break-through. Our world is changing. The old way is no longer efficient in bringing happiness and prosperity to our society. The old way must be renewed." I clenched my fists. "Change is inevitable. A new era is upon us, an era where fliers reign supreme over the sky above every city on Cybertron!" I beamed into the camera, holding the note of our pending victory. "…However," My expression slowly soured, voice lowering to a growl, "There are still those who continue to cling onto the dwindling embers of the already dying Golden Age. Pathetic fools – weaklings," I narrowed my optics, "Who have no place in the New Age Cybertron is long overdue for.
"The Autobot Senators have issued an attack on our home, our glorious city of Vos. They cower in their capital, hiding behind their accumulated greed and filth while their soldiers crawl through our sewers in attempts to sneak up on us. It is…with absolute sorrow that I admit they have partially succeeded," I bowed in apology, helm lowering. "I did not expect these dirty ground pounders to sink as low as they have," I scowled, gritting my dentae. "However," My optics flashed, and I straightened, wings stretching upward, "They will not catch us off guard again." I promised my fliers, schooling my expression back to that of determination.
"War is upon us, but fear not: we are ready." I took a step forward, and held my fist before me, fingers digging tighter into my palm. "Our soldiers are fast and strong. Our weapons aimed and ready at all those who'd dare attempt invading our city. Our military prowess is immeasurable. Our technology remains supreme. Our strength and resilience are unmatched." My wings gave a sharp flick on my back, rising ever higher.
"We fight," I peered into the camera, gaze bright and unyielding while my spark flared inside my spark chamber, "For Cybertron, for righteousness, for Vos," Pausing, I smiled.
"For us."
I allowed time for my words to fully sink in before I continued my speech.
"As your ruling monarch of our grand, magnificent city, I, Starscream, swear to you," I looked straight into the recording lens, "As your Crown Prince, I will keep our city safe from Autobot tyranny."
My voice echoed in the conference chamber, their weight a simmering tinge in the air.
"My fliers, my citizens," I opened my arms wide to the side, and curled my hands into tight fists, optics narrowing:
"We will prevail."
With a comm. command, the recording session ended. I slowly lowered my arms, and they hung at my sides, dangling limply. Heaving a deep sigh through my vents, I took a moment just to give my wings a stretch before turning to my trine mates.
"Now that's done, let's go to the highest flight deck. I need a good vantage point to keep visual track of my city."
I led my trine mates to the top of my tower, and took a cloak from one of the guards. Throwing it on, I walked out into the rain, and stood at the end of the deck. I surveyed my city. The west quadrant remained the most active. I could vaguely see interior guards helping the medics with rescuing civilians from the fallen towers, and the search lights used by patrols were still scanning the water for invaders.
The hovercrafts were getting closer. Their numbers were startling. I could not see much beyond the first line of ships, as everything beyond that was still a blur of shadows. There could have been more ships, or there could have not. I could only guess at the number of soldiers the Autobots had sent to their deactivation.
:Stormstrike, report.: I pinged my border control officer and Striker general.
:All hail Prince Starscream,: Stormstrike replied quickly, :Autobot hovercrafts have been spotted in all direction, surrounding our city. They still have not made any attempts to explain their presence, despite our numerous requests at establishing contact. Their intention, however, is clear. The estimated number of hovercrafts is approximately in the range of one hundred and fifty to two, attached vehicles unknown. The scouting Stealth Jets have yet reported any Autobots on the ground, so it is safe to assume all soldiers are currently in the crafts themselves. We are ready for retaliation upon receiving your order, Sire.:
:Good,: I peered through the rain at the Autobot ships. :How long until they reach our defense network?:
:Countdown initiated – Autobots approaching primary proximity in one point three-four breems, your Highness.:
:Status of missile launchers?:
:All exterior weapon systems have been activated, Sire.:
:Very well. Alert all Striker teams to be on station and ready to take off.: I glared at the hovercrafts. :As foolish as the Autobots are, they will not attack our city without putting up coordinate-scramblers of some design to deflect long-range artilleries, which means sending in our fliers for close air combat is inevitable.:
:Affirmative, Sire. Striker teams have already been stationed at take-off decks of the outer labyrinth wall. The force-field deflection system has also been fully activated to keep all gunfire from breaching our border.:
Pleased with Stormstrike's efficiency, I allowed a smirk to appear on my faceplate.
:Very good, Stormstrike. We will wait for the Autobots to trigger our missiles first. No need to fly out if they truly are idiots.:
:Affirmative, Sire.:
:Keep our comm.-line open. I want to know every update.:
:Affirmative, your Highness.:
I kept close optics on the hovercrafts. They have yet made any move aside from slowly advancing on my city. I could hear the faint clicks of Stormstrike's countdown as the crafts floated closer, and sent out a chortle of a huff through my vents. Did these Autobots honestly think such slow-moving slagheaps could pose a challenge for my fliers?
:Ten kliks to primary proximity, Sire.
:…Five.
:Four.
:Three.
:Two.
:One.
:Contact.:
Deafening roars erupted from the outer perimeter of my city. The ground shook, booming vibrations muffled by the rain. Bursts of light brightened the sky as missiles shot upward, piercing through the air toward the Autobot ships. However, before they could hit the hovercrafts, they veered off course, crashing into the ground. Just as I expected, the Autobots had scramblers. Large craters appeared as the missiles exploded upon contact with Cybertron's surface, and I made an annoyed hum.
I had liked the surrounding terrain of Vos without craters.
:Missiles are ineffective, Sire.:
:I see it. Deploy Striker teams.:
:Affirmative, your Majesty.:
A low, groaning sound answered my command, heralding the first opening of heavy gates in vorns. The outer shell of the labyrinth wall lifted, and, against the lingering light of missile explosions, I could see the shapes of my Strikers shooting off in formation into the distance. Strikers were not the fastest of fliers, but they were maneuverable and sturdy. They carried some of the heaviest weaponry on their wings, ones that made a wonderful mess of things.
I watched them fly off, and waited with bated breath for the first firework.
It happened on my right, a sudden flare of bright light and flames on one of the Autobot hovercrafts. The stuttering moan of an engine reached my audials, and immediately, the hovercraft began to lose altitude. More explosions dotted the horizon, and the Autobots began to fight back, drawing weapons from their ships.
"Oooo, pretty!" Skywarp commented, and I glanced at him with a brow-ridge raised. His optics shined, and he wore a big grin on his faceplate. "Can I go, Star? Can I go?" He bounced on his peds, and I scrunched my nose bridge at his immature behaviour.
"No, Skywarp, and stop hopping around like a sparkling!" I barked at him before turning back to watch the battle. So far, only two hovercrafts seemed to be having troubles keeping afloat. The Autobots were still advancing. It would seem that they were speeding up. Feeling antsy, were they?
:Report, Stormstrike.: I sent out an impatient ping.
:Affirmative, your Highness,: Stormstrike responded with haste, :The hovercrafts have thick armour. The Striker teams are currently trying to penetrate it to expose inner components.:
:What of the Autobots?:
:They've engaged their cannons, and sniper compartments have been opened. There has been no casualty so far, though there have been six injury reports.:
Lucky shots, no doubt. I crossed my arms over my chassis, and waited impatiently for more hovercrafts to fall.
There was a sudden string of explosions across the sky, a ribbon of fire. My wings jerked. My frame tensed. What the slag was that? Nothing Vosian could have done such a spectacle, but the Autobots did not own anything that could have—
:…Sire,: Stormstrike's voice, heavy with shock, interrupted my musing.:Striker team three has been brought down.:
I felt my optics widen.
:What?: I asked disbelievingly, :Brought down? The entire team?:
:Affirmative.: Stormstrike replied, tone tight.
What in the pits…? How could an entire team of my Strikers be brought down at once?!
:Stormstrike, talk to me!:
:Apologies, Sire.: Stormstrike paused, during which I shifted anxiously on my peds. His voice was lower than usual when he resumed speaking, his words more strained. :Striker team three has fallen to the ground, your Highness.: He reported,:Two casualties upon impact. All remaining members have lost ability for flight. Their wings…have been disabled.:
:Wings disabled?: I scowled, irritation sweeping over my spark, :What does that mean, Stormstrike? How did it happen?!:
:Critical damage, Sire. Cause of such injury is unknown at current time. There was a scattering discharge. That was all I saw. Investigation is ongoing. Streaming video analysis.:
Stormstrike stopped. For several kliks, our comm. connection was dead silent. Slowly, the explanation came trickling in. My general began to describe what he'd seen, and, to my growing alarm, he sounded…unsure.
:…Your Highness, the discharge came from a…platform, on top of the hovercraft. Mounted on the platform is a barrel-like structure.:
I gnawed on my lips.
:We are unable to match it with any known Autobot weaponry, Sire. It seems to be a launcher…with a cannon-like barrel, connected to a rectangular base. New reports have come in. Some suggest that this is perhaps new weaponry from th—Slag!:
Another string of explosions slashed across the sky. My intakes hitched. My wings shook. I could only watch, optics wide and fists trembling by my sides.
"What the frag…?!" I heard Skywarp exhale an exclamation from my left. I knew he was asking me what was happening, but I could not afford to pay him attention.
:Striker teams five and seven are down, Sire! Whatever the pit those things are, Strikers Jets are incapable of maneuvering around them! Permission to discard heavy weaponry, your Highness! Perhaps a lighter weight can—:
Fire, like lightning, sliced across the horizon. It was almost beautiful, explosions bleeding into each other, flashing lines in the sky. I could see the battered forms of my Strikers falling, leaving a burning trail as they dropped behind the labyrinth walls. My vents stuttered when they disappeared from view, the impacting thud of their crash landing swallowed by cannon fire.
:Teams two, six, and eight are down, your Highness!:
"Star…?" Thundercracker called out. His soft inquiry wavered.
My fingertips dug into my palms.
:How are the Autobots bringing down entire teams of my Strikers?!: I shouted into my comm., dentae gritted. :How, Stormstrike?!:
:Results of visual analysis have just arrived, Sire.: Stormstrike answered without missing a beat. :The scattering discharge appears to be a cloud of small bombs, possibly with scouting abilities. Upon contact with one flier, the bombs find the others, targeting specifically for the wings. I've never seen anything like it.:
My spark froze. I stared out at the battle far away from my tower, processors stunned to blank.
:…Your Majesty?: Stormstrike hesitantly prompted after a lengthy silence over our line. :Sire? Do you receive?: He sent me another ping. :…Prince Starscream?:
…Firechaser…
…The wounds on Firechaser's wings.
I could see them, hideous lacerations blistering over the once smooth plating of what every member of Firechaser's family unit had been so proud of. A Seeker sparked from a Space Shuttle gene pool, everyone had been so pleasantly surprised. Nightfire had held Firechaser in his arms, and he had laughed, for the first time since Skyfire's deactivation.
Firechaser was special, a Seeker with Space Shuttle origins. The Autobots had captured him, and experimented on him, running test after test on his torn, battered frame. They had sampled his genetic coding, one that contained the schematics for both the smallest and the largest fliers of Cybertron. The Autobots were developing anti-flight weaponry on Firechaser, and now, I knew:
They had succeeded.
:Half of Striker teams have been brought down, Sire! The Autobot hovercrafts are entering secondary proximity to Vos. Requesting clearance for Fighter Jet deployment!: Stormstrike's voice cut through my thoughts, loud and rushed in my audials. I jolted, optics rebooting.
:Clearance granted, Stormstrike,: I ran a deep cycle of air through my system, and shook my helm clear. :Bring in Bladeflight.:
:Affirmative, Sire. Comm.-frequency forwarded.:
:Bladeflight reporting. All hail Prince Starscream.: Bladeflight's voice came through the link, slightly agitated but firm.
:Status?: I tossed all formalities aside, and asked.
:Primary Fighter teams are in position for take off, Sire. Secondary teams on standby.:
:Good, take off immediately, and watch out for those Primus-damned scatter bombs.: I narrowed my optics, and cursed the ground pounders in my processors. In the distance, another wave of my fliers took off. Fighter Jets swerved and flipped in the air, dodging the Autobots' aim with ease. They shot at the engines, left exposed by the Strikers' previous attack, and several hovercrafts were hit, falling from the sky, their descent languid and slow amidst an ocean of fire.
:Video surveillance spots ground pounders leaping out of their hovercrafts, Sire.: Stormstrike informed me immediately.
:Jumping from such altitude? They're going to crush their peds.: I brushed the matter aside, :Leave them to their deactivation, and concentrate on bringing down the other hovercrafts.:
:Affirmative, Sire.: Bladeflight replied alongside Stormstrike.
The Autobots were closer. The massive forms of their floating ships were dark shadows that loomed from the flames, inching toward my city's labyrinth wall. I could hear explosions from all direction, the firing of cannons and sniper rifles adding to the thunderous roar of noise. The Fighter Jets sang as they soared in the air, weaving between the laser fire and blasts. More hovercrafts were brought down, but many remained airborne, though their peeling armour left many vital components exposed.
:Where's Ramjet?: I broke the silence of our comm.-line while both generals were concentrating on their troops. :The protective shells have weakened enough to send in lighter frame-types.:
:Forwarding Ramjet, your Highness.: Stormstrike responded instantly, and another comm.-link aligned to our frequency.
:Ramjet reporting. Hail.:
I scowled.
:Can't you at least address me properly, you arrogant aft-helm?: I bit out, :Just who are you hailing?:
:Who else but you, my Prince?:
I could practically hear Ramjet's infuriating grin taking over his faceplate. It annoyed me, but I did not berate him further. If he had the time to be a slagger, then the battle must have been turning in our favour.
: Prepare to dispatch secondary Fighter teams and Conehead Seekers.: Ignoring Ramjet's response, I instructed my generals as whole. :I don't care what strategy you use, bring down the hovercrafts at all costs, leave none flight-capable.:
:Affirmative, your Highness,: Bladeflight answered, :Secondary Fighter teams readying for take off. Bladeflight requesting permission to participate, Sire.:
:Granted.:
:All Coneheads in position. Ramjet also requesting participation, oh glorious Princeship.:
:Don't get too cocky.: I warned, but did not negate his request.
:Hovercrafts approaching critical proximity.: Stormstrike reported.
:Dispatch all teams on station.: I immediately instructed. :No Autobot ship will touch my city's labyrinth wall!:
:Affirmative.: They all answered, and I watched as more jets shot off into the air.
"Hey! That's Ramjet with his fliers!" Skywarp's voice caught my attention, and I turned around. He was pointing toward the east. "If he's out flying, does that mean I get to join in soon?" He swirled his helm around, and his optics shimmered, hopeful and expectant.
"This isn't a game, Skywarp," I frowned, pursing my lips. "We're not breaking into some Autobot prison. We're protecting our home." I replied with a dry voice, giving him a hard stare.
"That's just more reason for me to join!" Skywarp spoke as though stating the obvious.
"For Primus's sakes, Skywarp, Strikers were brought down!" I sneered at him, irate and somewhat incredulous, "They won't be rescued until the entire battle is over, and all you can think about is having fun?"
"That's the point, Star!" He retorted heatedly, "Revenge!"
Before I could smack him on the helm and give him a piece of my processors on just how much I appreciated his immaturity, a cacophony of explosions detonated all around my city. A little startled, I looked to the perimeter, and, with dawning elation, realized that it had come from dozens of hovercrafts were brought down. Flames and smoke spewed out from the bulky aircrafts, and they crashed with much dramatics as they hit Cybertron's surface. Metal walls crumbled. Support struts snapped apart. Groaning shrieks sliced through the noise of battle, sharp and piercing as the ships collapsed on itself upon impact. The sheer volume of their demise left me speechless and amazed, watching the proceedings with round, delighted optics.
:Status, Stormstrike?: I hastily asked, impatient for good news.
:Currently receiving data from report stations on city perimeter, your Highness. Please wait for a brief moment.: Stormstrike went silent for a few kliks. :Total hovercraft count – one hundred and sixty-two. Fifty-six fully functional, twenty-seven with partial damage, twenty-nine dropping in altitude, fifty with complete engine failure.:
Any satisfaction I might have felt at seeing the Autobot hovercrafts falling to their doom evaporated in an instance. I spat out a curse. Fifty was not enough. Not nearly enough.
:Starscream to Bladeflight and Ramjet,: I sought for my generals, :Double your efforts. You heard Stormstrike – there are still fifty-six hovercrafts without considerate damage. They must not reach the labyrinth!:
:Affirmative, Sire!: Bladeflight answered, voice tense but focused.
:Don't worry, Star,: Ramjet's growled response was next to reach my audials. :I'll bring down the slaggers for you.:
:Don't do anything stupid, Ramjet.: I felt a cold trickle of nervousness seep through my spark.
:Risks are necessary for victory, Sire.:
:Ramjet, what are you—:
A holler of surprise jolted me out of my comm.:
"Holy slag! Look at Ramjet!" Skywarp bounced on his thrusters, and waved at both Thundercracker and I. Snapping around on my heels, I followed Skywarp's pointing index finger, and spotted Ramjet slicing through the open the air, shooting straight for a hovercraft. The white Seeker jet rolled and dived through a web of flying missiles and blasts, a team of Coneheads on his tailfins, just behind his trine mates. They protected their general, covering him as he made a wide arch around the ship. His intention was clear, nosecone dipped toward the exposed engines.
To my growing alarm, an Autobot sniper caught sight my Seekers, and aimed the strange contraption that had brought down several Striker teams straight at my general.
What the frag was Ramjet doing?!
:Ramjet! Desist at once!: I shouted into my comm., :Are you fragging crazy?! You can't bring down an entire hovercraft all by yourself!:
The Autobot followed Ramjet's flight path. The barrel of his strange weapon began to charge.
:General Ramjet!: Bladeflight cried out, having noticed the sniper as well, but it was too late. The Autobot fired, and I could only watch, spark frozen and optics widened, as a cloud of small, sparking projectiles slashed through the rain and wind, hurtling toward my Conehead general.
All Seekers around Ramjet dispersed in a single klik. Ramjet himself was a surge of speed as he flipped in the air, left wing barely avoiding the first group of projectiles. However, to my utter dismay, his sudden veer caused him to dash straight into another mist of glinting clutter.
:Ramjet!: I screamed into our line, and heard Thundercracker mirror my call beside me. I could only stare in absolute horror, stiff and motionless on my thrusters as the small, flashing objects raced toward Ramjet, as though attracted by a magnetic pull.
Barely a klik from contact, Ramjet wrenched himself sideways, and transformed. Rolling in base mode, he lashed out with his arm, and struck one of the projectiles right on the back of his fist. The projectile clanged against his plating, the impact too brief and forceful for it to latch onto the Conehead. It flew off course, and slammed against the wing of the hovercraft, yanking all other projectiles to shoot for the Autobot ship.
They clung onto the hovercraft's wing, and detonated. Thrown off balance, the craft tilted, and began to fall from the sky.
"…Whoa." Skywarp exclaimed after a short lapse of silence. "Primus-be-damned," He laughed a little, amazement clear in his quiet huffs, "That was kinda kick-aft!"
"More like impulsive and dangerous," Thundercracker heaved a sigh, giving his helm a slight shake "What if it didn't work and the bomb stuck on his arm?"
"Well, it did work." Skywarp shrugged.
My wings twitched, and started to sag from their anxious perch. The joints in my frame slowly lost their tension, and a breath left my vents, soft and minutely wavering. As impressive as Ramjet's aerobatics were, they hardly spelled a shining example of military conduct. I did not want any hot-helmed, young recruits getting excited by the action and imitating his reckless behaviour.
:Ramjet reporting success, your Highness.: As I expected, the slagger was more smug than a narcissist on highgrade.
:No one asked you to risk your wings, you fool! Do not do that again!: I hissed, rubbing my faceplate to dispel the lingering worry.
:Aww, were you worried about me, prince Starscream?: Ramjet spoke with a sickening coo, inciting a sneer from my faceplate. :Perhaps as reward to commend me on my exceeding bravery in battle, you'll finally agree to my offers at being my eternal bondma—:
:-Your Highness!: Stormstrike's sudden cry of shock instantly chilled our comm., :Ground pounders! From the crashed hovercrafts!:
:What is it?: I inquired with haste.
:Some of them remain functioning, Sire, and they are—th-they are—: Stormstrike's voice rose, gaining the gritted edge of rage, :They are attacking our fallen soldiers!:
My intakes hitched. My spark clenched in dread.
:How's that possible…?!: I could hardly believe what I was hearing. :They should've perished with their hovercrafts!:
:It's possible that compartments deep inside the crafts are undamaged from the crash. The number of survivors appears to be slim, but they are assaulting our wounded!:
:I see them!: Bladeflight cut in with a string of curses. :The Strikers, they are being torn apart, Sire!:
:The sick fraggers!: Ramjet's livid cry shook me to my core, and anger, pure, igniting fury, overtook my spark.
:Shoot them down! Shoot them down!: I bit down on my jaw-joints, and trembled so violently that my trine mates were rendered speechless, looking at me with great concern and slight apprehension. I completely evicted military protocol from my processors, until the only thought left was of my helpless, injured fliers, who were being mercilessly ripped apart by the hands of the Autobots.
:All Seeker teams, prepare for take off!: I commanded, glaring out at the flames with slitted optics.
:Forgive my impudence, your Highness, but the Autobot hovercrafts are of more pressing concern.: Bladeflight spoke up in protest, and his line buzzed with static every time an explosion brightened the dark sky. :We cannot afford to divide our forces at the current time. Any divergence of focus is disagreeable to the strategies currently utilized in defense of our city. If I may suggest, you Majesty, we could perhaps—:
:-I am not asking for suggestions, Bladeflight!: I cut him off, tone thin-edged and frustrated by his lack of compliance.
:Sire, we cannot break protocol—:
:Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, general! Last time I checked, there was no protocol for senseless slaughter in our military code!:
I knew I should not have shouted. I knew I should not be allowing emotion to dictate my orders. However, that was all I could do, unable to stand the thought of leaving those defenseless to the cruel whims of those who stood strong in their element.
:Affirmative, Sire.: Bladeflight replied, respectful but curt. Before he even finished speaking, Ramjet was already free-falling downward, transforming back to jet-mode and cannons blazing.
:Seekers in preparation, Sire.: Stormstrike reported after a somewhat awkward silence on our line.
:Good. Keep me updated.: Putting the line aside for a moment, I turned to my trine mates.
"Thundercracker, Skywarp, the Seeker teams are readying to be dispatched, and I want you to join them, only to bring down the hovercrafts, understood?" I sent Skywarp a pointed look, "Especially you, don't get distracted. The main objective is still grounding the ships. Let Bladeflight and Ramjet take care of the Autobots attacking the Strikers."
"Affirmative." Thundercracker answered with a small nod. Skywarp looked like he wanted to argue, probably so that he could join in on shooting down the grounders, but a nudge from our blue trine mate silenced him. He grumbled, but nodded as well.
"Good," I dipped my helm down once, "Teleport to border control main command center and meet with Stormstrike. He will inform you the details and assign you to teams. Now hurry, we don't have much time." Our optics held for a brief klik. "And by Primus, don't stray alone."
Without further delay, Skywarp grabbed Thundercracker, and they both disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Now by myself on my topmost flight deck, I looked out to my city, and took another sweep of the perimeter.
The Autobots were close to the labyrinth wall, but they have been significantly slowed down. Most of their hovercrafts were no longer floating in the sky, and the ones that remained were smoking in at least one place. The battle was still raging, but my civilians were safe, and for that, I allowed myself a cycle of air. Even if the Autobots were to try firing long-range projectiles, they would not succeed. The deflection force field was up, invisible but impenetrable. I could see my soldiers darting in and out of discharging blasts. More Autobot air-ships began to lose altitude, and my spark warmed a little, pride stroked brighter by emerging relief.
:Stormstrike reporting, Sire.: The voice of my Striker-Jet general pulled me out of my musings.
:Speak.:
:I've assigned Royal Wing-Right Thundercracker and Wing-Left Skywarp to appropriate teams. We await your clearance for take off, your Highness.:
:Granted.: I replied immediately, :And keep me posted on the status of our troops.:
:Affirmative, Sire.:
Another wave of jets left the outer perimeter wall, and more explosions wrecked havoc on the Autobot hovercrafts. I continued to watch the distant battle, and kept my optics keen for my trine mates. A ping sounded from my comm., alerting me of another pending comm.-request. I debated whether or not I should take it, since the battle was top priority, but, after deliberation, I decided to answer. After all, the matter must be important if it was being brought up to me now.
:Make it quick. I haven't much time.: I pushed all formalities aside, wanting the matter dealt with.
:Nightfire reporting, Sire. There's a situation at sector twenty-two of the western quadrant.:
Nightfire? I frowned, not expecting to hear from him. The Space Shuttle was not involved with the military, so there was no reason for him to be so far out in the city.
:What are you doing all the way over there?:
:There seemed to a clogging problem with the drainage system under the labyrinth, so I was notified. However, I don't think that's the problem.: Nightfire spoke over the hissing static, voice urgent over the stuttering noise. :I ran at least a dozen of scans. No abnormality came up at all. None of the sensors within the system can detect anything, but there's definitely something inside the pipes.:
I let out an annoyed huff, lips curling into a scowl.
:I don't have the time right now to worry about clogged sewers, Nightfire! And what's with your comm.?:
:No, Star, you have to listen!: Nightfire insisted, ignoring my question. :Whatever that's clogging up the pipes is not supposed to be there, and it's dodging even the most sensitive of scanners. I think we should reopen drainage to full capacity, reroute the water, and check that pipe.:
:Reopen the drainage system? Have you glitched?!: I snapped, :That's how the Autobots came into our city in the first place!:
:Yes, but—:
:That's enough! I don't have the time to bother with sewers when I have cannons blasting right outside my city's walls!:
:But Starscream—:
:Your Highness,: Stormstrike's voice reached my audials, and I instantly put Nightfire on hold. :Casualty count has just come in. Strikers Jets – sixty-two injured, fifteen deactivated; Fighter Jets – forty-six injured, twelve deactivated; Conehead Seekers – thirty-nine injured, fifteen deactivated; Seekers – nine injured, twenty-three deactivated.:
I winced, offlining my optics and taking in a hitched gasp.
:Based on data received from report stations around the perimeter, all Autobot hovercrafts have been incapacitated.: Stormstrike continued on, professionalism replacing sentimentality. :Most are dropping in altitude, but there are several that remain functional. May I suggest a next course of action, Sire?:
:Speak.: My voice was soft as I rubbed my faceplate and looked out to the distance, where my fliers were fighting and getting hurt. Every number weighed down my spark, but I pushed the throbbing aside for now. There will be time to mourn for my city's loss later. To see victory, I must keep my processors clear.
:Our forces are divided at the moment, your Majesty. I understand your wish to protect our wounded, but the ground pounders attacking them will not be able to pass our labyrinth.: Another ping from Nightfire sounded, and, irritated, I pushed it aside.
:Continue, Stormstrike.:
:Affirmative, Sire. I suggest we do as General Bladeflight had suggested before: focus all firepower at bringing down the remainder of the Autobot hovercrafts. They have entered critical proximity, your Highness, which prioritizes them above all else.:
That might have been true, but even the slightest neglect would result in more deaths at the hands of the ground pounders. I pressed my lips together, and looked down at my city's towers. I needed to decide, fast. Either way, I did not have much time at all.
Nightfire sent me another ping, and I growled, shoving it off.
What in the pits was so urgent about a clogged sewer line?!
:Prince Starscream?: Stormstrike prompted. He was polite, but I knew my time was up.
:You have my permission to proceed.: My wings quivered as I answered. I fought hard to not think about my injured soldiers, grounded and vulnerable. They had little chance of escaping merciless termination from Autobots, as they were few, faced by many. :Starscream to Ramjet and Bladeflight,: My fists shook as I addressed my generals, :Focus all firepower on remaining hovercrafts.:
:Affirmative, Sire.: Bladeflight replied, tone carrying little emotion. Ramjet swore, but he did not argue.
:Be quick about it.: I could not help adding, and almost swung a fist when Nightfire sent me yet another ping, followed by two more.
:What is it, Nightfire!?: I shouted, reopening my other comm.-line.
:The sensors are picking up strange readings from the drainage pipe, Star!: Nightfire sounded awfully anxious about that pipe. :I don't know what the readings mean, but they're coming from whatever that's inside.:
Oh for Primus's sakes, why in the pits was he so panicky about the sewers?!
:Nightfire—I don't have time for this slag! I'm fighting a war and all you want to do is pester me about a malfunctioning—:
My fuel pump stopped.
The energon in my lines froze to ice, and my spark almost spluttered from existence as realization punched me straight in the gut.
:…Nightfire…: My voice began to shiver. :Get out of there.:
:…Star?:
:Get out of there, Primus-damn-it! Now!: I screamed into the comm.-line, trembling so hard that the water on my cloak was shaken off, splattering onto the flight deck. :Get out of there! Get everyone out of there!:
:S-Star, what are you—:
:For frag's sakes, Nightfire! Evacuate now! Evacuate! Get everyone—:
Explosion.
Audial-splitting.
The comm.-line squealed in feedback, and I cried out, clutching the sides of my helm.
The sheer force of the sound alone was enough to throw my cloak flapping behind me as I shielded my faceplate from the onslaught of rain. A massive wave of invisible energy lashed out in all direction, and the resulting boom shattered all glass in my city. It was so loud that my comm.-link screeched into static, and I clutched my audials, dentae gritting in pain. I was almost blown off from the flight deck by the hurricane accompanying the aftershock. Through narrowed optics, I peered out at the perimeter, and saw the Autobot hovercrafts waver in the air, hulking forms mere flickers of shadow behind the blinding light.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
All gunfire ceased.
For a long moment, I was afraid to move, afraid to think, afraid to place my optics in the direction Nightfire had been.
My arms were shaking as I slowly lowered them. I turned, forcing my neck cables to tilt toward the western quadrant of my city. My intakes stuttered. My wings quivered. I finally gathered enough courage to face the outcome of such a blast, and looked out at sector twenty-two.
Destruction.
I looked, and all I could see was complete, utter destruction.
An entire block of my labyrinth was destroyed, leaving only a jagged canyon falling to flat ground littered with debris. The western quadrant of my city was in shambles, proud, tall towers reduced to crumbled walls and broken support beams. The rain water that had accumulated flowed out through the enormous hole, exposing shattered foundations upon which many homes were built. The epicenter of the explosion must have been under the labyrinth, but regardless, my city suffered extensively because of it.
Silence.
Flat, penetrating silence.
Raindrops hit my cloak.
They pattered.
I stared at the dark, deep gouge that had once been sector twenty-two, a bustling residential district destroyed within an instance. It no longer glowed, a gaping black hole surrounded by flickering towers, swallowing the dim luminosity of my city.
There was a loud, splitting churn as the Autobot hovercrafts righted themselves. The burn-littered ships slowly turned, and they faced my city, my now vulnerable city.
:Prince Starscream!: Stormstrike's frantic voice sputtered through the buzzing static, ringing in my audials, :The deflection force field is down! We no longer have border protection! They're going to bomb the city! The Autobots are going to bomb the city!:
The large hovercrafts groaned to a stop, still, like statues etched in the sky.
:Sire!: Stormstrike continued to shout, words breaking from the interference. :The civilians must be evacuated! The civilians must be—:
A piercing shriek from the sky.
It startled me, breaking me from my stunned stupor.
A missile, thin, sharp-tipped, and elegant, cut through the air. It glinted under the light from my towers, my bright, glowing towers, and glided, graceful, like a free-falling Seeker.
It fell into the eastern quadrant of my city.
Red.
A great burst of ugly red.
As if awakened from a nightmare, noise returned with a deafening scream. I gasped, choking on a horrified cry as civilian towers were engulfed in flames.
How could this have happened?
How did…the Autobot break into my city…?
This was impossible.
This could not have happened!
My city was impenetrable!
And where on Cybertron did the Autobots get a bomb powerful enough to blow out an entire block of my labyrinth?!
Stormstrike was still trying to get my attention, but all I could do was stand on my flight deck and stare. More missiles rained from the sky, disfiguring my beautiful city with fire and explosions. Screams filled the air. Fliers rushed out of their homes. Frightened, panicking civilians made a complete mess of things. The interior guards tried to get everything under control, but even they did not know what to do. After all, I had not instructed them.
Nightfire.
Oh Primus…
Nightfire—
Nightfire had been at sector twenty-two when the bomb went off!
Nightfire…
My Nightfire!
Oh Primus—...!
My fingers clenched around my arms. I curled inward, shivering and stunned. My knee joints threatened to buckle. I could not command them to stay strong.
How could this have happened?
This was not how the battle was supposed to end!
And Nightfire…
Oh Primus—
Nightfire!
He could not have…
He could not have been—…
A small, static-filled noise left my vocalizer. I could not recognize what it was. It was not a whimper, not a sob, not a cry, and not a scream.
What sound does one make upon sight of destruction of his city?
I was on the verge of collapse, frame trembling as terror drenched through every crevice of my circuitry.
I had been careless.
I had been a fool.
I had given consent to the opening of the drainage system without any consideration of its possible consequences.
How could I…have agreed to such a thing…?!
And now…
Look at what carelessness and a fool had led to.
I offlined my optics, and lowered my helm. I concentrated on the cycling of air through my intakes system, and blocked out all else around me. I thought only of calming the erratic flaring of my spark. I could not afford to panic. I was the Crown Prince of my city. My fliers depended on me.
I had no time to dwell on mourning my failures and shame.
:Starscream to all interior guards,: I accessed the general comm.-line, forcing even my voice, :Initiate evacuation of civilians to northern quadrant of Vos. Upon completion, activate sectional deflection barrier. Ensure no civilian is to leave until instructed by me or another commanding officer. Deactivate all enemies on sight.:
Each quadrant of my city had its own force fields. It was not as strong or sturdy as the one surrounding Vos, but it would offer some protection.
:Stormstrike.: I called for my Striker General.
:Stormstrike reporting, Sire.:
:Inform all Strikers Jets, including border patrol teams, to enter battle. Shoot down all missiles leaving Autobot hovercrafts. Ensure no further harm to civilian districts.:
:Affirmative, your Highness.:
:Bladeflight.:
:Bladeflight reporting.:
:Bring down the hovercrafts. That is your mission and your only mission. You will not prioritize anything else until all hovercrafts have been grounded, understood?:
:Affirmative, Sire!:
:Ramjet.:
:I'm here, Star.:
:Bring back the Seekers. Be stationed and ready for combat. The Autobots will undoubtedly send their troops in through the opening of the labyrinth, and I suspect them to carry explosives. You will deactivate them before they can inflict any more damage.:
:Affirmative!: Ramjet answered, tone strong and loud. :All hail Prince Starscream!:
From a distance, I heard his verbal call echo the one in our comm.. More fliers followed his example, hailing my designation as their battle cries.
A shaky smile lifted the corners of my lips.
That was right. I was my city's prince.
This was not the time for wishful thinking, nor the time for what-could-have-beens. This was the time for me to lead my fliers to battle, and make sure we win.
My wings fanned out, stretching to their full span.
I had sworn that my city will prevail.
Then it will.
Straightening into a firm stance, I narrowed my optics at the horizon, at the hovercrafts.
The Autobots dared to enter my city's walls? Fine. Let them come.
I glared at their ships with all the vehemence I could conjure, and stepped forward to the edge of my take off deck.
Come.
My fists clenched.
And Vos would be their tomb.
Leaping off the flight deck, I transformed, and flew high into the sky. The cloak made loud flapping sounds as it clung to my frame, and battered against my plating, irritating the sensors. It was uncomfortable, and it lessened my maneuverability. However, it offered adequate protection, and anything was better than the biting caress of acid rain.
Cursed weather. I would have scowled if I could, shooting upward until I had full view of my city.
Shifting back to base mode, I hovered, and turned in all direction, scanning for the status of Vos. The interior guards had already begun evacuating the civilians. Large crowds of fliers of all frame types hurried toward the northern quadrant, fearful but obedient. The Strikers were steering the Autobot missiles off-course, shooting them down if rerouting them were not an option. The number of hovercrafts still afloat was dwindling. My Seekers have returned, flying below me as they watched for ground pounders hiding in the shadows of my city's foundations.
I kept an audial on the conversation between Stormstrike, Bladeflight, and Ramjet. An observatory report from the Fighter alerted all of us of a grounder invasion from the west, and I swirled around just in time to spot the wave of Autobots making their way through the rubble. Upon Ramjet's order, all Seekers surged in its direction, cannons and compact missiles readied for combat. However, despite the concentrated might of my Seeker troops, I was worried, as there was a lot more ground pounders left alive than I had anticipated. I hissed out a curse, bitten words swept away by the howling wind and the pattering rain. Those damned Autobots just would not die!
Transforming back into jet-mode, I dived down at full speed, the piercing screech of my engines announcing my arrival. Righting my nosecone, I flipped with a sharp swerve, and began to circle my city. I shot past my civilians, a mere blur over their helms, and they looked up, wings perking higher. "Fliers of Vos, you must remain calm!" I shouted to be heard. "This is not the end. We will have victory at the end of this battle!"
Veering upward, I flew past the Strikers Jets.
"All hail our city!"
Circling the perimeter, I garnered the attention of the Fighter Jets with a series of swift barrel rolls.
"All hail aerial supremacy!"
One wing pointing downward, I pushed my speed, slashing open the curtain of rain with my bright, sleek form. Explosions brightened the sky, and created cascading, fiery sparks that fell in the air, dazzling ornaments to the pit fire ravaging my beautiful, proud towers.
"All hail Vos!"
My voice rang over my city.
We will win.
My spark clenched inside my chassis.
By Primus, we must win.
Notes: Sewers: the bane of existence for all fortresses. But a city's got to drain out its rainwater, right? XD
Phew, what a relief! This chapter is finally out. It took quite a bit of rewriting to get it ready for posting, since I had to make some changes so that everything made sense. The rest of the battle for Vos will be in the next chapter. Starscream will be joining the action, though it might not be in a way one would expect.
A few characters from one of the previous chapters will also be making reappearances. ;)
Once again, huge thanks and much gratitude to my reviewers: 6MissSparklez9, Random523, Koluno1986, Deathtomushrooms, supergirl95, PwnKage, Ashcola17, Devlinn Reiko, Suki-Angel91494, DemonFoxGirl1000, Krazed Jetformer, lildevchick, Starcee138, loverofmythology, Cloud Kitsune17, MalevolentMask, The-writing-Mew, Skylark Starflower, KrazyMusician, aki. vn, Seve-902, XLizardXQueenX, rj545, and jul. Your reviews mean a lot, and they are huge motivators in helping me work on my story. Much love to you all!
Oh, and also: I'm a little unsure why this comes up, and if it's due to my slow updates, I'm really sorry. However, please do not stress yourself in thinking that I'm giving up on this story. I will never give up on this story. ;)
Let me know what you think? Hopefully, you weren't expecting this chapter to be on Vos, haha!
Reviews would be lovely. :/)