Transformers Galaxy Force: Thunder Storm

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers

Chapter 142

Dreadlock groaned as he entered his office, the expected mass amounts of paperwork waiting for him. He knew that since Galaxy Convoy had been attacked, that a great deal of the responsibilities the Soushireikan usually handled would pass on to him. He didn't like it, but knew it was for the best. A part of him was also afraid. If Nemesis Convoy could put Galaxy Convoy out of action this easily, what else was the shadow capable off?

He's a loose cannon, on that has to be dealt with quickly, he thought to himself as he sat down at his desk and began working.

-If we give him what he wants, it will be over.-

He shook the thought from his head. Ever since Nemesis Convoy's attack on the Alliance Council, there seemed to be a second voice inside his head, suggesting things that were opposite of what he felt.

It could be worse. Megalo Convoy had to have his optic rebuilt. It's a good thing he's so big; it made the operation easier, the Chairman thought.

-Stupid Titan. He shouldn't have interfered.-

"Shut up," Dreadlock growled to himself, feeling a massive headache building. He had been taking Data Defragmenting Meds to try and counter the migraines, but they didn't seem to do much. Still they helped. Maybe he needed to talk to First Gunner for something stronger.

-He will kill you eventually.-

The Chairman ignored the voice, but he couldn't seem to stop the feeling that he didn't need meds. He was supposed to be stronger than that.

-Fear no pain.-

He groaned, holding his head in his hands as his headache grew worse. He didn't need this.

-It cannot be escaped.-

Go away!

-Never. I am your destiny.-

Pain suddenly shot through him. Thoughts swirled in his head. He couldn't tell which were his, and which belonged to the voice.

Power. Absolute Power.

Corruption.

Power corrupts.

I'm in a position of power.

Use it to my advantage.

I can't abuse it.

Power requires discipline.

Discipline requires power.

Power controls; dominates.

Knowledge is Power.

The Matrix holds Power.

The Matrix...

The Matrix...

Matrix...

Darkness enfolded him. When he came to, nearly five hours had passed. He was lying on the floor of his office, and he felt like he had consumed five gallons of pure oil.

Now I know I need to see First Gunner, Dreadlock thought, picking himself up carefully as the room spun. By the time he was on his feet, the thought was forgotten, and he resumed working at his desk, wondering why he was on the floor in the first place.

Deep inside Fire Space, Nemesis Convoy laughed long and hard. Everything was going just the way he wanted it. Nothing could stop him.

Chromia, the only other one in the particular area, snorted, "By the time anything happens, the Cybertrons will notice, and you will be dead." She felt the air get knocked out of her as Nemesis Convoy used his right hand to push her against the wall. His fingers clutched her throat as he glared at her lustfully.

"If that is what you think, my dear, then perhaps I have been far too gentle in the past," he growled. "Perhaps I should remedy that."

Fear filled Chromia's optics, as she realized what he meant. "You won't get away with this," she gasped as his grip tightened around her neck. "I'll make sure of that!"

Nemesis Convoy threw her down to the ground – the rough rocks putting multiple dents in her back – and crawled on top of her, "I'd like to see you try it."

She would try, but in the end, she was only begging him to stop, her screams of pain echoing throughout Fire Space. None of the other Destrons were there, and no one heard.