XXXIII - Waves II
Earlier…
No one had noticed Seven's disappearance, save for Smokescreen. The white mech was concerned that he hadn't returned yet, but he was more focused on Bumblebee. Everyone that could watched the yellow mech and Megatron staring each other down. Ultra Magnus was still unconscious, but Bulkhead had pulled him away from the battle, keeping him mostly out of danger. Dreadwing wasn't doing so well, his servo pressed to the deep slash on his side. Everyone else was more or less alright, but they all were tiring.
"The young scout," Megatron sneered, "I finished you so easily the first time, so quickly! Though I think I should have removed more than your voicebox when I had the chance!"
"Megatron," Bumblebee began firmly, "you've oppressed and silenced the voices of an entire planet. Isn't that more than enough? The war drags on, but neither side is truly fighting to win anymore. We're all fighting to stay alive, because it's all we can do. This war has become our way of life." One could've heard a pin drop. "Can't you see? There will never be a winner. No one will emerge victorious. We've nearly wiped ourselves into extinction! The only true victory we can achieve," he preached, servos clenching, "is lasting peace."
"You make a compelling argument, Bumblebee," Megatron said. "However, could either side really forget the other's transgressions?" He glared at Optimus as he spoke.
"We'll never know unless we try. Starscream, Seven, and I are proof that bots can change, and earn each other's trust." Knock Out countered.
Optimus came forward and everyone—regardless of sides—parted to let him pass. The Prime came to a stop just out of reach of Megatron, and stood there for a tense, silent moment, neither speaking.
Megatron's stance shifted slightly, and Optimus transformed his blaster away, sheathing the Star Saber. "You once enlisted my help in saving this planet, now I ask of yours to save Cybertron." He extended his servo. "Our home can be restored to its former brilliance, given time. But Bumblebee is right," he glanced at the scout, a faint, grim smile gracing his faceplates, "our race must achieve lasting peace, or it all will be for naught."
"An impressive speech, Optimus. Say I were to humor your proposal," Megatron cocked his helm ever so slightly, his servos unwavering at his sides, but his gladiatorial sword did slide back into its sheath that was his arm. "this war has become the very essence of our race. Can any of us truly change our ways so easily, or be accepted by another?"
"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. One way or another, Megatron, your tyranny ends upon this very day. As Bumblebee said, you have deprived the whole of Cybertron of its voice, and oppressed those who serve you."
"But he would just try to conquer Cybertron all over again, and enslave or terminate anyone who doesn't pledge allegiance to him!"Arcee broke in.
"Is there a point to your bluster?" Dreadwing sneered.
Megatron's gaze shifted and he glared at the blue Seeker, "Silence! This is between us!" He boomed.
"No." Optimus rumbled. "This is between all of us. Arcee is right, a true example of what will result from your oppression," he growled, "was Starscream." All the Autobots tensed. "He had endured greater suffering than anyone I have known, at your servo. And yet, chose to serve the greater good and fight for what is right, rather than continue as a pawn in your twisted tyranny. You, the Decepticons, came into possession of the cure, but did not seek to trade it." He growled. "And yet, when he departed this life, he had no harsh words. No complaints. That," Optimus' servo reached further, "is what we all should strive to be like."
The Prime stood straighter, looking Megatron square in his scarlet optics, "You said that 'May the rightful leader of Cybertron be the last mech standing.' But neither of us is meant to lead Cybertron, even if that opportunity was to arise. End this day, for the good of our species, our planet, humanity, and the memories of all who have been lost." Optimus' servo trembled. "The war must end, as all things do."
"And when do you think such an alliance would end?" The warlord prodded snidely.
"I do not know, only that a temporary armistice is better than none at all." The Prime stated adamantly. "It could provide the foundation for lasting peace, if only we are willing to begin the journey to get there."
Everyone watched with bated breath as Megatron actually seemed to mull it over, slowly reaching for the other mech's servo.
"I do not wish to intrude, My Lord, however, I find it most illogical of you to side with the Autobots." A deep voice rang out from above the ring, on the lowest deck of the Nemesis. A large purple mech stood above the rest, glaring down at them through a single, large red optic.
Once Megatron had recovered from his brief shock along with everyone, he nodded to the cyclops above them. "Shockwave! This is quite an unexpected turn. I thought you had perished on Cybertron."
The purple mech joined them a moment later on the ring of the Omega Lock, striding over to his leader. "That conclusion is perfectly logical, given that I was left for scrap in the space bridge explosion years ago, due to Starscream's incompetence. I notice he is not present."
"He perished months ago, but that is something that we shall speak of in greater detail at the appropriate time," Megatron rumbled.
"But the space bridge exploded, how did you survive?" Arcee exclaimed, hostility entering her tone.
Shockwave looked at her, "I do not know." his tone, however, portrayed no sense of longing, he merely was stating a fact. "I awoke in the rubble years ago, blinded. But in time, I repaired my wounds and continued to work on my studies."
Optimus stepped in, "This changes nothing."
"Ah, but it does." Megatron countered, "We can utilize Shockwave's logical insight into current matters, can we not?"
"If that is what you wish, my Lord." The cyclops rumbled.
Optimus held his servo a fraction higher and stepped closer to the tyrant, "My appeal still stands. Megatron, is this ancient was still worth fighting, when so many comrades have been lost, and worlds destroyed? Now, we possess the power to restore Cybertron, but it all will be for nothing if our planet will only become ravaged once again."
Shockwave nodded slowly, "Your argument is… logical."
All optics were on Megatron, who clearly was considering it.
"My Lord, you cannot ally the Decepticons with these desecrators!" Dreadwing snarled between gritted denta, the wound on his side clearly tormenting him. "They have no notion of honor, accepting traitors into their midst like long-lost allies! They will never maintain a lasting peace, even if we were capable of achieving it!"
"Which is why your cooperation is essential, Dreadwing." The warlord rumbled, turning on him. "Whatever decision that will be made must be unanimous–"
"Then terminate me, here and now, for I no longer wish to be a part of either side." he growled, his grip on his side tightening.
"Do not interrupt me!" the warlord barked.
The blue Seeker straightened, though it looked painful for him. "I will serve you no longer, nor you, Prime." He snarled. "A shadow of disgrace has been cast over both factions." And with that statement, he transformed, making to fly off, but Megatron grabbed his wing. The large jet jerked to a sudden stop.
Megatron threw him to the floor and he transformed, struggling to his pedes. The servo clutching his side which grew blue. "I stand by what I said."
"Then you shall die by it." The warlord said scathingly, and powered up his fusion cannon. Before anyone could do anything, the blue Seeker had a large hole clean through the center of his chest plate. He fell forward, surprised yellow optics offlining.
Everyone watched in shocked silence, aghast. But Megatron displayed no remorse, as if this was a regular occurrence among his ranks.
"Are you still going to appeal to him!" Bulkhead growled, swinging his helm over to his leader. "After that?!" he gestured with his wrecking ball at the blue mech's chassis. Optimus didn't answer, watching as Megatron walked over to Dreadwing's chassis. He heaved it up and deposited it into the swirling cyber-matter, watching as it was restored. The blue Seeker's optics finally onlined, and the warlord extended a servo. Dreadwing, looking briefly confused, took it.
"Let that be a lesson to all that dare oppose me," he rumbled, dropping his servo.
Everyone watched, many with jaws agape, as Optimus strode back over to the silver mech. His optics sparked with something steely, something that hadn't been there before. "Disband the Decepticons and join us in achieving lasting peace for our race, Megatron. Given what we just witnessed, I cannot tolerate another minute of your ruthless tyranny."
Shockwave nodded from behind the warlord. "Your reasoning is logical."
But Megatron already had the Prime's servo in a firm grip, staring him in the optics.
"We stand at the dawn of a new age," the red mech began.
"One of peace?" the warlord affirmed.
"Indeed, Megatron."
Shockwave stared me down with that eerie, single red optic of his. He addressed Megatron in an almost harsh tone, "You told me he was offline."
The warlord didn't drop his servo, but all helms swiveled over to me. I suddenly felt scared beneath all the pairs of optics drilling into me. "Indeed, Shockwave. But his clone is the mech standing before you."
"Explain. Now." My fists clenched, inviting anyone to answer. No one did. I felt like screaming, my helm swimming with questions, fear, anger, shock, and a seething mix of other emotions.
"Shockwave somehow survived," Smokescreen began, leering at the purple cyclops, "it sounded to me like there was an explosion a while ago."
"Not about that!" I barked. "Is everyone making nice?!" my voice took on a shrill note, "All the lives lost, and no one wins! THIS WAR HAS BEEN IN VAIN?!" I screamed.
"Seven, control yourself." Optimus commanded harshly.
"HAS NONE OF THIS BEEN WORTH IT?" I screeched, ignoring him. "The battles, the scars, the bots lost, Cybertron, for frag's sake—and no one wins?!"
"No one will ever win, Seven." Bumblebee stated somberly, "Peace is the only victory we can hope for."
I transformed out a blaster, "Oh, really? Because when I left, you all were furiously trying to terminate each other. Megatron even succeeded with you!" I barked at the yellow scout, "And now you're clamoring for some deluded illusion of peace? It will never happen!" my febrile gaze fell onto the Prime and warlord.
"Sev, you're acting like you've got scrap for a processor!" Arcee spat. I turned on her, slowly beginning to power up my blaster.
"Seven, remember what Starscream said?" Knock Out asked, snatching up my attention. "He realized the war wasn't getting anyone anything–" the red mech gestured with his servo as he spoke, "–just dragging on and on while preventing any sort of progress from being made."
That was a low blow. "Yes, and he was half off his helm with fever at the time!"
"Does it matter what state he was in?" Bulkhead broke in, "He was right! Maybe we were fighting for something in the beginning—against Megatron's rule, control of energon, but what does it matter now? If we make an alliance, we'll all have as much of the stuff as we want!"
"Yet another sound argument for merging factions," Megatron said, smirking.
"You both agree, don't you?" I said quietly, looking from Optimus to Megatron and back. "You actually agree with each other."
The unlikely pair finally let go of the other's servo, though who did it first, I couldn't tell. Optimus' stance seemed to shift, he was addressing all of us now. "We shall conference later at a more formal time and place, the two of us and anyone who wishes to come. For the moment, wounds need to be tended to, and there are other matters to be addressed." His stern, azure gaze fell onto me at that. I felt my wings ruffle, an uncomfortable line of fear trickling down my spinal struts.
"As soon as possible, before anyone has a chance to change their minds." Bumblebee added, oblivious to how the Prime's gaze almost looked sinister. Almost. Everyone seemed to agree with him. I huffed and retrieved Valor, feeling the familiar time hiccup before I sheathed it and my surroundings returned to normal.
As normal as this slag would ever be.
I didn't know where to start. Everyone, even Optimus and Ratchet were looking to me like I had all the answers, when I didn't know jack. Speaking of, the humans were gone. Ratchet had probably bridged them to their homes for the evening. The rest expected me to tell them what had happened, what I had done, and I had. But not happily. Somehow, they expected more. Was it not enough? Did the story seem unfinished? No one wins, no one loses, except the ones who've already passed on.
It all went back to Starscream. Nothing with him had changed since I'd returned, other than that Ultra Magnus now occupied the berth beside him. Fortunately for him, it was a given that he would wake up. As such, no one was fussing over him much, we all knew he'd be fine; Starscream was our real concern.
I crossed my arms, staring Ratchet down. "You said you knew things, yet refused to tell me until the others were present. Well, here we all are. Talk." It was infuriating me how dilatory they were acting, the medic in particular.
"We know Sev here dropped him into the Lock, but is he gonna come out of it?" Bulkhead asked, looking to the medic.
I jumped in before anyone could share their thoughts, "He was struck by lightning, just before he fell into the lake. I don't know what it did, but his optics came online for a split second."
Knock Out was excited by this, "It could have triggered a reboot!"
Ratchet seemed to be thinking along the same lines, "Yes, that much raw electricity would be more than enough to bring his chassis back online, and that would explain what happened to his faceplates."
It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly the room was buzzing with questions, and they began to overlap each other until it became a cacophonous babble of voices, assaulting my audials.
"Is he alive?"
"Do you think you can–"
"Is there–"
"How–"
It became too discordant and loud to follow anymore. "JUST SHUT UP!" I screeched. Optimus stood taller, instantly commanding the attention of everyone present, and not needing to say a word. I fumed silently, my four wings at half their usual height.
"Yip, ip ip. If you all would speak one at a time, I might actually be able to answer something!" Ratchet said, giving a small roll of his optics in exasperation. No one spoke up. "Well?"
"I-is he alive? Is he going to wake up?" This came from Knock Out, concern twisting his features.
Ratchet's expression darkened for a millisecond but he caught himself and donned an optimistic look that was a tad too forced. But it flickered and died altogether as his optics settled onto my double's lifeless chassis. "I've already checked, his spark is gone." the older bot began quietly. My wings drooped another few degrees and I slumped along with a few others. "I'm sorry." he added, likely seeing our shifts in posture. "Technically speaking, however, his chassis is alive." this brought on a few gasps.
"How!" I exclaimed before anyone else could. They all were asking the same question with their optics.
"I rushed him onto life support–you must not have noticed, Seven." I inclined my helm in a slight nod.
"What's the prognosis, doc?" Smokescreen pushed, clearly growing impatient. He wasn't alone.
The medic sighed irritably, "For the upteenth time: my name is not 'doc.' And to answer your question, for lack of a better term, he is brain-dead. His chassis is functional while sustained externally, but if his spark does not re-enter its chamber…" he trailed off, not needing to finish the thought.
Bulkhead blinked, confusion clouding his features, "So, he's not dead–"
"But not quite alive either." Arcee cut in grimly.
I struggled to put sense to my thoughts and threw my arms up in confusion, "C-could his spark somehow, I don't know, re-enter his chassis?"
"I don't know." Ratchet answered.
Knock Out jumped in, "Nothing like this has ever happened before, and if it has, it's never been documented."
"Which is why we are going to have an optic or camera on him at all times, while noting each and every change." The white medic said stoutly.
Knock Out groaned.
"Sounds like we'll just have to wait and see." this was Bumblebee, recovering the conversation, his arms crossed over his yellow chest plating.
"Indeed, Bumblebee." Optimus agreed.
"I wouldn't get anyone's hopes up," Ratchet interjected grimly, but smiled nonetheless at the sound of the scout's voice, "the few scans I have ran suggest that he is in deep stasis lock," my eyebrows shot up and the medic cleared his vocalizer hastily, seeing this, "meaning that his processor is showing to be fully functional, for the time being."
"Is he trapped in some kind of… perpetual dream, then?" Bumblebee asked.
"No. I said that his processor is fully functional, but at present, it's displaying no signs of activity. Unless his spark is somehow reintroduced to his chassis, he will not wake up." The medic's tone became grim and he looked away, "I'm sorry. I've done what I can."
"Say we found his spark and got it back in his chassis. Then would he wake up?" Arcee asked, sounding more curious than skeptical.
Optimus shuttered his optics for a moment, "While I am sure the doctors are competent to provide an adequate answer, I harbor my own doubts. Who are we to tamper with the natural order? I believe Starscream found peace in his final moments—is it right of us to take that from him?"
Everyone turned to the large mech instantly, surprise and confusion clouding their faceplates. My mouth ran dry.
Bulkhead shattered the silence with nervous laughter, "Ha, if we could get Screamy back, of course we would, and we all know he'd want to!"
"Was it right for him to get murdered by MECH?" Knock Out said, a vengeful undercurrent of loathing darkening his tone, but it wasn't directed at the Prime.
"No. However, he still succumbed to the virus, finding peace in the end. It is not our place to bestow life into one who has passed." Optimus stated firmly.
"You–you don't want him back, do you?" I whimpered, feeling my wings dip.
Smokescreen was taken aback, "He didn't say that!"
"It's implied." I hissed. "Am I simply good enough? Close enough to being Starscream, the real deal, that it doesn't matter anymore if we bring him back or not? Because then there would just be two of him!" I suddenly found myself shouting, my whole frame trembling, fists clenched. "Because you're wrong." I added quietly. "It's not the same."
No one said anything for a long moment. The tension in the room was like a live wire, ready to spray electricity everywhere at a moment's notice. Regret ate at my insides: I knew I shouldn't have said that.
They were speechless. "Sev, how long have you been holding this in?" Bumblebee asked gently, taking a step closer as if to offer some attempt at consolation.
I transformed and sat heavily on my landing gear, not wanting any of them to see my expression. A large, familiar servo found itself on one of my wing strakes but I didn't look at it, letting my flaps droop. I was so fatigued. The cyber-matter might have removed the wounds from my chassis, but I still had fought tirelessly for hours upon hours and then was dropped in an arctic lake to boot. "I'm not leaving," I said quietly to Starscream, "you called me your brother. I promise, I will never leave you… I swear it on my spark." The servo's pressure on my strake increased slightly.
I focused on its owner and Optimus' kind faceplates greeted me, surprise, surprise. He wasn't quite looking in the right spot. "I know you are tired and hurting, we all are. And you have earned your rest. But keep in mind that we all will support you through this, no matter the outcome. Myself especially."
"I know," I mumbled gratefully, allowing my flaps to perk up.
Optimus straightened and faced the rest of the group, looking to Ratchet in particular. "What of the virus?"
"I think we're all wondering that," Knock Out joined in.
A smile cracked the older bot's white faceplates. "Gone, without a trace."
I smiled too—but they couldn't see it behind my jet mode—and lapsed into the blissful void of recharge.