The Secrets of the Cyber Worlds: Short Stories of the Past
Fiera's Rise
The Mistress of Flame fumed as Cybertron was yet again late on their agreement. She rolled her optics, her fiery red bio lights glowing bright. Pointing down at her subordinate, she yelled, "Get me on call with the Cybertronian Council now!"
Highwind, her assistant, and his accompanied great granddaughter, Fiera, he was training obeyed and quickly, Highwind showed her how to contact Cybertron. She was efficient and they got a hold of Alpha Trion. They both stepped back, letting the Mistress of Flame do her thing.
"Why is it when my people need supplies, you mongrels can't find a way to transfer them on time, let alone perhaps at all?!"
Alpha Trion sighed, "It is not my choice on when they are sent. I can only push for so many shipments in a stellar cycle. You know as well as I what our bylaws are about this. We must prioritize Cybertron first, and our agreement was for you to give your services to Cybertron which you are not sending your people for labor."
"And I told you, my people are not your slaves!" The Mistress growled, "That's what you said last time and the time before. I'm not playing this game anymore, Trion! Either you send those shipments, or you lose our planetary support. That's my final offer."
"You have no right-"
In all her fury, she slammed the end of her fiery spear down against the floor. "It is MY PLANET!"
The room was silent, still and unnerved. Alpha Trion was taken aback by the sudden statement. Highwind didn't flinch, having been used to the rage. Fiera did, however, but she looked up at the Mistress of Flame with amazement. The older femme stood her ground despite being seated, her optics ablaze with a command unrivaled.
The Mistress bit her lip and glared at him as she said viciously but in a whisper, "You get to dictate my planet? My people and their lives? Who gave you the right? The Mistresses before me under Solus Prime's honor promised we would work with you…not work for you."
"Mistress, you must understand-"
"I have never understood it clearer, I assure you."
Fiera listened with utmost interest to her leader's words.
"Cybertron doesn't care for its colonies. We don't want to divide from you, but you treat everyone like they are beneath you. You raise our stakes and cost of supplies of our trade yet condemn us for being unable to afford it." She closed her optics and sighed, "I have no other choice. I'm done listening to you make mockeries of us. I'm done letting you take control. This isn't what we signed up for. This isn't what we agreed with. I am forced to declare that we are separating from Cybertron immediately."
Alpha Trion, a man who was rarely thrown off guard, was outright baffled, stuttering, "No…no, you…we should talk about this first…"
"I'm all out of words, Trion. Done. Oh, and if you try to send any troops here, I'll kill them. You had plenty of chances to be reasonable…I don't know how charitable we're supposed to be to get so little in return but if this isn't working for Caminus, I'm not going to indulge your elitist views anymore. Goodbye."
Highwind got the signal to cut communications, and this time he took point and cut it immediately, not finding the opportunity to teach Fiera appropriate which such high tensions. Alpha Trion didn't get a chance to speak when he was abruptly dropped. Fiera watched the Mistress of Flame tap her spear in thought, dentae grinding with utter malice. The Mistress then caught her uncertainty but curiosity, holding back her more furious thoughts to instead address the younger femme.
"I hope you understand that this was a necessity."
Highwind didn't speak on behalf of Fiera, letting her instead approach the conversation on her own. She replied, "You did what you had to do."
A small nod was shot her way, a faint kindness with it. "At least you get it. You know, kid, sometimes we have to learn the hard way when to let certain relationships go, no matter how beneficial they can be. That was not a symbiotic agreement therefore Cybertron is nothing more than a threat with good resources. We can only survive as we are, not who everyone wants us to be, and we should always be proud of who we are against all odds. We Camiens should never take kindly to threats."
Fiera gave a small nod, earning her a returned gesture of approval.
Then the Mistress of Flame said to Highwind, "Destroy all data and the space bridge access to Cybertron."
The mech paused before refusing to argue, knowing the consequences if he should do so. "As you wish. Come, Fiera."
Fiera obeyed, eager to see how the destruction of the bridge would be brought about. As he contacted the bridge operatives to wipe all the data coordinates clean and evacuate, she thought about what the Mistress of Flame said. She followed her great grandsire whom she could tell the position he was in was taking a rather bad toll on him. He didn't seem to agree with the Mistress, at least not about the complete shut off of communications with the mother world. They took a transport to the bridge complex in Pyrohex, its framework old and unkempt, but it wasn't Highwind's job to deal with such things. He was only commanded to do what he was told regardless of personal opinion. When they walked to the bridge overseeing ledge, one that had a rather fantastic view of the otherwise disgraced layout, Fiera looked toward her elder awaiting his thoughts.
It took Highwind a second to scope out the complex before turning to his relative. "Such a loss is this."
Fiera frowned, "But she is right, isn't she?"
"Just because someone's instincts are right doesn't make all their choices justified. Cybertron may be hard-headed and callous, but I don't think severing ties with them is a good idea."
"Why?"
"Ignoring the origin of the life you know can spawn very inconsiderate vanity and aggression. Cybertron, though crude, made us humble. I fear that without acknowledgement of its existence or what its initial purpose was for future generations, the repercussions will be great. And some people won't take the separation kindly. Just don't believe one side, always see the perspective of various views first and compare them. I think there could be a better solution than direct separation, but it is not my place. Be prepared though. It's going to get a bit choppy."
Fiera blinked and looked to the side unsure until her grandsire stepped forward and peered past the complex as if searching for something unfounded. He closed his optics to her confusion but when he reopened them, Highwind's was glowing, entombing all his optic space in a bright light.
"Astro Zenith, heed my call and awake!"
A rumbling had Fiera clinging to a stable part of the ledge pillars of the architecture. A dark growl echoed across the city when she saw in the distance a titan of blue and gold with bio lights racing across their frame emerged from a building mode she would have never guessed would be such a massive creature in disguise. A secondary smaller building followed suit to her surprise, but Fiera's attention swiftly shifted back to Astro Zenith as the titan roared.
"I don't think I ever introduced you to good old Astro Zenith. Did I ever tell you your family comes from a line of Cityspeakers? Astro Zenith is my charge though good luck trying to get her to stay still. She was either going to be here in Pyrohex or in Ember Basin. Those are the two cities she likes to roam in. Heh heh heh, I was kind of afraid I would have to go get her."
Fiera didn't answer, being still as shocked as she was while Astro Zenith slowly came towards the complex with an unknown entity trailing behind. Despite her grand size, Astro Zenith maneuvered past the walkways lining the city with ease without destroying them. When the titan reached the bridge complex, Highwind raised a servo wordlessly to halt her. Fiera didn't expect such a being to obey.
Highwind then made sure no one was around before whistling a specific tune and pointed down, one that made Astro Zenith's optics dilate with a purr. After a second, they reverted back to their constricted, smaller state as she raised her arm prepared to swing. Fiera winced and gazed in concern yet amazement as the titan struck the side of the complex to have pieces of its infrastructure fall inward, damaging the bridge indefinitely. The orange femme didn't know how her grandsire managed to tell Astro such a command without having to speak, but the secrets of Cityspeakers were never divulged to her before. She was aware of the phenomenon but didn't know of her grandsire's link to it. As Astro Zenith destroyed the bridge complex section by section, its systems and structure unrecognizable, she focused on the second small but still relatively massive entity lingering near the imposing titan.
Perched on a walkway was a titan youngling, black and dark blue undertones hidden among its frame, that gazed up at what Fiera began to assume was their carrier. She never knew titans could have offspring. She grew curious indeed as the youngling tilted their head looking at her next with a small high-pitched grunt.
As the bridge was decimated, Highwind watched with slight unease. He was mindful of Astro Zenith's range and made sure they were in a safe zone as parts went flying into the center. All the hard work of building such a complex generations back wasted.
Once Astro Zenith finished laying her destruction for all to see, she growled before humming, stepping through the already ruined structure to come close to her Cityspeaker. The youngling followed to go between her legs and near her lowering chest as she kneeled to have her faceplates in reach of Highwind. The mech placed a servo gently on her nose plate, her optics grew in size as she rumbled. Fiera saw the love she had for her Cityspeaker, a mutual friendship unlike anything she had witnessed before.
"Highwind."
"I'm sorry, old friend, for having you do this. I know we are trying to get away from drama, don't we know we tried. It's always something." He heard the curious cooing of the youngling and chuckled, "Oh, you brought them. Fiera, come here, dear."
Fiera was no scared femme but even she was unsure of approaching such a huge being, especially if she had young with her. Highwind let her clutch his servo in assurance before having her come face-to-face with the titan.
"Fiera, this is Astro Zenith. Trust me, she's not as scary as she looks. She just was born a bit on edge but she's playful mostly, high strung if anything. But I want to introduce you to someone special even more so, someone much like you."
As they went to the edge, Fiera saw the blue optics in the shadow of Astro's form. Said titan peered down upon tracking their line of sight and gave a low purr as her youngling waddled out into a better view for the spectators.
"Meet Obsidian."
Obsidian cooed and squeaked though the octaves were much lower for a sparkling than Fiera was used to given they were far larger than any sparkling she had met. Obsidian climbed up with their carrier's help and sensed both bots. Highwind gestured for them to calm and let them come to him eagerly. But instead of placing his servo openly, he slowly helped Fiera lift hers.
"Let Obsidian come to you. Titans are very trusting to those they believe are worthy. And I think Obsidian senses you as worthy just the same as how Astro Zenith chose me. If they obey your yield, they trust you."
His grin told her he was certain. Although her grandsire sometimes acted a bit crazy in his theories, sometimes she believed it was because he was one of the older members of Caminus' government nearing retirement, Fiera believed him wholeheartedly for once and took the lead. She held out her servo for Obsidian to yield…
The titan youngling stopped directly in front of her, tilting their head with a purr. Astro Zenith watched closely as the two were face-to-face the same as Highwind had been with Astro herself. Highwind was very pleased and Astro Zenith's vents hissed with a proud sigh. Fiera, having the new approval of both titans, then stroked Obsidian's jawline which the sparkling nuzzled into.
She laughed, "You're going to big like your carrier. So will I one day."
Highwind nodded and stood to the side of Obsidian. "Indeed. This…isn't how I wanted you two to meet amid this whole mess, but I talked to your grandcarrier and your sire, and I was going to have Astro Zenith bring her little one around later on to surprise you. I, uh, at least know you are compatible as only a Cityspeaker can earn the trust of a titan. You are my bloodline therefore you had a chance of being a Cityspeaker…only of you accept it as I will not force you to do so if you don't want to."
"I will," Fiera smiled petting her new titan companion. "If you'll have me, Obsidian."
The larger being cooed, brushing against her which almost knocked her down. She merely laughed at this though when Astro Zenith grunted and snarled, not aggressively but sternly, she knew it was time for her new charge to leave. Obsidian playfully growled back and climbed down the wreckage of the bridge complex to toddle after their mother. Fiera giggled like a youngling before Highwind gestured to her.
"Now, let's see if our deed finally made the Mistress of Flame proud, assuming she could ever be."
Fiera forgot about the Mistress but wondered if she was a Cityspeaker, if any of the previous Mistress of Flame titleholders had ever carried the ability. She then said as she trailed her great grandsire, "Has anyone in our family been the Mistress of Flame?"
"Not yet, but who knows? Anyone can be the Mistress of Flame if they wish to go the distance. Not many people do." He then raised a brow, "Why? Thinking about going for the mantle? Tough business…being the leader of a world entire. Can't imagine what it's going to be like now with us separated, but a competent leader will always find a way to make do for their people and their planet."
Fiera looked around and grunted to herself in thought. She could be a competent leader. Highwind knew that's what she was thinking as he threw an arm around her shoulders proudly, smiling at her.
"I think you would be an excellent leader, Fiera. Work your way through the smaller fields first and be observant. That is one of the best ways to build up to it. And Obsidian will be with you all the way."
Then another rumble echoed. She and Highwind watched as Astro Zenith and Obsidian united with a few other titans who were awakened by the chaos, one of which was black with purple streaks whom Astro Zenith immediately followed in the direction of Titans Crossing, the titans' roaming land. Obsidian climbed up the black and purple titan's back to gain a higher view of the world.
One day, she may be high up in the world too. Obsidian and her, they were going to ensure no one could harm Caminus again.
The Deathly Fire
Windblade arrived on Cybertron pristine and respectful. She bowed and acknowledged all she saw with proper manners she was taught on Caminus. It was what she thought they would appreciate, especially the Arisen who deserved no less formalities.
The Arisen, preferring Optimus Prime, was not who Windblade expected. The Primes were always seen as reputable figures at most, otherwise arrogant idols, but not Optimus. He was a friend, a general, and an overall warrior of peace. Even Solus Prime was never said to be as righteous as that. So, when she met him on a tense Cybertron, she was blown away by his kind authority.
Granted, Windblade shouldn't have been on Cybertron at all but upon hearing rumors, she had to see for herself the original home world. An old system kept under the protection of an alias had the coordinates, and she found it through an anonymous bot. It was regrettable somewhat as it was a nightmare of a war zone. The beasts that were the Decepticons showed no mercy; their ravenous appetite for destruction made the horror stories she heard on Caminus true…yet not all of Cybertron was like that. The Autobots had flaws and arguably had to make executive decisions that rivaled the Decepticons', but they sought to keep the planet from falling into the wrong servos of the dreaded and rather monstrous Megatron.
To say she was terrified when she arrived, especially as an outsider, was an understatement. But she hid that to make a good impression as a proud warrior of Caminus, a representative of their freedoms and preservation under the magnificent Mistress of Flame, to the noble Prime. Although it wasn't her war, she felt she couldn't just leave one of the last Primes to fight for Cybertron. It didn't feel right. No matter her distaste for all the infighting and such corruption, sometimes in both factions, Windblade sensed Optimus was a leader worth the sacrifice. Solus Prime was said to hold Optimus, then Thirteen, in high regards, so why shouldn't she honor Solus by serving Optimus?
The raging fires of direct destruction were a new concept to her. Caminus had the infamous Titan Wars and smaller civil disputes that were gone within a few years at most. This…was not the same as the battles she had known, not anywhere close to them. This was internal annihilation. Megatron wanted it as such, and he made this clear to her the day he killed an entire fleet of the Hydrax Plateau.
Windblade flew alongside the Autobot military ships and Jetfire. That was the same day the Seeker lost his brother, Jetstorm, shot from the sky like a falling star. She barely dodged the latter's exploding carcass as it was jettisoned backwards as a fireball, nor did she register the heat of the situation until she realized he was one of the first brutal casualties of many. There was no time to mourn or bots would end up like him in seconds. Windblade worked with what she knew and integrated it with the new tactics she had picked up quickly under Optimus' command. Starscream and his battalion of Seekers, defectors to Megatron's growing regime, were there waiting to intercept them.
The battle was bloody, at least to her. The aftermath wasn't preventable. Megatron had his forces wipe out the ground troops and target the ships above before he himself came in to conquer it all. Windblade had never seen a mech so vicious in all her lifespan. Now she knew why the acting Mistress of Flame nullified her curiosity before; Cybertronians had some of the greatest monsters ever created, and she just bore witness to one of them.
It wasn't the only time she saw Megatron in his fury and determination. The silver monster tackled Optimus, able to stand against a descendant of Primus like he was a mere common enemy and threw the Prime over several meters with a mighty roar of a battle cry. Windblade marveled at their fight, shocked at the brutality but most of all, she was outright horrified how neither leader, no matter how much they bled, would back down. It was like watching two crosswings engaged to tear each other's throats out.
The war-torn world required one to be on their toes always. Never had Windblade slept so little and done so much each day. But a lighter interest was that she found she wasn't the only femme Optimus entrusted on his main juggernaut teams upon meeting the likes of Elita One and her sisters. A rarity it was to meet a troop of sisters on the exact same assigned team. Elita was the leader and the eldest having served under Optimus the longest, Arcee was the smaller of the group but her size meant nothing against her enemies nor her sparring partners as she beat them with ease, Chromia was third in line and the tanker when she wanted to be, and then there was baby sister Moonracer who may have been the youngest but she had the attitude of a cyber-lion when cornered. Windblade found comfort in the group, being welcomed by all the sisters, especially Arcee whom she got along the best with. They brought light to an otherwise demanding war.
Windblade couldn't say she preferred Caminus over Cybertron because the wars in her home world were, in a way, sanitized against what Cybertron brought in its wake. She learned more than enough to make her an ace on Caminus if another battle were to take place. Cybertron showed her a new perspective among its hellfire. The descendants of Solus Prime needed to know how to defend all life no matter the past against tyranny. Though the road among faint peace unseen was winding with only Arcee and a few others to keep her grounded, she knew they had the same hope she did.
There was, of course, loss. Windblade was there to see the toll it took on many. Jetfire lost his brother so abruptly to Starscream's ambush bombardment and it rivaled that of Arcee who lost Elita and later, Tailgate. Optimus took Elita's death equally as bad, but Arcee blamed herself. She never spoke why, and Windblade didn't dare bother the femme in her grieving. She watched Hot Rod lose his dear friend Red Alert to Blitzwing, Hound and Bulkhead were distraught over Brawn's departure by Blackout, and poor Sideswipe ended up being separated from his twin, Sunstreaker…only to find the mech was tortured and killed before his body was discovered on pieces. Windblade was one of the search party members. She remembered the scene all too well.
Megatron only grew more vicious in his tactics; Windblade didn't realize until years in just how jaded and used to the horror she was until finally, she found the gruesome deaths and the devastation less impactful because of him. They were just more corpses in the pile and more buildings destroyed. Their significance in a never-ending war otherwise meaningless. Years away from Caminus made her no more or less of a warrior than she already was but made her resentful and direct than previously. Her attitude grew harsh, her armor with its fair share of scars, and her demeanor of a military commander equal to that of Ultra Magnus. Optimus became a trusted close friend, one she prided herself in serving through the conflict with no fear present anymore. Compared to when she first arrived, Windblade grew up in ways that she never knew she could.
Under the Mistress of Flame back home, Windblade knew she would never be her proud, innocent self again. Her leader didn't even know the pain and sacrifices around her couldn't amount to Cybertron's elongated rage. It was all a firepit, the ways of flame. Caminus worshipped Solus Prime and her forge but knew nothing of the hellish world the Prime originated from and her resting place a war land beyond repair as far as Windblade knew. This wasn't what anyone on Caminus could believe was their god's home. Fire rises as long as it is maintained, grows with every burning body cast into its threshold. She hated to admit Caminus was not ready for the devastation witnessed here. It never could.
By the time the war was coming to a terrible end, Cybertron was dying slowly, painfully, and its core melted to the corruption of Megatron's essence. Windblade didn't bother to enter the Ark as it prepared to leave the world now missing more than three fourths its population. Never in a million years did she believe that war could last as long as it did even under the mighty command of one such as Optimus, yet the end was near and in no one's favor. Cybertron was a lost cause; its remaining inhabitants were forced to flee to survive.
She stood on its dock, several Autobots including Arcee staying behind to oversee the launch of the Autobot vessel as it headed out with their friends. There was nothing to be said as the damage to Iacon around them was ablaze with a deathly fire untamed. Weapons the city had for protection were slowly breaking down and running low on energy. Windblade stared as the Ark departed, unfortunately with the last great Decepticon warship, the Nemesis, built from the remains of the titan named Trypticon, pursuing them beyond the sky to a distant portal where they would hopefully keep Megatron away from Cybertron and let it heal if that was even possible.
But not all hope was lost. As Windblade, Arcee, and many bots who strived to try and oversee the planet in its final moments stayed strong, she knew one day peace would finally be restored. It would be a long journey, one no doubt filled with trials yet to come and enemies still patrolling the decimated world, but she made a promise to a Prime that she would protect Cybertron no matter what. As much as she missed Caminus, she had found a second one she saw potential in salvaging with a new family among the Autobots who took her in. Here she would stay but until all are one, Windblade would serve her duties by choice for a brighter future.
But oh, how she pitied Cybertron as the deathly fires of war had scorched it with dreadful scars.
Experiments
The last beaker was placed carefully on its stand as a trophy of his finished product, its orange glow haunting. Shockwave used both servos to lift a crate full of the same essence bottled to store in his tower for the time being. It wasn't time to use it yet. He placed it in a storage bay, ignoring the hissing around him.
"Quiet."
Red bug optics glared at him from every direction, their mandibles clattering as a few left growling. Shockwave was used to their presence having improved their rather mundane previous appearances. They now looked like monsters, ones he could appreciate though if Blackarachnia was still around, she would have grown horrified of his tampering. That was one of the few bots he missed as her scientific expertise in the Allspark's powers and bot class alteration was top notch. Her loss was unfortunate, so he had no choice but to take the Insecticons in as unofficial housemates when she never came back from the Archa System. Thankfully, his tower of solitude among the wastes in the Sea of Rust had enough room for the small army to roam without bugging him, pun unintended.
He planned on returning to his space bridge duties, recovering the old technology neglected and lost for some time. But something was nagging him to visit some special…experiments.
He went back to his lab, passing a row of weapons suspended that he amputated from the Autobots who trespassed, all but a purple cannon of his own design. With the war becoming a free-for-all and no one proved safe, he planned on equipping himself with the cannon once all the kinks were fixed out of it. It was still in its testing phase, but he was a patient mech. Like Megatron, he planned to have it attached to the side of his arm. It was a matter for another time though.
"Shockwave! RRAARGGHHHH!"
Shockwave merely tilted his head, his single optic gleaming at a prisoner he longed to have under his scalpel. The vicious and destructive leader of the Lightning Strike Coalition Force of the Autobots was a renowned monster of desolation. No one ever beat him, so they said, but Shockwave wasn't a random bot on the street or a mere soldier. He was a strategist, cunning and cruel, and Grimlock was no genius like him. Physically, the larger mech could overtake him but mentally, Shockwave was superior. It was the only way he could win against such a brute.
Grimlock snarled as he tested the limits of the restraints. He took a step forward, his arms staying in place at an uncomfortable angle behind him as he leaned forward almost off the platform to intimidate the scientist almost a full level below him. The electric cuffs immobilizing him cackled and groaned from the strain. Shockwave would have raised his brows in slight surprise about that, but his face had lost all manner of expressions longer than he could remember even having them with only a single optic. Such raw power inside a mech like Grimlock and his strongest bonds were nearly on the verge of breaking. That was concerning to say the least.
The rageful mech nearly roared like some wild animal. "I will tear you apart!"
Hardly fazed, the scientist replied, "A moment of your choosing that will sadly not come."
In restraints similar to Grimlock's, Slug, Snarl, Swoop, and Sludge, a drone posse in his opinion, struggled angrily against their energy cages like beasts. The irony was starting to grow on Shockwave and even he could stifle a small laugh.
"You are the best warriors, so misguided and used for tasks even the Wreckers wouldn't dare do."
"Don't patronize us, you miserable cretin!" Grimlock roared.
Shockwave ignored the outcry and made a mental note to numb the brute's glossa afterwards by any means necessary. "Of course, you must be wondering why I brought you all here for. Forgive my tardiness, I was working on a stabilizer for another project off subject that I need not bore you with. But your participation for my newest idea is quite crucial."
"As if we'd do anything for the likes of you-"
"Then it is rather a good thing I don't need your consent."
He typed on a console not far from the area and had data project over a window looking out towards the Sea of Rust. Among the screens now active, a hologram of a blue and green organic world appeared before the unruly brutes, all of whom stopped their struggling instinctively to gaze upon the unknown world.
"A planet underdeveloped yet high in raw energy shows promise as well as its current lifeforms," he said as specs of a few specimens appeared. A sauropod, a three-horned stomper, a creature with massive plates on its back, a flying long-beak, and his favorite, a large powerhouse with little arms but some of the deadliest set of jaws on the planet. "They are beasts unlike anything I have ever come across. The only creatures similar would be those of the fabled predators that once roamed Cybertron. Imagine a being of sheer might harnessing the form of these monsters."
"I like the plated one," Snarl said offhandedly. His fellow Autobots looked at him strangely and he shrugged as best he could despite his arms being held up.
Slug then yelled, "Whatever you plan to do with us in that sick, twisted mind of yours, Shockwave, don't you dare!"
"Or you'll what?" Shockwave challenged, "Kill me just like everyone else who dared to try before you? I am not going to harm you but rather improve you. With these references, I shall make a new faction of Dinobots and you will be all-powerful under my command. Optimus Prime and his Autobots won't stand a chance against your primitive might."
Sludge grew horrified while Grimlock only became even more enraged. Upon seeing this and the frantic pulling to break his bonds, Shockwave stepped in front of Grimlock's cell calculating his approach. The most aggressive saurus was the small-armed giant jawed dinosaur, a fitting form for a beast who thought more with his brutality than his brains. That arrogant mouth of his had to go.
"And I will start with you, beast," hissed the scientist.
Grimlock blew steam from his vents with a low growl, staring down at the Decepticon with utmost malice. Shockwave activated the stasis shock treatment that sent howls and screams out his way while examining the posture of the mighty leader. Once they were all sedated, he went to work.
Designing the configurations for modification of an already existing alternate mode from scratch was, for a lack of a better term, exhausting. It was the most challenging thing he had ever done. Reshaping the alt mode alone was a tedious process and each bot had a unique structure. He made sure they were sedated when he calculated their sizes up close and the range of the main plates of armor that made up their chassis to understand where each part would go and what it would form. It took weeks to get everything done while simultaneously watching for any Autobots who came snooping around where they shouldn't have.
He had heard of the term "Dinobots" from an old journal in Iacon on a world he knew not. Seldom was ever told to the people of the previous world alliances or the colonies that more or less defected. It was before his time, before practically anyone's lifespan currently aside from old Alpha Trion. The only reason he had access to such information was because, at the time, he was a senator. Research was what he did in his time away from politics and it led him to do what he could do now. A pity those fools couldn't understand his perspective, but they weren't laughing now that all of them were dead.
Finally, Shockwave had the alt modes made. Now came the part of infusing the schematics manually. The trick he learned with the Insecticons was the coding could be changed through diving into the system mainframe and extend the reading data to the processor consciousness. It was tricky, far less so than what he just done though.
He stood over a stasis-locked Grimlock preparing the programming, but then he remembered what he wanted to do to that snide tone of the mech's. Too talkative and brash was he to mouth off to his new master. It was time to fix that. Before Shockwave did anything else, he took a scalpel and forced Grimlock's helm to tilt back exposing the cables of his neck and beneath the protocol lied his untouched voice box. He regretted nothing as he did minor surgery to alter it. If the brute wanted to be treated like a beast, he was better off having the tongue of one…
The implanting of the alt mode coding took longer than normal to implement at ten minutes than a few seconds. The code wasn't natural and Grimlock's armor was wanting to adjust as it needed to. Shockwave watched with interest as the Destronium circuits of Grimlock's model altered themselves, changing to form claws among his arms for the legs of the beast mode. The tips of his digits were shifting to be just as sharp. Shockwave could hear Grimlock groan even under stasis; he was fighting the programming. It wasn't enough.
The process was done and before the purple mech was nothing short of a Prime killer. He was eager to see Grimlock's beast form but held back to instead focus on the others. He had the Insecticons, Bombshell and Shrapnel, place him back in his restraints as he moved on to the curious Sludge. A sauropod long neck was his chosen form as he was the tallest.
Shockwave did his best to do the same to Sludge as he did Grimlock, strapping him to the table in his stasis and beginning the injection of the data into the mainframe. At first, everything seemed fine, but the experiment suddenly took a turn for the worse. An error message appeared screaming at him. The process was incomplete, yet it was trying to finish the last steps of integration. Shockwave grew confused and hastily tried to override the error to get it to stop. There was no way Sludge of all the mechs had the mental capacity to resist it, so it was quickly determined that the error lied within. His computers must have had trouble translating the foreign design. He tried his best to correct it until sparks flew up at him. Sludge was instantly awakened from stasis.
In agonizing pain, Sludge roared as his form was incomplete in its shifting. The growls and cries of terror as he broke the restraints had Shockwave backing away. It was also unfortunate proof the Dinobot forms were enhanced in strength as well. As he called for his Insecticon security, he bore witness to Sludge stumbling and clutching his head with an ungodly noise before sprinting with animalistic fury through a door he destroyed in seconds barreling through it. As soon as Bombshell and his crew came in, Shockwave was quick to command them.
"Apprehend him. Better yet, kill him. I have no use for failed experiments."
The Insecticons obeyed and pursued, leaving Shockwave to tend to his malfunctioning equipment. It was rather unfortunate Sludge was ultimately a letdown. Granted, his system was to blame. It was a mercy to execute him anyways. Shockwave knew firsthand living with a damaged mind was a torturous thing. His victims, if they were still around to tell those tales, would vouch for that. All he heard after an hour was Sludge was put out of his misery. Shame.
Shockwave found what was wrong with the computers and adjusted accordingly to finish off the remaining three. They were converted without any more hiccups. Still, he monitored the process like a hawk and was all but prepared to oversee a shutdown before it glitched too heavily just in case.
Their beast modes had yet to be seen. Shockwave was confident they worked. If not, the Lightning Force…Dinobots would be killed like their friend. After all, it was no loss to him whatsoever. He just wanted to know if he could recreate organic forms in cybernetic beings. As he made sure they were all settled in their bonds in stasis, he looked over each and was proud of himself. They would thank him one day once he had complete control over them.
His experiments were always questionable but when morals were more or less considered optional, the results were boundless. The power of creation was his to hold and his to conquer as he saw fit.
Bombshell suddenly burst in with a hiss, "Intruders approaching in the Sea of Rust. Autobots."
Shockwave was silent, more so out of annoyance of the disturbance of Autobot interlopers. Surely, they weren't foolish enough to try and save Grimlock and his forces. They would be dealt with. Maybe to ease the disappointment of losing Sludge, he would use them for another set of experiments. But he had other things he needed to prioritize now that his other projects were out of the way.
The completion of lost space bridge technology required his attention. He worked on it off and on but now he needed to solely focus on it. It was intended for the organic planet in which the Decepticons could harvest the energy among it. Perhaps the Autobots got wind of that. As Megatron was planning to launch the remains of Trypticon as the Nemesis once he recovered the parts of the titan, Shockwave had his own plan and that was to complete the space bridge before those accursed Autobots could stop him.
Maybe he did waste too much time on the Dinobots but their improvements were the pinnacle of his joy of creation. He couldn't help it. His knowledge was addicting to demonstrate and once the war was won under Decepticon reign, he intended to do a lot more. Now, he had a space bridge to create, another experiment he would enjoy unlocking the secrets of just like he did with the brutes.
An Assassin's Creed
Silence, then strike.
A mech barely cried out when a sword severed his head from his body as a purple blur fled past them in the shadows.
Stillness is key. Prey cannot see what doesn't move.
Two femmes patrolling were struck without warning. One took a blade to the chest and the other was silenced with a swift neck break. Both were discarded as venomous optics searched for anyone in their way.
Patience. They will come.
One bot ended up collapsing on his front, two swords embedded in his backside as his optics flickered before dulling to black. Energon leaked from the wounds as the swords were ripped out by a passing form.
Their weakness is their own pride.
The halls had splotches of Energon among their walls unseen by untrained optics and easily dismissed by the doubtful. It gave him plenty of prey to kill in their oblivious nature. Autobots were like sparklings, never aware of their surroundings in the comfort of their base. Little did anyone know how far from safe they truly were.
A blade shot straight through the forehead of a femme who was guarding the controls for the base's security system. A tragic loss, but not to him. He felt nothing watching the Autobot perish as she collapsed on her knees then slumped forward lifeless with a large wound in her helm.
"Cyclonus, destroy the base and let the Autobots wallow in the wreckage of their defiance," cackled Megatron.
He knew exactly what to do, but that didn't mean he liked it. It wasn't the same as killing in person. Setting a bomb was child's play. Anyone could kill like that. It took skill to hunt with only a blade or two in enemy territory.
Cyclonus stayed silent. He preferred to keep his opinions to himself anyway. Never talkative but always business. He was at Megatron's beck and call, and the warlord knew him well enough to know his silence was acknowledgement.
Placing the bomb as silent as can be in the security room, Cyclonus snuck out of the base, slipping past the guarding Autobots he didn't have time to kill and risk causing a scene in his hurry. He had mere minutes to escape, otherwise Soundwave was ordered to blow it up within a certain time frame and he would be caught within the blast. Megatron liked him…but not that much. He raced out of the supposed proximity after hitting the outside but transformed and jettisoned away, not wanting to see if the bomb's true radius was more than what it was said to be. He heard a few shouts as he left followed by a gruesome explosion. The towers surrounding the base were all decimated and crumbling. He could only imagine what was left of the Autobots.
Cyclonus returned to Darkmount, his assigned base among the war under Soundwave's authority. He scowled seeing Starscream among the bots gathered. He hated the Seeker with a passion. His brothers he could tolerate but Starscream was a disgrace unlike anyone he had ever encountered. Thankfully, his mind was taken off the annoyance when Soundwave came into view and gestured for Cyclonus to follow. He knew Megatron wanted a word if Soundwave wasn't using audio clips of others or talking himself. The Vow of Silence was recent, and he would admit it was quite frustrating sometimes to deal with the silent mech. But he wasn't too different himself in that regard.
He followed Soundwave to greet Megatron, the imposing mech standing menacingly in front of the ledge that looked out towards the north side of Kaon, his home city. Cyclonus found it odd Megatron wasn't on his throne as usual until the mech in question spoke.
"I admire your work, Cyclonus. You are a master of the blade and as swift as lightning."
"Thank you, Lord Megatron," he said finally.
Megatron then turned to him and clicked his glossa with the raise of a brow. "But I wonder if you can go after targets harder to kill, some that no one has ever managed to do."
"You name them, I can get rid of them."
"Elita One, Optimus Prime's commander."
It was surprising to hear her name among things. The Autobot sisters were untouchable; no one had ever beaten them. The perfect challenge. Elita One was one of the hardest people to attack let alone get close to. He wouldn't even know where to begin in his hunt.
"What about the other three?" Cyclonus found himself asking out of precaution.
Megatron sneered, "The three femmes? They are no threat. Elita is a real warrior. The others are showgirls with guns at best. If I recall, they are merely trophy femmes Optimus parades around as skilled fighters to make his team look good. They aren't any trouble."
Cyclonus could agree but he was wise enough to not take any bot lightly no matter what background. "Never judge anyone by appearance. Even the smallest of enemies can be the deadliest. If they are Elita One's sisters, they are just as dangerous."
"I assure you," the warlord stated stepping forward with his servos behind his back, "those femmes are no problem whatsoever. Take out the infallible Elita and you'll do more than just break up the posse. I think she might be special to Optimus' morale as well."
Hearing his leader growl the name made him ponder if the request was just to get rid of a commander or something more personal. It was not his place to judge. By his word given, he was to serve Megatron and do whatever he asked. According to his beliefs, all orders were to be taken as they are, ask questions later. He was an assassin mostly and that's what he was going to hunt Elita One down as.
When he left for Iacon, he flew into its outskirts near the last known location of Elita's coordinates supplied by Soundwave thirty minutes prior. She was using a trackable communications bay, and her voice was recognizable from the broadcasts. She was looking for assistance; Cyclonus was suspicious as to why. Keeping low, he navigated into dangerous territory and listened for any familiar voices or her pink form. Then he spotted her.
Elita held a broad stature, her helm with her crest and side panels extended out recognizable no matter where she was. Currently, she was hidden with her back facing him from gunfire. A Decepticon sniper had her pinned. Normally, Cyclonus would wait until he was alone to strike, not liking to take someone out already preoccupied if he could help it. But Elita One was not a typical femme. Her rank and past made her an enemy even he couldn't afford to keep alive no matter what his rules of combat were.
He approached her as she was distracted and brought out his sword when he heard a small shift behind him. He whipped around trying to strike whoever snuck up on him only for his blade to be caught by Chromia with Arcee balancing on her shoulders like an acrobatic act. They were neutral at first before giving wide grins when suddenly, Moonracer flipped over Arcee's helm and sent a sharp kick to her jaw. The girls had the audacity to laugh at him like clowns. He didn't want to admit he was impressed. No one had ever gotten lucky enough to hit him before.
Without a single word, no boasts or taunts, Cyclonus sprinted at them with both swords out. The femmes scattered, shooting at him. He swiped quickly at the one called Arcee but she dodged and backflipped out of his reach. He was abruptly struck in the back by a blast and winced, whirling around to then aim at Moonracer. He managed to use his swords to deflect multiple other shots but the girls kept bombarding him, dancing around him skillfully.
They were a coordinated team, far better than the Decepticon battalions. When Elita One suddenly charged him, he had little time to defend himself. He grazed her side, but she didn't yield to the wound. Punched in the face as he was kicked in the spine, all four of them were tag teaming until he exploited Moonracer's slower movements between them. Timing it right, he grabbed her arm as she threw a punch and swung her into Chromia. Arcee was deflected and tossed. Elita One grunted and cracked her neck with arrogance well deserved.
Cyclonus clashed his swords together in warning until more gunfire erupted. Bumblebee and several other Autobots came barreling through the area, and he knew he had run out of time as the sisters regrouped ready to take him on still. Knowing he had no other choice, he fled.
As he flew away from the blasts, Cyclonus snarled at himself for forgetting about the sisters. He knew he shouldn't have gone by Megatron's word and thought of them less of a threat. They were dangerous, especially as a team. Together, they were untouchable, and he still tried to get near the most brutal sister of the four without considering she might not have been alone. Foolish...
It was an error he would not make again. Megatron's bias of Elita's sisters was probably a spite of their background alone. Cyclonus stuck to his wisdom and recited in his mind their past didn't decide whether they were a threat. He already knew they were. Well, at least he figured out one thing from the encounter: the sisters protected each other and that meant they would always be among one another. Dangerous, yes, but with the proper counter attacks and the element of surprise, it was hard but entirely possible to get rid of half of them if not all in one go. He would certainly report that to Megatron so he could use it to plan the approach better. Assassinating them wasn't possible yet. Separating them by death or by distraction was the only way.
Cyclonus grumbled to himself about his failure, but he intended to try again or see about finding any other weaknesses he could exploit. After all, there was more to being an assassin then just killing people. Hunting and destroying were primitive tactics. Observance was a power of great patience and possibly the best rewarding action he could take. He would find a way; he always did.
Upon returning to Kaon to safety, he thought of the situation as not a failure but a learning experience. Failure to him was if he stopped trying, and he had no intention of doing so. Cyclonus had time. His promise to Megatron was to at least find out what else he could as he planned his next attempt.
Starscream's Seekers
In war, there were not many times of peace. To roam without fear of being shot down or simply taking a stroll to stretch. Calm before the storm even if there was.
Slipstream crouched on a ledge of the highest building in the region with Starscream perched on the antenna balancing himself with ease. They both scouted from their height for any unknown or Autobots ships not meant to be in Polyhex. Right now, it was under Decepticon control. It was Starscream's job to secure it and keep it in their possession until otherwise ordered. But they were not caged birds. Seekers needed to use their wings every day. It was in their nature. Their claws were used to climb buildings and their wings were meant to fly; denying that was misery.
Other Seekers from the shadows waited silently in their places, listening for oddities and potential threats. Starscream was the highest for as their leader, it was his duty to be the observer most of all. If he didn't give the all-clear, no one would take to the skies even if some of them didn't like to obey him. The dangers were too great.
He was careful, not wanting to get any one of his Seekers killed. He moved to face downward and took two steps with his servos, clinging to the antenna with a grunt and optics steady as he peered out a hundred and eighty degrees before crawling to the other side for the remaining visual skyline and all the traffic below. The Seekers still remained where they were keeping low to the ledges to blend in with the building just in case. All was safe it seemed.
Starscream lowered to press his chest against the antenna in a vertical slow crawl down before suddenly leaping off and twisting to have his back facing the building in a free fall. Over three thousand meters from the ground floor, Starscream dived. As soon as the others saw him take the risky leap with no sign of gunfire or any ships still, they followed. In a flock, eight Seekers were falling, wings pressed back keeping a sharp eye of their distance left. Starscream was ahead of them so his reactions were their key to navigating safely. As soon as Starscream deemed a comfortable height for a relaxing flight, his wings expanded and his thrusters on his back ignited. Even in robot mode, he held a sense of style in his flying.
Slipstream and Skywarp twirled around one another upon pulling up to straighten out. Sunstorm, Ramjet, and Thundercracker leveled out quickly and enjoyed the breeze while Thrust, Novastorm, and Dirge playfully bounced off one another like they were leap frogging. Starscream grinned as he soared with his servos close to his chassis and rolling a few times midair with a chuckle.
The Cybertron skies were theirs to take. The peaceful flight had them dancing around one another. Thundercracker synced with Skywarp and both rotated around each other in a horizontal hurricane pattern. Slipstream did a wave motion in her flight before going upside down over Ramjet and Novastorm. They both tracked the movement with wide grins and snickers before copying her to loop over her in return.
It had been some time since they had flown as a group. Starscream missed it as much as Slipstream, his second-in-command of the Seeker clan. Granted, they had lost a few of the members since the start of the war as well as the fact that half his forces were elsewhere, so it wasn't possible to fly as a whole group again. But they didn't dwell on that. Instead, they took their enjoyment, though brief, in stride as best they could.
Skywarp and Thrust started racing, going higher than the rest of the Seekers flying about. The kick of energy, however, drove the purple Seeker to push his speed to the max which resulted in his teleport powers flaring up. As soon as he became determined to outmatch the other, his top speed caused him to emit a shockwave of transparent blue ripples that ran above the entire with a sonic boom. Skywarp stopped mid twirl and fell back into a dive past Thrust laughing while the maroon mech growled a little at being beaten. The others, especially Dirge, were cackling.
Like binary suns, Thundercracker and Novastorm orbited each other in a coil pattern, only breaking loose when Starscream aimed at them for him to cut between them. They, of course, teased the other mockingly after he did it. It was humorous to some, stupid to others, but they all tolerated in-group humor as no Seeker was above some arrogance. Compared to what they could get away with among themselves against with the Decepticons as a whole, the Seeker clan knew their humor well enough to not care what was said regardless of what jabs were made. They could be as carefree about it as they wanted.
Dirge twisted himself vertically to whip the air around him in a pseudo tornado and some of his fellow Seekers used the winds like a makeshift rollercoaster. Starscream let the winds carry him as he flipped over and put his arms behind his helm. It was the most relaxation he was probably going to get out of everything.
When they heard a faint boom, they all paused and hovered in the air alert. They communicated in small whispers in their common Vos dialect as they scanned for the source of the noise. They discovered it was from some younglings lighting a firework or something. No real harm. Still, they didn't wander far from each other, circling to make absolute sure it was just a simple mistake. Once in the clear, they took off again.
Sunstorm laughed at Slipstream flying below him and bopping his noseplate before summoning his Heat Seeker ability and fired it into thin air much to the other's annoyance until he managed to make the blasts form rings momentarily. Most all the Seekers flew through each of the rings, one behind the other then made a wave effect using all of them with Slipstream and Novastorm in the middle orbiting each other like synchronized entertainers. They split off at end, circling randomly around but kept close still to not be singled out and struck just in case there was any potential threat present they were unaware of. Still, their antics among themselves made their spirits fly among the dread.
Starscream and Slipstream were the happiest, though their pride wouldn't let them admit it out loud. The others were soothed and sedated with their daily flight, especially among their own, but the two both yearned to be a real flock again and not just a group for combat purposes. No one knew just how important it was for them to finally be as they were supposed to be. Not even Megatron could understand that, and he didn't need to. In moments of peace, the skies belonged with who they were designed for: the Seekers of Cybertron.
Homecoming
Megatron slammed his fist into the console with a growl, fangs clashing together. "Dah! Those Autobots just don't know when to quit!"
Starscream huffed, "And retreating to our base on Chaar is the best course of action?"
"Do yourself a favor, Starscream, and shut up while you have the chance," Blackarachnia said.
The Seeker tensed and snarled at the femme. The warlord ignored both of them as he rolled his optics. "Chaar is the safest we can go from prying Autobot eyes. It will serve as our threshold of the Decepticon empire while I man Kaon for the time being without having to worry about unwanted losses."
The black, yellow, and purple femme asked, "And the Autobots won't be able to get near the planet?"
Megatron then grinned maliciously, "If those wretched buffoons get within a solar system away from it, we'll know. Soundwave is more than prepared to rig the base with sensors powerful enough to prevent any infiltration, including space bridge lock-ons. It will be our haven away from Cybertron until I can conquer it."
The planet in question was more or less a barren rock of a world with the Constructions working consistently to make good time in its finishing touches. It held Kaon architecture, and a huge landing pad for Megatron's vessel. The Harbinger and the Maelstrom were the two current large vessels available for transport. As Megatron's ship, the Galactica, landed, his two lieutenants were the first to depart the vessel with him trailing behind. They both saw the Vehicon soldiers hard at work helping the Constructions with final touches as well as programming with Soundwave directing them. To their surprise, Megatron's loyal juggernaut, Lugnut, and one of the few triple changers in their main commander line, Blitzwing, were present. The duo seemed to not regard Starscream or Blackarachnia with high praises against the leader they practically fawned over.
Abruptly, Blitzwing's crazy persona, the dreadful random monster that occupied his otherwise already split mind, breached through his control and snaked his serpent-like blood red glossa out through his pitch-black faceplates as soon as he saw them. The deadly red demonic optics that was nothing short of a reptile's glared at them as they approached. He was one of the few mechs both Starscream and Blackarachnia couldn't command as the anger and craziness would not obey no matter what they did…not to mention how dangerous both sides of his personality proved in contrast to his polite calm one. Very few did Blitzwing fear or listen to and for good reason. When he snarled at them with his crooked, red fanged smile, lubricant saliva dripping from between his clasped shut teeth, Starscream cowered and Blackarachnia kept still with a grimace but otherwise let Megatron pass her so he could deal with the madness that was the mech. Before Megatron could order him properly, a different commander beat him to it.
"Blitzwing, yield!"
Blitzwing's upper lip trembled with a vicious growl at not being able to torment his least favorite bots, but he didn't challenge the bot who gave the command, instead faceplates rotating like a spinner to his angry red-faced persona who huffed and crossed his arms pouting. Lugnut merely looked at him with his nine optics' lid shutters positioned to mimic raised brows but wasn't bold enough to challenge her either.
"You have got to be kidding me," muttered Starscream.
The Vehicons observing the encounter in what set Blitzwing off moved aside immediately as a larger version of them stormed through. Megatron just smirked at the appearance of his Vehicon Commander. Starscream kept to the side of Megatron while Blackarachnia wasn't fazed but didn't like the other femme out of spite more than fear.
"Matriarch, it has been a while," Megatron said. "I would recognize the Maelstrom being in pristine condition under its captain."
The Matriarch tilted her head unenthusiastically as he expected of her and peered between them with a disapproving voice. "Unfortunately...I take it we are to hunker down here, my lord?"
"Until I find a new breach of Optimus' defenses, we must reconcile and rethink our strategies. Chaar cannot be touched by Autobots, and it's never going to."
Lugnut interrupted, "As if any Autobot is stupid enough to go in the middle of a planet full of Decepticons."
Blitzwing's calm, blue-faced personality finally appeared and said, "You'd be surprised. Those like Wheeljack and Hot Rod have been known to jump into dangerous situations without any plan or reason. And they are still kicking which either says something about them or says something about us."
"Nice of your good side to finally join the party, three-face," Blackarachnia mused.
"Nevertheless," Megatron said, "this will be our home away from home for the time being. I expect each and every one of you to play nice and keep it operational. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Lord Megatron," Starscream sneered.
The Matriarch had her servos posed behind her back as she stated bluntly, "Crystal."
"Blackarachnia, you'll be in charge of the base for the time being. Matriarch, I know you will handle military operations of the troops. And Starscream," Megatron hissed, much to the Seeker's displeasure, "you are my second-in-command, not a king. Act like one, won't you?"
As Megatron left the group to attend to other matters, Starscream patted the side of his leg growling. He spotted Blitzwing and Lugnut each chuckling to themselves. He approached and pointed in the face of the tan and purple mech. "What are you two laughing at?! Get back to work! That's an order!"
Instead of pulling out his angry persona, Blitzwing's face swapped into his demonic randomized one and quickly snapped his jaws at Starscream who pulled back his servo in the nick of time leaning back cautiously with a furious but frightened expression on his faceplates at almost losing a digit. Blitzwing gave a sinister laugh and stood up straight, looking at Starscream with a wicked grin and a snort before leaving to do as he was told.
"Careful, Screamer, wouldn't want those pretty claws getting chopped off," The Matriarch scoffed, twiddling her fingers in emphasis.
"Don't you have others to bother with your so-called commands, Commander? That's a title for a real officer, not one bred from a lab."
"At least I can give them out competently."
Blackarachnia, for once, stood between him and The Matriarch with a scowl facing the femme. "Why don't you do your job instead of remarking every single hatred that comes through that unfiltered mind? It's not his fault you're broken inside like a cheap knockoff toy."
The Matriarch growled dangerously but Blackarachnia matched her anger with a venomous sneer, boasting a few small fangs. The large Vehicon then replied, "And that's coming from the lieutenant Megatron only keeps around to babysit. What's your other use? Keeping him from being lonely?"
Blackarachnia's spine plating raised but Lugnut suddenly gestured for The Matriarch to leave and nearly pushed Blackarachnia away, pointing at Starscream last. "Both of you are acting like younglings! You, get back to your station! And the two of you, this isn't your normal territory or chain of command out here. I suggest you get to where you need to go…NOW."
Starstream was about to retort but Blackarachnia heeded her usual subordinate's words wisely and dragged the Seeker away despite wanting badly to rip out The Matriarch's spark. They both left behind the few Decepticons that weren't the greatest of allies when outright pissed. They could hear Lugnut and a now furious Blitzwing arguing with the large Vehicon in the background.
"Slagger," snarled Blackarachnia. "And Megatron thought it was a good idea to try and make mere troopers into super soldiers. A monster more like it."
"That's Megatron's Chaar for you," he said. "This planet will be the greatest shame of the Decepticon empire, letting our fellow troops rot on some wasteland. If I were ruler-"
"Oh, the Decepticons would be dead. Hate to say, Starscream, but while you may surpass Megatron with on-the-fly planning, you could not run an entire army. The Seekers you can lead because they are the same type as you. I've seen you against all other various types of bots; you can't handle those like Lugnut and Blitzwing who are a different class type than you as well as vicious in personality. Your arrogance undermines you all the time and unlike Megatron, everyone knows they can beat you. Megatron's undisturbed from his throne for a reason."
Starscream snorted, "As if you're immune to judgement."
"I'm not," she then smirked, "I just know when not to bitch about it normally. But that soldier, I would love to take a hammer to her thick skull."
"She is rather…uncouth, isn't she?"
For once, the two were in agreement. As they went to the tallest building on the base, Megatron's temporary citadel on Chaar and the command center, they passed Decepticons they didn't encounter a lot outside of special operations. Lockdown was a rarity to spot, so was Skyquake and Dreadwing, aerial twins who were brought in when the battles were too much to handle. They were both some of the largest Seekers known, only rivaled by Jetfire, Jetstorm, and Sky Garry.
The base itself didn't come off as comforting much but it was definitely a place they could be safe for now. It was decent at most. But they would make do with it with the Autobots bearing down on them on Cybertron. Any safe haven they could afford…
"What do you think about this place overall? Think it will last?"
"Under whom?" The Seeker rolled his optics, "Megatron is over his head with this base. I doubt it will last and if he passes, no one will have the capability to maintain a waste of space."
Blackarachnia shrugged and grinned, "There's no place like home."
"Soon, Cybertron will be home again. That, my dear, I can assure you."
AN: Another round of stories from different perspectives. I know they say Grimlock's voice was lost through the Insecticons but I kind of found it more fitting for Shockwave to have screwed it up. Of course, by the events in the overall story, he has gotten it repaired because unlike previous incarnations, he was proven to have had a normal, deep baritone voice with a regular speech pattern. Also, the encounter with Cyclonus was intentionally going to be just Elita One but I felt there needed to be an explanation as to what encountering Arcee was like as well because of their interactions.