Chapter 2
The Nemesis glided through the cold void of space, heading toward the outer reaches of the sector where the Autobots had been spotted. Starscream stood in the war room, his red optics reflecting the dim glow of the tactical screens as he watched the approach of the enemy forces.
His mind was a battlefield, each thought at odds with the next. The pressure was mounting, the weight of leadership bearing down on him more than ever. He could feel the eyes of his troops on him, waiting for his orders, waiting for him to show them that he was not just a failure, not just the betrayer who had dared to challenge Megatron.
You'll never be Megatron, his inner voice whispered. You're nothing but a fool who thinks he can command. You'll fail again. Just like you always do.
Starscream's fists clenched, his wings twitching in frustration. He couldn't afford to let those thoughts overwhelm him. He had to push forward, for the sake of the Decepticons and his own ambition. But every decision, every action, felt like a gamble. A misstep could be the end of him.
"Starscream," Soundwave's voice cut through his turbulent thoughts. "The Autobots have deployed their forces. They appear to be preparing for an assault on our energy supplies."
Starscream turned toward his communications officer, his face a mask of cold determination. "We will not allow them to succeed. Alert the troops. We are going on the offensive."
"Understood, Starscream."
Starscream's red optics flickered briefly as he turned to the war table, where Knockout stood, casually examining his reflection in a nearby surface with a smirk that would have been more at home in a spa than a war room. The Decepticon medic's polished frame gleamed under the dim lighting, and his vanity, as always, was apparent.
"Ready the fighter squadrons," Starscream commanded, his voice steady but carrying an edge. "We will strike fast and hard. We will remind the Autobots that leadership has changed. We will make them fear us once again."
Knockout lifted an elegant hand, gesturing toward the screen with a dramatic flourish. "Of course, Starscream. But perhaps we should consider a more refined approach? A direct confrontation with the Autobots could be messy and undignified—and I do so enjoy looking my best in battle. A little finesse could go a long way."
Starscream's optics narrowed, irritation flickering beneath his cool demeanor. "Knockout, this isn't a fashion show. We're fighting a war, not hosting a beauty pageant."
Knockout chuckled lightly, clearly unphased. "Oh, I'm well aware, Starscream. But you know, one must maintain a certain... elegance even in the chaos of battle. Besides, I'm more than capable of making sure our victory is both efficient and aesthetically pleasing."
Starscream exhaled sharply, unwilling to be sidetracked. "Fine. Just make sure your vanity doesn't interfere with the mission. We need precision. And we need results."
Knockout flashed a sly grin. "Results? Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure the Autobots suffer—in more ways than one. Just remember, a flawless victory is only worth it if you look good doing it."
Starscream's red optics flashed with barely contained irritation, but he couldn't afford to argue further. Knockout's talents—whether he liked it or not—were valuable. The Decepticon medic was as dangerous as he was self-absorbed, and that was something Starscream would need in the coming battle.
"Ready your units," Starscream ordered. "We will strike fast and hard, and I will not tolerate failure. We show the Autobots the true might of the Decepticons."
Knockout saluted with an exaggerated gesture, the smirk never leaving his face. "Oh, I do so love a good battle. Lead the way, Starscream. I'll be right behind you, looking fantastic as always."
As Knockout departed to prepare his squadron, Starscream stood for a moment longer, allowing the tension in the air to settle. He knew Knockout's mind was always elsewhere, often distracted by his own image and the finer things in life, but when it came down to it, the medic was a fierce warrior who could hold his own in battle.
The Nemesis's weapons systems hummed as preparations for the offensive were completed. Starscream stood alone for a moment longer, steeling himself for the battle ahead. This was it. The Autobots would not just be a threat to his forces—they would be the proving ground for his leadership. He could not afford to fail.
A ping from the control panel broke his reverie, and the face of Optimus Prime flickered to life on the screen. The calm, ever-confident Autobot leader stared back at him, seemingly daring him to make a move.
Starscream clenched his fists, his wings trembling with barely contained aggression. He would not be underestimated. He would prove himself. Not just to the Autobots, but to the Decepticons as well.
"I won't fail," he muttered under his breath, his voice low but resolute. "Not this time."
The battle was about to begin.