Transformers: Cold Steel - Chapter 2
The Morning Star Cantina, Tarn.
2 solar cycles earlier...
Laughter filled the cantina each time an intoxicated Decepticon was pushed off the circle and hit the floor. As the winner drunkenly strutted around the circle, other Decepticons raised their drinks in praise, cheering on the game of strength.
To win in this contest, opponents simply had to push the other off the circle, a section of the cantina raised a couple of feet off the floor. The amount of energon consumed didn't allow anyone to think of a more elaborate game, which was fine with those who watched. So long as whoever was tossed off the circle hit the floor harder than the last loser.
The establishment, in the western region of the city-state of Tarn, was called The Morning Star and only Decepticons were allowed in for free. Everyone else was charged an entrance fee and they usually paid while at gunpoint. It was the only bar in the area and anything else was mega-miles away. The unscrupulous owner, who employed a few brutes for security, took advantage of that fact, relieving all of their shanix one way or another.
Inside the pub were Decepticons of all kinds. Occupying every table and seat along the bar, leaning against the walls and huddled in every corner. They spent the time drinking, trading war stories, boasting about how many Autobots they had dispatched and occasionally challenging one another to a fight.
The pub has reached its capacity tonight, resulting in a rowdier than the usual crowd. The reason was due to the red clouds approaching from the west, signifying the coming of an acid rain storm. Those outside needed shelter and the Morning Star was the only place available in this sector. The owner didn't care since the shanix was flowing in faster than he could pour energon.
As the next round inside the circle was about to start, the bar doors slid open. The bouncer, tipsy after a few high-voltage shots, turned to greet the newcomers with the usual routine of intimidation to make sure they understood who was in charge here. When the bouncer saw who it was, he sobered up immediately.
"You know who I am, right?" asked the newcomer as he walked in, followed by a group of Decepticons.
The bouncer nodded once with his wide-eyed optics locked on the mech's face. He had never met the newcomer before but many had described him in stories. The facial features were sharp with an underbite that stuck out far enough to appear uncomfortable. The mech's head was shaped like a helmet, with mini spikes running up on either side and a larger one on the forehead. The Decepticon's upper body carried extra armor, making him seem larger than he truly was. Purple highlights covered the dark blue and green body, the only other color present were red optics that addressed the crowd stuffed inside the pub. The only weapon visible was a battle axe, attached to the newcomer's back, well within reach if trouble was to arise.
Shifting his line of sight towards the ceiling, the bouncer stepped aside to allow the Decepticon and his envoy inside, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the group who looked almost as terrifying.
As the crowd continued its reveries, the music playing seemed to grow louder, when in fact it was the crowd who became quieter when they saw who had just entered. Everyone made room for the newcomers to pass by. Tables were abandoned, some with drinks unfinished, while those further away made sure to remain hidden in the shadows. Along the bar rail, patrons shifted to the closest corner, moving out of the way as the group walked right up to address the owner.
"The usual for my warriors," the lead Decepticon said to the owner before turning around to address the crowd. "Don't the rest of you have somewhere else to be?"
The crowd looked at each other, unsure of what to do, waiting to see what someone else would do. Then a voice broke the silence, "But the acid rain is coming."
The Decepticons at the bar, who had helped themselves to the free energon, put their drinks down as their leader looked for the one who spoke. The crowd froze as they watched the Decepticon in charge reach for his axe and pull it off his back slowly. "Who was it that thinks this is a conversation?"
The crowd didn't say a word.
"You know, maybe I don't need to know exactly who said it," The Decepticon nodded to his crew at the bar, who turned to face the crowd, all armed and aiming their weapons at the drunken patrons.
Before anyone protested or panicked, a commotion was heard coming from the rear. The crowd backed away, revealing the Decepticon who spoke out of turn, being forced forward by his peers. With a final push, the unfortunate Decepticon was shoved to the floor as everyone else backed away.
On his knees, the Decepticon tried to talk his way out of his predicament, "Hey listen, Grindstalker. I'm sorry, all I'm saying is -"
"Interesting," interrupted Grindstalker. "You think I actually give a damn about what you have to say. Well since you have an opinion to share, why not come a little closer so that I may hear you better."
The Decepticon shook his head, refusing to move.
Grindstalker's expression flashed a smile before snapping his arm up and forward, releasing the axe through the air.
The Decepticon slid across the floor as the axe struck him in the chest. Everyone looked on and did nothing when Grindstalker's victim skidded to a stop. The Decepticon, still alive, tried to move but the weight of the axe buried in his chest prevented him from escaping.
"You know, I savor these special up close and personal moments," said Grindstalker as he walked up to the Decepticon leaking energon across the floor. "This is where I can get to know someone for who they really are!"
Pushing down on the axe, forcing it deeper into the Decepticon's chest, Grindstalker's victim screamed until his vocal corder cracked. The sound of crushing metal was all that was heard until a backlash of energy surged through the Decepticon's body, up into his head and erupted out through his optics.
Shifting his attention from the dead Decepticon on the floor, Grindstalker stared at the rest of the crowd. " The Morning Star is closed! Don't bother finishing your drinks."
Without further hesitation, the crowd started to leave the bar quickly. Even the largest of the Decepticons didn't waste time as they sought the closest exits, pushing their way out, some commenting how the frontlines would be safer than this place.
Grindstalker turned back to his squad, who were all smiles as they continued drinking, enjoying how their boss cleared the place out. Grindstalker returned his attention to the owner, who wanted to leave his own establishment but was so afraid he couldn't move, as if his feet were bolted to the floor.
"Barkeep, I'll have the usual," said Grindstalker.
"Your usual, sir?" the owner managed to say. "If I'm not mistaken, this is your first time here. Usually, it's only your warriors that come in and...oh!"
The owner cursed himself for not catching on quicker as he bent down behind the bar and returned with a heavy, rectangular steel case. Placing it on the bar with an audible thump, the owner opened the case revealing its contents. Shanix. Filled up to the top and shining almost as bright as energon.
Grindstalker said nothing as his glare drilled straight into the owner's spark. "And the other one," The owner smiled nervously as he fetched another case, just as heavy as the first one.
"Looks like the drinks are on me tonight," Grindstalker said to his troops. "Primus knows I can afford it, even for wretches like you."
The crew laughed as they began to make themselves more comfortable and drink faster. "A toast to the future Lord of Cybertron. May he never run out of Autobots for target practice!"
Grindstalker took a seat at the bar as cups were raised in his honor, "Lord Grindstalker does have a nice ring to it." he mused. "However, anyone can place a title in front of their name. What counts is power. And I want it all."
One of Grindstalker's warriors finished his drink and decided to say, "Imagine all the shanix you'll collect once you're the one running Cybertron. You'll be rich enough to fill up the Sonic Canyons twice!"
"I seek power, not wealth," said Grindstalker as he eyed the Decepticon sharply, "The shanix is strictly to make what I desire possible"
Everyone at the bar stopped drinking and began listening as Grindstalker carried on. "Resources on Cybertron are scarce. In order to become powerful enough to overthrow Shockwave, I shall seek what I need off-world. While the intergalactic black market is plentiful in terms of weaponry and tech, Cybertronian technology is superior. Its presence is rare but not impossible to locate. The shanix I collect will purchase what I need."
"Why not just take what you need by force?" asked a member of his squad.
"And scare off all who sell it on the black market? What part of rare did you not understand?" rebuked Grindstalker.
The Decepticon who spoke turned away embarrassed as the others laughed. Grindstalker shook his head, he wouldn't discipline the idiot, he was quite content with how the night was unravelling. He turned to the owner as he rose to his feet and took a full cup of energon for himself. "You can reopen after we have left. Be sure to keep my squad happy. I'm headed to the upper level. And remember, no one must know why I'm here. There are enough rumors about my personal business flying around."
Grindstalker left the bar with his drink in hand, leaving his motley crew behind to drink to their spark's content. The group was made up of Grindstalker's finest warriors. While not the smartest batch of Decepticons, they were ruthless enough in any situation that required violence. Grindstalker didn't usually partake in collecting the shanix he needed, but tonight he decided he would oversee its collection. He had a feeling his troops were skimming off the top and keeping some for themselves. But now he had a good idea how much was being picked up, and since he was present, no one would dare to steal from him.
As he reached the second level of the Morning Star, Grindstalker walked onto the balcony to survey the area around him. From there, he looked over the twisted land where the war had left its mark. While ruins in this region looked much like the remains of any other Cybertronian city touched by the conflict, Grindstalker knew where he could find more shanix. Other bars could be looted, as well as locations where illegal gambling took place and small black market depots. Yes, he would take it all.
Eventually, he would overthrow Shockwave's position on Cybertron. Once he gained his new powers, whether it was strength enhancers, overwhelming firepower or more battle armor, none would stand in his way. Not even Megatron.
Grindstalker thought for a moment and wondered how he would deal with Megatron once he returned to Cybertron. Once he was in control of Cybertron, he would have an army at his disposal to deal with the Decepticon leader and his little squad. He decided worrying was a waste of time as he took a swig of energon from his cup.
As he went to swallow, Grindsatlker felt something poke him in the back of his head and realized it was the barrel of a gun.
"At this range, I'll crack your chrome wide open," someone said from behind. "But if you want to play the odds then by all means humor me. Because none of them are in your favor."