Monday, January 27, 2014

Fanfiction part 2

STOP!!! This isn't the beginning! This is!

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you haven't seen all of Transformers Prime and Predacons Rising, and read Transformers: Exodus, go no further! I refer to major plot developments that will give spoilers, and also half of this story won't make any sense if you don't read the novel. You really ought to play Fall of Cybertron and/ or read the Rage of the Dinobots and Beast Hunters comics as well. Everyone should, just because they are so awesome. 

Legal stuff: I don't own any of these characters or settings and this is just a fan work.

So last time, Starscream got some come-upance and Megatron did a little Spark searching...


It was nearly night when Megatron neared Kaon, a third of the way around the planet from the Well. The city was dark but here and there molten metal still glowed in its unquenchable smelting pits. Darkmount towered at the edge of the city, and that was where Megatron made his landing. It was not what he’d expected – he had seen it when Unicron had brought him here only days before, and the throne room had not looked like this. The top of the throne was shattered, and faintly glowing Energon was splattered across the black metal. Energon streaked the dented floor as well, along with burn marks and deep gouges from claws.
Predacons.
No sooner had he thought it than Predaking swooped in from a higher level and landed with a boom that echoed through the tower. He advanced on Megatron, staying in the shape of a beast, as he’d learned to do when fighting the gladiator. Megatron was not here to fight, and he held up his hand.
“Predaking, a word.”
The Predacon growled, but after a moment he transformed, his posture still aggressive.
“I came looking for Starscream, but I see you found him first.” He looked around at the destruction. Only Starscream could provoke that kind of rage. “And terminated him?”
“He still lives,” Predaking said. “Only because he has not been punished enough.”
“And when you determine he has been?”
“Then I will burn the Spark out of whatever is left of him!” Predaking clenched his fist before Megatron’s face. Megatron did not back down.
“I wish to speak with him.”
“You cannot save him.”
This was infuriating. “Did I say save? I said speak!” The Predacon made no move and Megatron stepped closer to him. “He is my lieutenant. I should demand you hand him over, but all I ask is a word.”
“Very well, but only so you may see what will happen to you if you dare approach me again. Skylynx. Show Megatron to the dungeon.” Another Predacon swooped in and transformed. It seemed they had all learned the trick. He glared at Megatron and then wordlessly motioned for him to follow. Megatron knew where his own prison was, but it seemed the Predacons did not, for they headed to a storage level on a middle floor of the tower. He would have found the unexpected location on his own however, by following the glowing trail of Energon that dotted the floor.
“He’s in there,” Skylynx said, stopping before a door. “We should lock you in there right beside him, so we don’t run out of toys.” The door slid open and Megatron looked inside. He could see little in the dark, and definitely nothing that looked like Starscream. He was about to switch his optics to infrared when he spotted a faint blue glow. Stepping closer, he saw why he hadn’t noticed the Seeker – he’d been looking for the angular silhouette of wings.
Starscream lay curled up facing the wall, one wing flat against the floor, while the other, which should have stuck up in the air, was gone, ripped off near the base. His hands covered his face, and every now and then he shuddered slightly. At the sound of footsteps, he froze.
Megatron turned to Skylynx, and said, “Leave us.” He noticed Starscream try not to react, cracking one red eye and then closing it again. When the Predacon finally shuffled out of the room and closed the door – Megatron suspected he would not open it again – Starscream looked up, amazement and suspicion warring on his face.
“Megatron?” he whispered, his voice staticky, then, louder, “What are you doing here?” He tried to sit up, but his arm was leaking Energon and lubricant and it failed under his weight. He settled for propping himself on one elbow, never taking his eyes off of Megatron.
“I came looking for you to warn you off whatever you were planning, and discuss an alternative. But it appears I must rescue you first.”
Starscream looked around, as though for someone who might be in on a joke, then up at Megatron, confusion turning to a flood of relief. He reached out a shaking hand towards Megatron’s foot.
“You – you did not abandon me, master?” His voice crackled out at the end – perhaps from damage, perhaps from emotion. There was even a chance he was being sincere.
Megatron knelt beside Starscream to examine his injuries, but the Seeker flinched away from his hand. Megatron let his surprise wash into sadness. When was the last time he’d laid a hand on a bot except to wound or threaten? It must have been with Orion Pax. The sadness became palpable – physically painful even – but he pushed it away.
“Show me your wounds,” he insisted, pushing Starscream’s shoulder armor down so he could see his back. The plating on one whole side of his torso was chewed up and partially torn off, nearly exposing vital inner wiring and mechanisms, and he was covered all over with shallower gashes from claws and teeth. Energon, darkly swirled with a film of lubricants, had pooled beneath him, seeping from behind shattered plating where he’d been crushed. Although it was not life-threatening, the worst injury was to his wing. The metal was twisted along the edge, having been torn off rather than cut. It had then been crudely welded, by dragonfire if Starscream’s bubbled paint were any indication. The weld was not careful, likely only closing the wound at all because Energon burned hot enough to melt metal, and the main Energon line of the wing still leaked a thin blue trail over his back.
“Starscream,” Megatron began.
“Don’t tell me,” Starscream said quietly, staring at the floor. Megatron said nothing. The loss of a wing cut to the core of who Starscream was –Air Commander Starscream. That was when he was at his best, and his skill at flying and commanding other flyers was one of the main reasons Megatron had kept him around despite millennia of treachery. He knew being grounded made the Seeker desperate. Even the temporary loss of his T-cog, and his relief when it was replaced, had kept him on his best behavior right up to the end of the war, although it was anyone’s guess how long that would have lasted. He’d already shown signs of cracking whenever his rivalry with Shockwave had come into play.
Megatron stood up and activated his high frequency transmitter, composing a quick message.
“Before we go,” he said, when he’d sent the coded burst, “we must figure out where you stand.”
---

Ratchet looked up from scanning Ultra Magnus’s electrical systems. Bulkhead and Arcee had already gathered by the reconnected Grid console, looking curiously at the waveform that had popped onscreen. Ratchet walked over and touched the blinking indicator.
“We’re receiving a high frequency signal,” he said, feeling a bit like a recording, “With an embedded message.”
“Starscream,” Arcee and Bulkhead said in unison.
Ratchet shook his head. “Megatron!” He opened the message, already guessing what it might say. “Send a ground bridge to my coordinates. Have your medical facilities on standby.”
“A new take on the same old tune,” said Bulkhead.
---

“Those Predacons will never let us go,” Starscream said, now sitting up and supporting himself on his less damaged arm.
“I’ve taken care of that. Once you’re out of here I will talk to Predaking.”
Starscream started to laugh, but grabbed his side and waited for the pain to subside before continuing. “You think you’ll have better luck? They hate you as much as me.”
Megatron thought that phrasing was a little ambiguous, but he let it go. “They do not represent justice on Cybertron. Whatever crimes we have committed may demand justice, but until then, no vendetta shall stain the new Cybertron with spilled Energon.”
“Well it’s a little late for that,” Starscream sneered. “Wait – you’re talking about when a government is set up! But that’s my-”
“It’s happening without you, Starscream. The war is over. Optimus has restored Cybertron and the AllSpark.” He didn’t say at what cost, for fear he would kill the Seeker if his reaction was as inappropriate as he thought it would be. He could tell Starscream was relieved to hear the news, but he suspected only because it made Cybertron a better prize.
“Do you remember early in the war, on Trypticon Station,” Megatron went on, “the first of many times you openly defied me?”
Starscream sighed. “Here we go. A list of all my misdeeds. We’ll be here awhile.”
“You were right.”
“Well of course I – wait! Really?” Starscream stared at Megatron, surprise quickly shifting to suspicion.
“You had withheld Dark Energon from me, fearing that I would use it to lay waste the planet – which I did - whereas you would have preserved Cybertron and brought it back to its golden age under the Decepticons.” He held up his hand, sensing Starscream’s growing smugness. “That is not what you were right about, because you could never have done it.” He watched him seethe a little before continuing. “But it can happen now - a golden age! The planet is healing, and the space bridges are open again. Soon colonists and refugees will bring back millennia of knowledge and discoveries from unknown reaches of space. It will make up for time lost, not just in the war, but during the eons when our civilization was stagnating.”
He watched Starscream’s reaction. There was a hint of excitement on his face, which he tried to hide, as well as his ever-present ambition.
“The question, Starscream, is whether you still wish to see such a world, if you cannot rule it. You can be a part of it, or become a footnote in history, a grasping lieutenant on the losing side.”
Starscream said nothing and Megatron could tell the words cut deep. A dream warped into obsession over thousands of years did not change so easily. Look what it had taken in his own case. The Seeker looked away, his eyes casting a dim red glow around the tiny room. Every now and then the glow flickered as his system tried to cope with his extensive damage.
“It’s been a long time since…”
The green light of a ground bridge suddenly flooded the room.
“Took them long enough,” Megatron growled, stooping down to pull Starscream to his feet. An angular blue leg and thin arm moved between them. Megatron looked up.
“Soundwave? Where in the pit did you spring from?”
Soundwave whirled and looked at him, and Megatron heard his own words played back.
“If you cannot rule…” Then Soundwave grabbed Starscream, opened a second ground bridge, and the two of them vanished.

Ratchet pushed the ground bridge control lever up and turned to the swirling portal. After a moment, Megatron stomped through, looking furious. Ratchet stepped toward him.
“Megatron, what happened? You requested medical attention.”
Megatron walked past him. “That was for Starscream, but you took too long.”
“Did something happen to him?” Ratchet asked. “Did he… not make it?”
The other Autobots tried to look appropriately somber, but none of them was particularly saddened by the possibility.
“I suspect he is still alive,” said Megatron. “But I fear we have bigger problems. Soundwave has returned, and he bridged away with Starscream somewhere.”
“He was trapped in another dimension,” said Wheeljack.
Megatron shook his head. “He got himself out.”
“But isn’t Soundwave your most loyal bot?” asked Arcee.
“He was my most loyal Decepticon. A true believer in the cause. If he perceives that I have abandoned that cause, he will not likely let it die simply because its founder says so. And he is a very dangerous bot.” He shook his head. “And since Predaking has been robbed of his vengeance, he’ll likely be on the warpath too.”


To be continued...

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