NIGHTBIRD: THE AFTERMATH
By Raksha
And when I call,
will you walk gently through my shadow?
The ones who sing at night -
The ones you dream of -
The ones who walk away
With their capes pulled 'round them tight,
Crying for the night -
Cry for the Nightbird
tonight.....
--Stevie Nicks, "Nightbird"
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Earth; September 1985
1. Starscream
He soared upward into the boundless blue of the sky, slicing
the cool wind with his precisely angled wings and delighting in the
sensation: he was moving at tremendous speed, unrestrained -- and
above all, he was alone. Always faster and more maneuverable than
any of the others, Starscream had outdistanced his pursuers within
minutes, and now even his remote sensors could pick up no trace of
them following him. Engines screaming in exhilaration, he leaned
into a sequence of climbs and drop-dives, pulling up just short of the
ground and climbing again, up and up into the sparkling blue of the
sky.
The rocky ground with its patches of brush and scrub grass
flashed by underneath him in an intoxicating blur. He streaked along
the jagged coastline, making an abrupt turn and shooting out over the
endless, deep-blue expanse of the Pacific. A short distance out from
shore, the waves rippled just enough to catch the sun as he dipped low
and skimmed along the surface. On impulse he went into a series of
rapidly spiraling rolls, so close to the surface that his wing-tips caught
the water and splashed it upward in a corkscrew shower of glistening
droplets. Straightening again, he leaned over so his left wing gouged
a churning furrow into the surface of the sea, then leaned to the right
to repeat the maneuver. The cool water, the warm sun, the freedom
and vastness of the sky -- it all felt wonderful. Starscream leveled
close to the waterline and rose at a low angle, slowing to a more
leisurely pace as he turned back toward the shoreline. The
exhilaration of the chase was fading into a relaxed satisfaction, a
pleasant smugness when he thought of the others, frantically searching
for him almost half a continent away.
Slowing his engines almost to a stall, he drifted the last few
feet toward the cliffsides and transformed amidst the jagged rocks,
coming to a landing halfway up the steeply sloping wall of the
shoreline. Above him, tufts of rough-edged grass marked the
boundary between the drop-off and the level land; below him the
waves foamed rhythmically against the boulders, slowly eating them
away over the eons.
He found a comfortable spot in the sun and sat down, putting
his feet up on a boulder in front of him. Leaning back, he rested his
head on his interlaced fingers and looked idly up at the sky. He smiled
to himself and thought about how he had come out on top in
Megatron's own little game.
Over the past few days, Megatron had taunted him almost
playfully with threats of being replaced -- hinting that he would relieve
Starscream of his rank, and she would be Decepticon
Subcommander in his place. She. Nightbird. An alien mechanoid
who knew nothing about the Decepticon cause, who had been alive
and conscious for only the barest amount of time, and who didn't even
speak the language -- or at least, Starscream had never heard her
speak. But either way, putting a totally inexperienced, newly-created
mechanism into the Subcommander's position would have been
disastrous to the war effort, and Starscream couldn't believe that
Megatron actually entertained such thoughts. Especially when
Starscream was the best Subcommander Megatron was likely to get.
His skill and natural talent were perhaps the only things that had
allowed him not only to hold onto his rank, but to stay alive under
Megatron's rule. And the thought that some female could show up out
of nowhere, capture his leader's fancy, and replace him, was not only
threatening but downright degrading.
And Megatron's relationship with Nightbird had antagonized
him also. Starscream thought of it even now with traces of resentment
-- the way she had followed Megatron around the land base like a
dark, soundless shadow; how her unflickering, intense topaz eyes had
followed Megatron's every move; how Megatron would look up from
his work sometimes and meet her gaze, and smile, and the shade of his
eyes would soften ever-so-briefly as though he had momentarily
dropped his guard ... Starscream had found the whole spectacle
repulsive. He wasn't sure why he'd reacted so strongly -- Megatron
had brought home sex toys before, and Starscream had never given a
damn. But with Nightbird it was different. It wasn't even that she had
shown Starscream up once or twice, though of course this rankled him
-- but Megatron had focused on her with an intensity that went beyond
mere physical attraction, and for some reason Starscream found it
personally offensive. It was his anger over this matter, more than
anything else, that had triggered Starscream's reaction to Megatron's
latest threat of replacing him. He'd attacked Megatron in the control
room, striking out with his fist and catching him off balance so the
Decepticon leader fell backward.... For a moment it had felt like
triumph, vindication. In the next instant Starscream found himself
enmeshed in an energy-cage, trapped and abandoned as the others left
the base. He'd been furious, and a little panicky -- he was a creature of
the skies, and if there was one thing he could not handle, it was to be
restrained or enclosed.
But he'd shown Megatron. After he'd forced himself to think
rationally for a second, it had been no great trick to escape the cage
and follow the others to the battle site. He'd found Nightbird, a
slender, almost delicate-looking shape silhouetted against her larger,
bulkier opponents, holding off an entire squad of Autobots on her own,
while Megatron stood back and watched her, the trace of an odd smile
playing about his lips. Well, Starscream had ended that little scene.
A well-aimed shot at Nightbird, and she was helpless in the Autobots'
clutches. Megatron stood frozen for an instant as though stunned,
then whirled on Starscream, his eyes flashing scarlet fire. Starscream
grinned maliciously and leapt into the air, while Megatron
commanded his entire army away from the Autobots and after him.
Oh, it had been delicious, those first few moments of the chase --
Starscream dodging a barrage of missiles and laser bolts while his
pursuers fell ever farther behind. The fact that a random shot had
knocked away one of the guns under his wings, had only added to the
excitement. There was nothing quite like surviving a close call to get
the energy circulating in your fuel lines.
Starscream smiled contentedly. From his relaxed position on
the rocks he looked up at the sky, following the circles of a single
white seagull high above. He would bum around the planet for a day
or two, until Megatron's fury had cooled, and then would make his
way gradually back towards headquarters. It was always the same
pattern: Starscream would infuriate Megatron and disappear for a
while -- a few hours, a day at most -- and then return like nothing had
happened. Megatron would glower at him and demand "What the hell
are you doing here?" -- "I live here," Starscream would retort, and
they would trade insults for a few minutes, until Megatron assigned
him some insignificant task and dropped the issue. It had been that
way the time Starscream planted the bomb in a human scientist's lab
that had almost destroyed the planet -- the time he had toyed with
Devastator's wiring and unleashed him against Megatron -- the time
he had tried to take control of the space bridge and use it to transport
all Decepticon fuel reserves to a hidden location -- and it would be that
way this time. Although, Megatron had seemed a little more irate this
time than those other times. Starscream thought it wise if he took two
or three days, instead of just one. Though the truth was, the other
Decepticons had probably already stopped looking for him. Megatron
was not one to waste huge quantities of fuel and firepower merely to
prove a point.
The seagull that had been wheeling overhead turned sharply
away from the coast and put on a sudden burst of speed, heading for
the distance. Starscream wondered lazily as to why -- when abruptly
he jolted to full alertness at the unmistakable sound of laser fire. A
bright beam sliced past him from above, so close that Starscream could
feel the heat. Frantically he dove behind the cover of the nearest large
boulder, as an additional hail of bolts flashed past him. Peering
around the edge of his boulder, he saw Skywarp on the rocks above
him, firing with both barrels.
Starscream transferred his one remaining laser to his left arm
and fired over the top if his barricade. Skywarp leapt back, but
returned fire so Starscream was forced to pull back. How had Skywarp
found him? Starscream wondered with a trace of concern. How had he
gotten here so fast?
He had his answer when the black form of Skywarp suddenly
shimmered and vanished. Starscream quickly scanned the
surroundings, finding nothing -- until the other jet materialized behind
him and unleashed a barrage of laser bolts. Starscream scrambled for
cover on the other side of his boulder as one of the bolts singed his
shoulder-plank. "Hey!" he cried out in pain and indignation.
"Enough already! Get lost!" He was obviously dealing with an over-
zealous follower of orders, who didn't know when to call off the
search. But Skywarp had always been that way.
"Get lost nothing," Skywarp replied. "Megatron wants you
brought in."
Starscream ducked from a renewed burst of fire. "You're
crazy!" he shouted from behind the barricade. "Megatron doesn't care
where I am. He just wants me out of his face for a few days, and you
know it. That's the way it always is."
Ominous silence met him in return. Cautiously Starscream
peered over the top edge of the boulder. Skywarp was not there.
Instinctively he whirled 180 degrees and fired into empty space, just as
Skywarp materialized there. Starscream's beam barely missed him.
Caught off guard, the black jet leapt for cover. An instant later he was
firing from the other side of the rock cluster, forcing Starscream back.
"Not this time, Starscream!" Skywarp called, in reply to
Starscream's last statement. "This time you've had it!"
Forget this, Starscream decided, weighing his one laser gun
against Skywarp's two. He was still faster than Skywarp, and could
easily lose him. He fired a final barrage at his opponent, causing him
to draw back -- then shot into the sky and transformed, dodging the
shots that followed him. Engines screaming, he tore across the
coastline and headed inland, toward the jagged mountain range that
rose form the flat ground in the distance. He was aware of Skywarp
following, but the other jet was rapidly falling behind.
Starscream had almost reached the shadow of the mountains
when Skywarp materialized at his wing-tip. He slammed sideways
into Starscream, forcing his left wing up and sending him into a
dizzying spin. The mountainsides shot toward him as he frantically
tried to pull out of the dive -- and succeeded, an instant before he
would have collided with the sheer wall of stone. Skywarp's engines
roared above him as he, too, narrowly avoided scraping the mountain
top. He wheeled away for another attack.
But Starscream was among the mountains now. Twisting and
winding among these peaks, he could apply his extraordinary flying
skill to its fullest. All of Skywarp's teleportation powers would not
help him if he couldn't find where Starscream had gone. Starscream
dodged jagged crags of rock, circled back through canyons and sliced
through valleys so narrow that he had to fly sideways, and was finally
secure in the knowledge that he had lost his pursuer.
More than a little shaken, he landed in a grove of scrubby
conifers that clung tenaciously to a jagged mountainside. The sky
above was still lit, but evening shadows had begun to gather between
the peaks, and it was in one of these deep pockets of shadow, between
the boulders and the conifers, that Starscream concealed himself. In
the distance he heard Skywarp's engines as the other jet scoured the
region from above. Starscream sat perfectly still as the hammering of
his fuel pump gradually slowed to normal. He had really not
expected this!
He jumped slightly as a triangular shape flashed into view
overhead, against the deepening bands of sunset. But Skywarp was
moving away, drawing a white vapor trail out behind him until he was
out of sight. Still, Starscream remained tense and motionless.
Skywarp was a sneaky bastard, and it wouldn't hurt to remain hidden
just a little while longer. The sky between the mountain peaks shaded
into a deep red that seemed to catch the highest crags on fire, and then
gradually faded into a soft violet. Starscream watched, listening
intently for the sound of jet engines, and hearing only the first
tentative raspings of Earthly nocturnal insects. The first stars
appeared as the sky deepened and the temperature dropped.
Starscream stirred finally, when his joints began to grow stiff from the
cool, damp air and his tense immobility. Still a bit cautiously he stood
and stretched, scanning the shadows. But nothing larger than a
cricket stirred among the rocks and trees, and gradually he began to
relax.
He was also somewhat hungry, and remembered that there
was a large oil refinery just north of the mountain chain, where the
Decepticons occasionally stopped to fuel up before battle. With a last
precautionary glance at his surroundings he hovered upwards,
transformed as he cleared the treetops, and headed north.
* * *
He set a leisurely pace at a gradual climb, and eventually rose
above the mountain peaks into the deep, clear black of the sky. There
was no moon, and the stars glittered intensely with some remote, cold
fire; they seemed very large and very close. Starscream began to enjoy
himself again, although the night wind against him was cold -- but he
found it invigorating, and looked forward to a good meal of refined oil.
The highlands were dropping down toward more level ground, and up
ahead he caught sight of the huge, bulky shape of the refinery. Lights
strung along its fences and patrols of armed guards indicated that the
factory was on alert status -- due, no doubt, to their suffering repeated
Decepticon raids. But Starscream was not concerned with their petty
human defenses. Tilting his wings, he angled down toward the
building, unleashing a burst of laser bolts at the tall chain-link fence
that arced over and enclosed the entire building, even over the top. A
shower of electric sparks from the partially-molten impact site
indicated the failure of an electrified defense system. Starscream
unleashed a missile and gouged a respectably-sized entrance into the
fence.
The human guards broke their careful formations and
scattered, though halfway to the safety of the building they seemed to
recall their training; as one they turned and fired on Starscream with
their little machine guns. He barely felt the bullets. Laughing, he
fired off another few laser bolts, just to watch them run. One that was
especially brave/foolhardy, and stood his ground, Starscream simply
kicked out of his way. He walked toward the building's nearest
entrance and began to tear the doors off their hinges.
Over the shouting humans and the chatter of their primitive
weaponry, a new sound suddenly leapt into Starscream's consciousness
-- the scream of a jet engine! He turned to see a shadowy triangular
shape plummeting towards him, difficult to pick out against the black
sky -- but in the next instant it released lasers, and they were all-too-
clear. Starscream leapt aside as the bolts struck the refinery wall,
where he'd been standing just an instant ago. A whole section of brick
and mortar crumpled inward, and Starscream dove into the opening as
Skywarp made a strafing run past the building, shooting through the
remainder of the fence.
Taking the opportunity, Starscream leapt back out and shot
off in the opposite direction. Skywarp wheeled and followed, but he
was far too slow. Already he was falling back.
Starscream was getting angry now. What was Skywarp
trying to do, win merit points with Megatron? Starscream spun into a
180 degree turn in mid-air and aimed himself straight at his onrushing
opponent. Even with only one laser, he had more fighting skill than
Skywarp, and his greater speed and maneuverability would give him a
definite edge. Skywarp wanted a battle? -- well, Starscream would
give him one!
The two jets screamed toward each other in the night sky,
lasers flashing and wings tilting from side to side as they dodged each
others' bolts. Mere seconds from head-on collision, Skywarp broke off
and plunged downward. Starscream shot past him at such speed that
he had to make a wide turn, then plunged to follow. Skywarp was not
rising to meet him now, merely trying to gain some distance.
Starscream was not going to give it to him. His engines screamed as
he applied an additional burst of power.
Skywarp's cockpit opened and Starscream saw something
flash silver inside, or was it gold -- it was hard to tell, in the dark, and
at this distance. But suddenly renewed traces of laser fire angled
towards him -- not from Skywarp, but from Buzzsaw, who must have
transformed from cassette mode in free-fall. More bolts lanced toward
him from another angle, and Starscream caught sight of Laserbeak,
almost as invisible as Skywarp by night, in his red-and-black colors.
Skywarp too was back on the attack, rising rapidly from close to
ground level.
Starscream decided that his single laser was no match for
three opponents. Skillfully weaving himself free of their criss-crossed
net of laser beams, he tore away from them in a straight line towards
the north. Skywarp could teleport after him, of course, but Starscream
doubted he would do so without Laserbeak and Buzzsaw for backup --
and by the time he'd gathered them up again, Starscream would be
well out of their range.
A mixture of fear and anger mingled in him as he flew. Why
couldn't they just leave him alone? Why was this turning out so
differently from all the other times? Was it possible that Megatron
would not give up the search this time? The thought made him cold
all over. The Decepticon leader tended toward explosive rages, but he
forgot them fairly quickly again, too; this time was different somehow.
Starscream tried not to dwell on the uncertainty, on the sickening
sensation that it gave him.
* * *
He had burned up a lot of fuel in his battle with Skywarp, and
by now he was seriously hungry. Looking for lights in the terrain
below, he picked out a twisting ribbon of highway and followed the
trickling flow of traffic. As expected, the road eventually led him
toward a small town with a gas station. Starscream found the taste of
gasoline barely short of disgusting -- most Decepticons disdained it --
but it would do for now. He transformed and landed heavily on the
smooth concrete, impatiently tearing away a piece of the overhang that
blocked him from easily reaching the gas pumps. Unwilling to waste
any more ammo, he entirely ignored the few humans who ran from
him in terror, abandoning their cars with unlocked doors and open gas
caps.
Starscream grabbed one of the nozzles. He poked and
prodded at the pump until he'd flipped the right switch and heard the
hum of the machinery as the pumps came on. He regarded the nozzle
with a faint grimace of disgust, but the discomfort in his fuel tanks
won out, and he put the nozzle in his mouth.
He had not even pulled the handle to release the flow of
gasoline, when a searingly painful flash of light went off in front of
him. His optics shut down in automatic response to the overload, and
he staggered backward, losing his grip on the handle. Blindly he
thrust out his hands, trying to ward off some imminent attack that he
couldn't see.
"Damn you!" he gasped, bringing one hand to his eyes and
pressing it against the pain in his optics. Dimly the outlines of his
surroundings began to take shape again. Atop the gas pump next to
the one he had grabbed, he saw the camera, very small and
unobtrusive as it sat atop the flat upper surface of the pump -- as
though some customer had forgotten it there. "Reflector!" Starscream
snarled angrily, balling his hands to fists and swinging them down
toward the small object. Immediately the camera split into three
pieces, which grew into robots and scattered in three different
directions as Starscream's fists came crashing down onto the fuel
pump. He spun and grabbed for one of the retreating robots, when an
impact struck him from behind. Something sharp scraped into his
shoulders and wings. A familiar snarling sounded right in his audial
sensor: Ravage! Starscream spun around, trying to scrape the robotic
feline against the overhang of the gas station. Suddenly he cried out
in pain as Ravage's long fangs sunk into the back of his neck.
Frantically he tried to reach back and claw at the panther, but Ravage's
snarls only increased and he hung on tighter. His claws gouged
violently into Starscream's shoulders.
Starscream threw himself backwards at the overhang. It
collapsed, and Starscream fell with it, deliberately landing heavily in
the rubble as he tried to dislodge Ravage. He kicked out, snapping one
of the uncovered gas pumps from its base. He rolled toward the
jagged-edged metal, trying to grind Ravage into the wreckage. The
fangs and claws withdrew from his plating as Ravage dropped away
and twisted out from under the much larger jet. Starscream was about
to turn on him in fury, when a barrage of laser fire converged on him
from three directions. Reflector's three identical components were
firing on him from all sides. The bolts seared his wings and singed
his plating. They had him surrounded -- there was no place to go but
up. Starscream shot vertically into the night sky, just as the damaged
gas pumps caught fire. An explosive column of flame followed him
upwards, and Starscream felt the heat lick at the bottoms of his feet
before he was out of range.
He tried transforming, but the wounds in his neck and
shoulders were too painful. He flew on in robot mode, a bit unsteadily,
towards the garish lights of a large city in the distance.
How was it that the others kept finding him? he wondered.
Were they tracking him somehow? He fought down a surge of panic.
He was not accustomed to being a hunted thing. Usually he was the
predator, and some hapless Autobot was the prey. At the very least, he
was the equal of most enemies in battle. But now he was exhausted,
damaged, and growing weak from lack of fuel. If he could only find a
safe place to rest for a while....
At the outskirts of the city he turned away from the brightly
lit downtown direction and headed for a dark area of storage yards and
warehouses. Landing behind a tall chain-link fence that blocked off a
series of huge warehouses, he began to wind his way among the
buildings, doubling back every so often in hopes of losing any
pursuers. Finally he stopped in a narrow alley between two of the
featureless structures. Standing perfectly still, he listened intently.
Some distance away, the unbroken dull roar of the traffic sounded; a
siren wailed faintly from far away. But close by was--
A rustling in the garbage that littered the alley! Starscream
jumped in alarm, firing off a laser bolt in the direction of the sound.
In the brief illumination, he saw the pair of large brown rats scurrying
away. Weakly he slumped against the side of the building and
dimmed his eyes, trying to still the pounding of his fuel pump. How
he hated Megatron for reducing him to this state!
He tried taking a deep, calming breath, but it didn't help
much. Perhaps it would be best if he hid in one of these warehouses
for a while. Brightening his eyes again, he moved along the wall until
he came to an entrance. With the last of his laser bolts, he melted a
hole into the thick metal door at approximately chest height.
Reaching through, he groped along the inside wall until he found and
disabled the security alarm that he'd been sure was there; he didn't
want to be disturbed, even by insignificant humans who would have
been attracted to the sound. He unlocked the door from the inside, and
crouched down to get through. Within the building he could easily
stand upright. The ceiling was high above, judging from the echoes of
the sound of his footsteps; it was quite dark and he could see very
little. But gradually his optics adjusted, taking in the dim orange of
faint security lights spaced along the walls. He looked around
carefully. If not for his fatigue and the height of the ceiling, he would
have felt claustrophobic in here. Stacks of wooden crates were piled
double his height, forming winding aisleways between them.
Cautiously, with his hands out to brush the sides of the crates,
Starscream started toward the center of the building.
A sickeningly familiar sound froze him in his tracks: the
unmistakable electronic whine of Skywarp materializing from
teleportation, very close behind him. Starscream stood motionless and
dimmed his eyes, waiting for the laser fire to cut into his back. But it
didn't come. Very slowly, Starscream turned around.
Only the double, glowing-red coals of Skywarp's eyes were
clearly visible in the dark. The rest of him was an indistinct black
shape. He laughed softly, malevolently. "It's over, Screamer," he said.
A movement flickered somewhere below his eyes, and Buzzsaw and
Laserbeak soared out of his cockpit, rising to hover just above each of
Skywarp's shoulders. Their yellow eyes brightened, and a series of
energy beams lanced out. Simultaneously Skywarp snapped up his
lasers and fired.
Starscream sprang back and dodged around a close-by corner.
"Afraid to face me alone, aren't you!" he shouted at Skywarp, even as
he took off at a run down the narrow aisleway. Tearing around
corners and winding through a maze-like series of turns, he dislodged
crates and boxes into the path behind him as he ran. Too little space
in here for a jet to fly -- but Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had no such
problems. Their energy beams rained down on him from above, some
of them leaving stinging scorch-marks on his outer plating.
Desperately he tried to recall the way back to the exit. Was it that
turn, up ahead? -- yes, he was almost certain of it. Grabbing at a
corner box and flinging it behind him, he skidded around the turn --
only to slam to a complete stop at the sight that met him. Lined up
before the partially molten door stood Thundercracker, Soundwave,
Bombshell, Rumble, and Frenzy -- all with their weapons trained on
him.
Starscream felt his eyes go bright with panic. "No!" he
gasped, and then louder, trying to make it sound like an order and
keep his voice from shaking, "No! I command you to lower your
weapons! I'm your superior offic--" His words were cut short by a hail
of laser fire. His rank didn't mean a thing to them now; they were
acting under a higher authority. Starscream ran blindly back into the
depths of the warehouse, through a curtain of energy beams from
Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, and past them, tearing through the dark and
slamming into crates and boxes in his uncontrolled terror.
He tripped on a pile of boxes and went sprawling into a
jumble of partially broken crates. Frantically he tried to scramble to
his feet, but was met with an impassable wall of boxes in front of him.
He whirled around, but it was too late to get out the way he had come.
The other Decepticons had caught up with him and were blocking the
only escape route -- not even hurrying, just coming toward him at an
almost relaxed pace, their weapons drawn but not really aimed at him,
merely pointing in his general direction. They stopped a short
distance from him, regarding him in silence. Ravage and Reflector
had joined them, and now there were twelve robots altogether. Their
glowing red and yellow eyes seemed to form an unrelenting,
impassable barrier. But a larger shape moved behind them, and they
parted willingly to let it through.
Megatron's eyes burned into the darkness like living flames.
Even from a few paces away, Starscream imagined he could feel the
fiery glare strike him like a wall of heat. He edged backwards until he
was pressing himself against the irregular surface behind him.
Megatron's pale silver plating glistened in the dim light. In
one violent, furious motion he reached out with both arms and shoved
the surrounding stacks of crates away from himself, clearing an area of
open space. Then his hands curled into fists and he moved slowly,
deliberately, toward Starscream.
Starscream's breath came in short, painful gasps. He stood as
if paralyzed for an interminable moment, then began to tremble all
over. He thought he'd been afraid before; he was petrified now.
He'd never seen Megatron so angry, so on the verge of losing all
semblance of self-control. He'd never felt such palpable wrath and
menace from any being, as that which radiated from Megatron now.
"Don't," Starscream pleaded, almost soundlessly. "Don't...."
Megatron's first blow flashed out and struck him full-force in
the torso, shattering his cockpit.
2. Megatron
Through a dim red haze of fury and grief, Megatron lashed
out, slamming his fists into Starscream's body. He had lost awareness
of all else, and knew only how the jet's metal plating dented and tore
under the incessant pounding. On some level of awareness he relished
Starscream's cries of agony, gorged himself like a beast at the kill on
the feeling of physically tearing him apart.
The image replayed itself relentlessly in his mind's eye:
Starscream shooting Nightbird in the back and laughing as she
collapsed lifelessly among the Autobots ... he let it nurture his hatred,
let it drive him to ever-more-frenzied heights of violence. He raked
his hand like a claw across Starscream's face, catching the edge of an
optic lens and tearing it off, then gouging his fingers into the exposed
circuitry underneath. Lubricant seeped over his hand. He used the
socket as a convenient grip for slamming Starscream's head repeatedly
into the wall of wooden crates. How he hated this creature, who had
for so long tried to undermine his authority -- who had tried to turn the
other Decepticons against him -- who countered and contradicted him
at every turn -- but all that, he had been willing to let go, for reasons
he himself did not care to specify. But this time Starscream had
crossed an invisible barrier, beyond which there was no forgiveness.
He had destroyed the only female Megatron had ever-------------
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..................................Megatron tore the remaining glass out of
Starscream's cockpit and dug his fingers into the hinge, ripping it
loose. He shoved the jagged edges of the metal back into the jet's
chest, and black fuel seeped out between the wounds. Starscream
made a sound that was half cry and half strangled gasp; he tried to
raise his arms and ward off Megatron's blows, but Megatron batted his
defenses aside.
"No more, Megatron," Starscream gasped. "Please,
Leader...!"
Megatron slammed a fist across his face...........................
|
|
.........................."So, Leader," Starscream said, sauntering casually
into the control center. As always he emphasized the word "Leader"
with his own unique brand of sarcasm. He regarded Megatron smugly
and continued, "I understand the Autobots have installed a new
security system -- and you can't figure out a way past it."
"Not yet, Starscream," Megatron growled. "But it's only a
matter of time."
"Sure, sure," Starscream replied, folding his arms and leaning
back against one of the columns. "The question is, how much time?
A week? A year? A lifetime??" He laughed, and his eyes danced with
malicious pleasure. "Maybe you should let me try. I mean, you've
had your turn, and not much to show for it." Starscream's tone made
clear that he was referring to more than just the breach of current
Autobot defenses.
Megatron drummed his fingers impatiently on the computer
console. "Starscream," he said without looking at him, "if I thought
for one moment that you could figure out how to neutralize this new
security system, I would assign you the task. But the last time I let you
loose on our computers, you nearly burned out the whole network."
"Oh really?" Starscream demanded. "That's because I was
working with defective circuitry to begin with. And who was it that
blew the entire antimatter generator to hell because you hadn't
bothered to check on its electrical input requirements?"
"That's because I was working with defective mechanisms,"
Megatron replied evenly. "Like you. Now get lost, I'm busy."
"Yeah -- I can see that," Starscream said with a pointed
look at Nightbird, who was sitting quietly at the computer next to
Megatron.
Megatron glanced at him sharply.
"Helps you a lot, does she?" Starscream taunted.
Megatron sensed rather than saw the movement at his side; at
most he detected only a dark blur. But a pair of sharp-edged throwing
stars were suddenly embedded in the column to either side of
Starscream's head.
Starscream's eyes went blank with surprise. Slowly he
stepped away from the column and looked back at the razor-edged
blades. Megatron took the opportunity, while he was off-balance.
"She helps me a lot more than you do," he said. "Maybe she should
have your job."
Starscream's optics narrowed and he stalked out of the room.
Megatron grinned appreciatively at Nightbird, who regarded
him with utter composure. She sat at the computer as though she
hadn't even moved. But something in her eyes seemed to
smile........................
|
|
........................He wrenched the air-intake planks from Starscream's
shoulders and tore the outer plating in great flat sheets from his wings,
holding him down with one foot as he gouged at the metal. Then he
clawed at the infrastructure, grinding and mangling it together into a
twisted mesh of struts and wires. The jet's audio-splitting screams
shattered the silence of the night.......................
|
|
.......................A fairly common and perfectly legitimate way of rising
in rank among the Decepticons was to assassinate one's superiors, and
so Megatron never entirely let his guard down, even in his private
quarters in the dead of the night. When the slight metallic sound
broke the silence, he was up from his recharge bed, fully awake, and
ready to fire his laser cannon. Faint starlight from the window showed
a dark silhouette, and Megatron aimed -- but there was something
familiar about the shape that gave him an instant's pause; long enough
for the dark figure to touch the control pad by the door and key up the
lights.
"Nightbird!" Megatron exclaimed, lowering his cannon.
After his initial surprise, a flicker of anger stirred in him. "How did
you get in here?" he demanded. "That door is keyed to my personal
security code!"
Nightbird slid open a panel in the side of her right thigh and
extracted something that she held out to him. At first glance it looked
like a very short dagger, small enough to be concealed in one's hand.
But Nightbird touched one of the edges, and a series of picks and wires
of varying size slid out from the base of the blade. She touched the flat
upper surface of the handle, and Megatron saw the faint blue crackle
of a magneto-electric field that danced across the tips of the
instruments.
Intrigued, he took the object from her for a closer look. "All-
purpose lock pick, hm?" he mused. "You are talented." He handed
it back to her. "Just don't sneak up on me again. I'm likely to blow
you away -- and we couldn't have that, could we?" He smiled at her
conspiratorially.
Nightbird's eyes gleamed a soft amber. She had been his
constant companion for the past few days, at least in the daytime. At
first he'd found it a little aggravating that he nearly tripped over her
any time he turned away from his work. Once or twice he'd stopped
himself just short of yelling at her. It would have been a mistake. She
always looked at him with such trust and earnest attention that he
would have hated himself if he'd hurt her. And in truth, he found her
interest in his work a bit flattering, and quickly came to appreciate her
constant, quiet presence. It was almost as though she had imprinted
herself onto him -- as though there was something in Megatron's
presence that she needed and sought to emulate. In all honesty,
Megatron found that thought a bit flattering as well.
Now she looked observantly around his room, moving toward
the window and back again, skirting the perimeter of the recharge bed,
as though trying to get a feel for the place. It was not as spacious or
well-furnished as his quarters at the undersea base, his main
headquarters -- but there were a few comfortable chairs in addition to
the recharge bed, and a small store of energon cubes, and a desktop
computer outlet through which he could access the main system.
Above the computer hung the only wall decoration, an old, heavy
Cybertronian scimitar with a broad, polished blade, from his days as a
gladiator. Nightbird seemed to regard it all with intense interest,
particularly the scimitar. She touched it lightly, then turned to look at
him questioningly.
Maybe some day he would tell her about it. At the moment....
"What is it that you want, Nightbird?" he asked. "What do you need,
at this hour?"
Watching her move gracefully and soundlessly around the
room, he'd begun to be increasingly aware of what he wanted -- but
of course that was ridiculous. She was an Earth-robot, an alien, built
by mere humans. She probably didn't even have a pleasure interface.
But she was beautiful, he had to admit, standing silhouetted in
glossy black and gray against the light wall, with the scimitar
glistening in the background....
She moved toward him, holding his gaze. She reached up
and touched the Decepticon symbol on his chest, tracing it lightly.
Then she brought her hand to her own chest, looking up at him
expectantly. For a moment Megatron didn't understand. Then he
smiled. "Of course! We'll see that you get one. The equipment for
branding and paint is back at our undersea base, but we won't be here
that much longer. Then you'll have your Decepticon symbol.
Satisfied?"
Her eyes smiled. She nodded.
"Good." Megatron put an arm lightly around her shoulders
and steered her to the door. "Now you can go back to your room
and...."
He trailed off when she hung back from the door. She was
looking at him again, with that same intensity that she watched him
with at work, only -- more intense.
"What now?" he asked, beginning to feel a little
uncomfortable under her unflickering scrutiny.
She reached up and touched his Decepticon symbol again,
only this time she placed her hand flat against his chest and slid it
upward over his shoulder, then up along the side of his neck to caress
the edge of his helmet. The sensation was like a warm current of
electricity. Great Cybertron, but she was beautiful! Seemingly
without intending to, Megatron wrapped his arms around her waist
and pulled her close. She reached up with her other hand and slid her
arms smoothly around his neck, pressing herself against him.
He disentangled himself from her just long enough to snap off
the light switch - then led her toward the bed.....................
|
|
..........................He slammed Starscream up against the wall of crates,
so hard that the wood cracked and styrofoam packing materials burst
from the fissures. He wrapped his fingers around Starscream's throat
and shook him savagely. Droplets of leaking fuel and lubricant
sprayed in all directions. Megatron slammed him back against the
broken crates again, into the splintered boards, and held him there.
Slowly, inexorably, he began to tighten his grip on the jet's throat.
Starscream clawed weakly at the vise-like hold. Lubricant
streamed from his empty eye socket and his one remaining cracked
optic sensor, which brightened sporadically, then dimmed. His mouth
gaped open as he struggled for air.
"You're ... killing me," he managed to rasp. "Don't ... kill ...
me ... don't--!"
"Why shouldn't I kill you?" Megatron snarled through
clenched teeth, relishing the feeling of his fingers gouging into the
pliable metal of Starscream's throat. "You killed her, after all."
The one optic sensor brightened a little. "I didn't!" he choked
out. "I ..." The faint red light dimmed. "... null ray," he whispered.
"Stun setting...."
Almost involuntarily Megatron's grip loosened a little.
Starscream's head came up and he gasped for air. "What did you say?"
Megatron demanded, shaking him.
"-- hit -- her -- with -- a -- null -- ray," Starscream managed
sporadically between shakes.
Megatron stopped, and stared at him intently. "You're lying,"
he insisted.
"No. I used a stun beam, I swear it. She was already
surrounded by Autobots--"...................
|
"Say whatever you like," Starscream said, leaning insolently
against the computer console, "but you'll never find a way to deactivate
those new Autobot defenses. You'll never get that world energy
supply chip."
"Think so, do you?" Megatron responded smoothly. "Well,
how's this -- when I have it, I'll see to it that you gain no benefit
from the knowledge it holds." He offered Starscream a calmly
superior smile.
Starscream seemed disappointed that he'd been unable to
incite his leader to anger. For a moment he looked like he was going
to say more, but casting a wary glance at Nightbird, he apparently
thought the better of it. He left them alone in the control center.
When he was gone, Megatron turned to glare accusingly at
the computer screen. "I'll never get that chip, he thinks," he muttered
to himself. "Just wait and see."
"I'll get it for you," a soft, resonant voice said beside him.
Megatron whirled and stared at her in amazement. "What?"
he said.
"I said I would get it for you," Nightbird repeated. "This
world-energy-chip-thing that you've been carrying on about."
He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You can
talk!" he exclaimed.
She smiled. "Yes. It just took a few days for me to gather
enough samples of your language, to be able to use it."
Megatron was delighted. Now they could really
communicate. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting it slightly
upward, and kissed the dark mask that lined her mouth. It was only
then that the meaning of her words reached him. "What do you mean,
you'll get the chip?" he asked with a slight scowl. "Do you expect to
just stroll into Autobot headquarters and walk out with it?"
She pulled back from him a little and took hold of one end of
her nunchucks, spinning the other end in a swift, confident arc.
"That's exactly what I expect," she said. "I'm a ninja, remember?"
Megatron only stared at her. Warring impulses rose in him: he didn't
want to let her out of his sight, didn't want to subject her to the danger.
On the other hand, he did want to see the full extent of her powers in
action -- and if anyone had a chance of success, it was Nightbird.
Slowly a grin spread across his face. "You and I are going to make a
wonderful team," he stated.
|
|
......................"-- I knew if I stunned her and she fell, the Autobots
would re-capture her," Starscream continued hurriedly. "No need to
waste full power on a lethal setting--"
"You're just trying to save your own worthless hide,"
Megatron cut him off, and tightened his grip on the jet.
"N-no really, I swear to you!" Starscream stammered in
panic. "Ask -- ask Soundwave!"
Megatron glared at him motionlessly for a long moment --
then suddenly flung him away to the side and head-first into a stack of
crates, in the general direction of the other warriors.
"Soundwave!" Megatron snapped, and the big blue
Decepticon stepped forward. "Tell me if he's lying."
He detected the very slight brightening of Soundwave's eyes
as he probed Starscream with a mental scan. Then he looked up to
meet Megatron's gaze. "Starscream speaks the truth," he said.
Megatron took a step toward him, hardly daring to hope.
"You're certain?" he insisted. "She's alive?"
"Starscream did not kill her," Soundwave replied.
Megatron's thoughts whirled. So the Autobots had taken her
captive. She was out there somewhere, a prisoner, but alive -- alive!
One last burst of anger surged through him, and he kicked
out viciously at Starscream. He struck at the jet's head and chest,
flinging him backwards into more broken boxes. He lay in a crumpled
heap, moaning and whimpering in pain. The others stepped aside as
Megatron moved past them, and into the maze of crates and aisleways
that led out of the warehouse.
3. Soundwave
One by one the others turned to follow their leader. Skywarp
first, then Ravage, Bombshell --
"Don't leave me!" Starscream cried out, struggling to lift his
head. "You can't--!" A fit of coughing cut off his words. He spit up
the black fuel that had seeped into his oxygen filters from punctured
internal fuel tanks, and fought for breath.
Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took to the air, unhurriedly following
the others. Neither of them looked in Starscream's direction.
"No!" he called plaintively. "You can't leave me -- I'm far too
valuable as a warrior to be left ... to die...."
Rumble and Frenzy shrugged and turned away.
"Please, I don't want to die!" he wailed. "Not here, not like
this!" Desperately he tried to claw his way forward along the ground.
Fuel pooled on the floor all around him, visibly seeping from his
wounds. "Someone help me...."
As one, Reflector's three components started for the exit.
"Thundercracker, Soundwave," he sobbed, appealing to the
only two Decepticons who might be persuaded to some sympathy.
"Please, I want to live...." His words dissolved into a weak spasm of
coughing that shook his whole body.
Soundwave and Thundercracker had already turned away.
Thunder glanced uncertainly at Soundwave, slowing his steps.
Soundwave could read the question in his eyes: how angry would
Megatron be if they brought Starscream back to base?
Soundwave looked back at the battered Decepticon, barely
recognizable as a jet anymore. In spite of himself -- despite his long-
standing friendship with Megatron and his loathing for what
Starscream had done, Soundwave couldn't help but feel a little sorry
for him. He was in excruciating pain, and he would leak to death very
soon unless something was done.
Soundwave exchanged a look with Thundercracker.
"Megatron did let him live," Soundwave pointed out.
That was all the incentive Thunder needed. He had his
differences with Starscream as well, but in his core he hated to see a
fellow Decepticon in such anguish. He went to Starscream and
carefully started to lift him off the floor. Soundwave hung back for
another moment of indecision, then stepped forward to help.
* * *
The undersea headquarters boasted a far more extensive
repair bay than the land base, and it was here that Soundwave started
reassembling all the shattered bits and pieces of Starscream's
mechanisms. The damage was even more extensive than it had
appeared from the outside. Manufacture of necessary spare parts, and
especially of new outer body panels, would stretch itself over the next
several days. For the moment, Soundwave had first of all stopped the
leaking, and was slowly reconnecting the most critical internal wiring.
It was going to be a long night.
Starscream lay unconscious on the operating table as
Soundwave worked with methodical care. He had the ability to focus
on his work to the point where he became totally absorbed in the
details -- in all the delicate little procedures, the steady succession
from one step to the next, the successful completion of each goal. He
could almost forget who it was that he was working on, and why he
was in this condition to begin with. Almost. With a skill born of long
practice, his hands activated the various repair tools practically on
their own, leaving his mind free to wander..................
|
|
...................By the time evening fell, Nightbird had been at the land
base for several hours. Neither a prisoner nor a member of the team
with responsibilities, she could have taken the time to explore, to take
in the lay-out of the place -- even to choose one of the unoccupied
private rooms that suited her. Instead she had sat with Megatron and
Soundwave at the computer all afternoon. Megatron all but ignored
her once he really focused in on his work, and even Soundwave found
it easy to forget her presence from time to time. She was so
unobtrusive, so totally silent. Yet there was nothing timid or uncertain
about her; she stayed in Megatron's presence not because she felt safe
there, but because there was something about his proximity that she
seemed to find fascinating. Glancing at her from time to time,
Soundwave could see an aura of calm self-assurance about her - a
sense of security in her own existence, a core of inner tranquillity.
From that inner center of balance she looked outward with an
insatiable curiosity, as though trying to take in as much information as
possible to make up for her extreme youth. She had, after all, only just
been created. But she had none of the childlike aspects that a
Transformer private creation would have at that age - no, she seemed
more like a factory product, an "instant adult," who had been given a
far more sophisticated personality by the creation factory machinery,
than the machinery which would normally be available to a private
individual on Cybertron. Soundwave still could not imagine how her
human creator had accomplished such a feat, without access to
creation factory machinery. However it had been done, in terms of
personality, she was an adult female. But knowledge was what she
lacked, and her observant intelligence was trying hard to compensate.
Megatron did not seem to notice her again until, for the fifth
time, his attempt to infiltrate Teletran One's auxiliary defense
programs was blocked by a sophisticated protection system. In rising
frustration he brought his fist down on the computer console and
glared accusingly at the screen. "Piece of computerized trash!" he
snarled.
"It is late," Soundwave suggested.
"What?" He turned to look at Soundwave as though only now
remembering his presence. "Oh - yes, right, you can go." He waved
Soundwave away, somewhat distracted. "And--" he glanced at
Nightbird, "show Nightbird to a room. See that she has everything she
needs."
"I meant, perhaps you should give it a rest for the night,"
Soundwave specified.
"Look, Soundwave," Megatron snapped, "I'm not going to
become ruler of Cybertron by resting!"
"You will not accomplish that goal by driving yourself to
exhaustion either," Soundwave pointed out.
Megatron's eyes flashed a warning - he didn't want to hear it.
Soundwave sighed. They had had this conversation far too
many times, and it always ended the same way. He motioned to
Nightbird to follow him, as Megatron turned back toward the
computer for another electronic assault.
He could barely hear her footsteps as she followed him
through the dark, narrow corridors of the base. Other Transformers,
with less sensitive hearing, would not have heard her at all. He
decided on one of the larger spare rooms and stopped at its door.
Touching the outer control panel at its side, he plugged into the
circuitry through a linkage key that slid out from the tip of his finger.
With a swift series of electronic impulses, he prepared the locking
mechanism to receive a new entrance code.
"Put your hand up against this metal panel," he directed
Nightbird. She did so, and the circuitry scanned her bioelectric
emissions, sealing the pattern into its memory. "Now all you have to
do is will it to open," he explained.
She tilted her head and stared at the door in motionless
concentration. After a moment, the door slid back into the wall.
"It gets easier with practice," Soundwave assured her. He led
her into the darkened room and dialed up the lights. Patiently he
showed her how to raise and lower the illumination; how to activate
the recharge bed and how to adjust the temperature of the invisible
energy-beams that would wash over her while she was dormant; how
to turn the transparent window-polymer opaque if she should wish to
block out the bright light of the moon that was visible as a waning
quarter outside the base. There was no energon dispenser in the room,
so he stepped out briefly and returned with a tray of small cubes,
which were more satisfying than the otherwise adequate recharge rays.
She picked one up, tentatively at first, and tried it. Apparently she
liked the taste, for she immediately emptied two more. Soundwave
realized that she hadn't re-fueled since she'd been brought here early
that morning, and who knew how much fuel she'd been given prior to
that by her human creators.
Soundwave was reminded that Megatron had not re-fueled
either, since that morning - since before the attack on the conference
center, the battle with the Autobots, the flight home, and all the long
hours at the computer. Soundwave was forever asking him to take
better care of himself, but the Decepticon leader resented the
implication; he had "more important things to think about," and "no
time for such trivialities."
Well, perhaps having Nightbird here would have some
positive effect, Soundwave thought as he regarded her. He had not
missed the spark of interest in Megatron's eyes when she'd had her
little spat with Starscream that morning - how he'd followed her
effortless and amazingly swift movements when she went on the attack
... and she was beautiful, in an intriguingly alien fashion.
Soundwave reached out mentally and lightly touched her
mind, trying to get a reading on her feelings about being here.
Normally he would not invade the privacy of another's thoughts,
unless he was so ordered by Megatron, or he felt it was a matter of
security. But since Nightbird was apparently to be a new member of
the Decepticon army, he felt it wise to learn a little more about her. It
was no great surprise to find that his initial assessment of her
personality had been correct; even without applying telepathy,
Soundwave tended to be an accurate judge of character. As to how she
felt about the Decepticons, about being snatched up and brought
here....
She was first of all enthralled with Megatron - no great
surprise there either. The image of him fighting Optimus Prime in the
conference center was fixed firmly into her mind. With it, for the first
time in her short life, had come the realization that robotic life-forms
could aspire to more than just following the commands of humans who
were putting them through their paces. Her feeling about her human
creator was utterly neutral; Soundwave caught glimpses of memory, of
the human running endless preliminary performance tests with
Nightbird in his lab - utilize this weapon, demonstrate that martial art
- and Nightbird had complied unresistingly, for she had never known
anything else. But the sight of the attacking Decepticons - robots who
were obviously not subordinate to or in league with the humans - had
awakened something in her: the awareness that she was an individual,
someone who had the right to make her own choices and express her
own desires, separate from the expectations of mere humans. And
what she desired was Megatron, who had taught her this, simply by
being who he was.
Her feeling about the other Decepticons was one of curiosity.
She wanted very much to know where they came from and what their
purpose in life was - and she was confident that she would find out, in
time. She was not intimidated by the somewhat rough-and-tumble
Decepticon fighting force, as other aliens might have been, for she was
secure in her own fighting powers. She knew, on a basic level, that
she was more than a match for any one of them except possibly
Megatron, if it came to one-on-one combat.
Even Starscream, who had made a bad impression on her
right from the beginning, was no threat to her. She rather disdained
him - in fact, thought too little of him to bear him any real animosity -
but did not feel the need to prove her superior fighting skill. If
attacked, she would defend herself, and do it well; if left alone, she
would do likewise.
Satisfied, Soundwave pulled his thoughts back from her. It
was going to be interesting, to watch her develop into a full-fledged
member of the Decepticon army - and perhaps more than that.
"Let me know if you need anything," he told her, and turned
to go. He paused at the door and looked back at her. "Welcome to the
Decepticons," he added.
|
|
........................Starscream stirred, turning his head to one side and
moaning softly. Soundwave had sealed off the lubrication ducts and
removed the smashed circuitry from his one optic socket, but he still
had only one functioning optic sensor, and the lens had not yet been
replaced. It brightened unsteadily as Starscream struggled toward an
awareness of his surroundings.
After a few moments he seemed to recognize the repair bay
and realize where he was. Then he gasped in pain and dimmed his
eye to black. Soundwave continued his work. Slowly, tentatively,
Starscream's eye brightened again. "S-Soundwave?" he asked in an
incredulous whisper. "You're repairing me? You?"
Soundwave barely glanced at him, and reached for another
tool. "The Constructicons refuse to touch you," he said
inflectionlessly. "They know what happened."
True, Megatron could be difficult to live with; he was highly
demanding, with an unpredictable temper, and always quick to fling
insults and curses when things didn't go his way. Yet he had his own
brand of honor and fairness, always giving credit where it was due --
and though he demanded a great deal of his troops, he demanded even
more of himself, and never asked a warrior to risk any danger that he
himself would avoid. He was a dynamic and charismatic commander,
almost always leading his troops into battle rather than sitting back
in the safety of the base and sending them, like other leaders that
Soundwave had known. And at odd moments, when he dropped the
role of the authoritarian commander, Megatron could be personable,
understanding, even compassionate, and intensely loyal to those rare
individuals whom he trusted enough to consider friends. Contrary to
Autobot propaganda, most of Megatron's immediate underlings were
actually quite fond of him..................
|
|
...................Soundwave looked around the empty control room in mild
surprise. He had fully expected to find Megatron at the computer, and
of course Nightbird with him. But the room was deserted, the
interactive consoles and viewscreens shut down. With a shrug,
Soundwave returned to the corridors to look elsewhere.
He passed Skywarp, who was on his way to the holo-
simulator. "Have you seen Megatron?" Soundwave asked him.
"Yeah - he went for a walk," the black jet replied.
"A walk?"
"With Nightbird. Though if you ask me, they had more in
mind than lookin' at the scenery," he added with a suggestive grin.
"Show some respect, Skywarp," Soundwave admonished.
"Hey, don't get me wrong - I think she's good for him,"
Skywarp answered, and continued on his way.
He had a point, Soundwave mused. In the past few days,
Megatron had in fact seemed more relaxed, less driven, less likely to
snap at his warriors over minor infractions.
One Decepticon who undoubtedly did not appreciate this
subtle change in attitude was Starscream. The red-and-silver jet had
always made it his specialty to try and goad Megatron to anger with
subtly insulting remarks and sarcastic insinuations - and those tactics
had far less effect these days. Megatron had even turned the tables on
him, off-handedly threatening to replace him as Subcommander.
Soundwave knew that Megatron had no intention of carrying out that
threat -- that he was merely amusing himself, watching Starscream's
reaction - but Starscream, quite obviously, was not amused............
|
|
.............."Wh-what are you doing?" Starscream asked shakily.
"Reconnecting the involuntary neurocircuitry to your oxygen
infilters," Soundwave replied, without pausing in his work.
"Hurts like hell."
"I can imagine."
Starscream dimmed his eye and clamped his teeth together,
whimpering quietly to himself. Whenever Soundwave touched the
inside of his chest cavity with the micro-welder, he gave a sharp gasp,
which eventually became suppressed cries of pain.
Soundwave relented and infused some destimulant into
Starscream's fuel lines. The minimal dose would deaden some, but not
all, of the pain. However its mildly tranquilizing effect was enough to
edge Starscream back into unconsciousness, and Soundwave could
finish his work undisturbed.
He had the most vital systems working on their own again --
fuel pump, oxygen intakes, autonomic cerebral neuro-nets. However,
immunofiltration functions were down, as well as fuel
processing/energy extraction systems, and much of the voluntary
neurocircuitry that allowed conscious movement. Flight engines and
transformational circuitry remained all but nonexistent. All of it
required extensive replacement parts. And at least until the
immunofiltration and fuel uptake systems could be repaired,
Starscream would have to remain hooked to the life-support machines
that would perform these functions for him. Soundwave had already
assigned Reflector to begin manufacture of parts, but it would still be
tomorrow afternoon before the first of them were ready.
Soundwave carefully moved Starscream to one of the repair
bay's intensive care units, and hooked up wires and tubing from the
ominous tangle of life-support machinery that loomed over the bed.
Activating the machinery, he watched for a while as the proper lights
came on and the system took up its soft electronic hum. As a
precaution, he pulled down the restraint bars and secured them over
Starscream's chest. The jet had practically no movement in his lower
body, but could move his arms to some degree; if he were to thrash
about in his sleep, he could detach himself from the life-support wires.
The restraints snapped down securely over his arms and kept him still.
Soundwave turned away and shut off the lights. The corridor
outside repair bay was dark and deserted. Soundwave could hear the
soft hissing of forced air as it circulated through the undersea base.
His footsteps echoed loudly from the bare metal walls as he walked to
the nearest turbo-lift and rode downward.
The sea-floor level of the base seemed empty as well, the
hallways dark except for faint battery-powered guide-lights set into the
ceiling. The other Decepticons had vanished, no doubt withdrawn into
their private quarters. None of them particularly wanted to face
Megatron. Except for Soundwave. He turned into one of the larger
corridors leading to the left, and followed the guide-lamps.
The sliding door to the control center stood open up ahead,
and a rectangle of yellow light spilled out into the dark hallway.
Soundwave could hear the almost sub-audial hum of the massive
computer system, the intermittent tapping of touch-pads. From the
sound of it, Megatron had the entire system powered up to its fullest.
Soundwave thought fleetingly of the power it was sucking from their
already depleted reserves, though he was sure that such concerns did
not interest the Decepticon leader now.
He entered the huge control chamber, twice as large as the
computer center of their land base. Three walls were taken up from
floor to ceiling by banks of computer consoles, screens, interfaces, and
read-out displays. Megatron sat before the largest of the viewscreens,
rapidly running through a series of images and patterns on this and
several smaller screens inset around it. He might as well have been
part of the computer system himself, the way he crouched over his
interactive console as though physically connected to it. He did not
even acknowledge Soundwave's presence when he walked up next to
his leader. Megatron's optics flickered rapidly from one screen to the
other, his hands playing the dials and touchpads in an almost
automated fashion.
Soundwave sat down in the chair next to him. "Any luck?"
he asked quietly.
Megatron shook his head. His eyes never left the screens.
Soundwave knew he had not re-fueled in almost 24 hours, but any
suggestion to stop and take a break would have been worse than
useless.
"I will find her," Megatron growled through clenched
teeth, as though picking up on Soundwave's thoughts. "If I have to
physically tear the whole planet apart to do it. If only I hadn't sent her
after that damn energy-supply chip...."
Soundwave winced slightly at the savage self-recrimination in
Megatron's tone. "It's not your fault," he tried to convince him. "The
blame lies entirely with Starscream and the Autobots...."
Megatron did not even register his words. His fingers flew
across the touchpads, calling up new signals. Soundwave turned his
attention to some of the read-outs. Megatron was re-tracing and
scanning all radio, short-wave, and other communications-
transmissions from the last twelve hours, from throughout the world,
in hopes of finding where Nightbird had been hidden. Almost too
quickly to read and process, the multiple screens spit out data on
recent human border skirmishes, governmental coups, stock market
ups and downs, natural disasters, terrorist bombings, elections,
medical statistics -- but nothing on a lone ninja robot who was locked
away somewhere ... and that was if she was lucky. If she was not
lucky, the humans and Autobots had already dismantled her. A
distinct possibility, Soundwave knew, and one that had undoubtedly
crossed Megatron's mind as well................
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...............The land base's small repair bay was adequate for such
minor tasks as soldering a weakened wing-joint, which
Thundercracker had received on an energy raid earlier that day.
Soundwave finished up, and the ice-blue jet hopped down off the table.
He moved the wing experimentally. "Feels fine," he said. "Thanks,
Soundwave!"
He joined Skywarp, who had lingered around the doorway
waiting for him, and the two jets left. Soundwave began to put away
his tools, but almost immediately he heard other footsteps
approaching. Curiously he looked up -- no one else had been damaged
on the raid--
Megatron strode into the small repair bay and slid the door
shut behind him. "Soundwave," he began, "I think, maybe, you should
run a diagnostic on me."
"A diagnostic?" Soundwave questioned. This was highly
unusual. Normally Megatron could not be dragged into a repair bay
unless he was severely damaged; it took a minor miracle -- or a very
determined Soundwave -- to maneuver him in for routine maintenance
checks. The Decepticon leader tended to resent any insinuation that
he was not completely and totally invulnerable. And now he was
asking for a diagnostic check? "Is there a problem?" Soundwave
asked.
"Yes, I think so." Megatron's gaze traveled from Soundwave
up along the walls of the room, over the examination table, and across
the rows of tools and instruments in their cases. It was clear that he
was not entirely comfortable with the subject.
Soundwave waited patiently until Megatron's gaze came back
to him. "What sort of problem?" he prodded gently when the silver
Decepticon remained silent.
"Well ... I think I have a feedback loop in my memory
circuits. It keeps replaying the same subject matter. I can't seem to
disengage it."
"What subject matter?" Soundwave asked, when Megatron
again fell silent.
"What difference does it make!" he snapped defensively.
"Just get rid of it!"
"It makes a difference," Soundwave assured him, beginning
to form a realization. "What subject matter?"
Megatron glared at him. "Well ... Nightbird," he answered
grudgingly. "But I don't see what difference that makes! It's just a
mnemonic circuitry problem. And I'm having a hard time
concentrating. My attention wanders. It's - disconcerting."
Soundwave nodded. "Understandable. But there is nothing I
can do about it."
"What?!" Megatron demanded. "How would you know? You
haven't even run the diagnostic yet! What kind of a repairs specialist
are you, anyway?"
"It is only my secondary function," Soundwave reminded
him.
"Yes - but that still puts you light-years ahead of any other
repaireon I've ever met," Megatron said. It sounded more like an
accusation than a compliment.
"Perhaps," Soundwave conceded. "But there is still nothing I
can do." Megatron's eyes flashed brighter with growing anger.
Soundwave regarded him steadily. "Megatron, I must admit, I'm a bit
surprised. With all the females you've known on Cybertron - haven't
you ever been in love before?"
Megatron's eyes went blank with amazement - then narrowed.
"Don't get insulting," he growled.
Soundwave suppressed a smile. "It's not a crime, you know."
"It's crazy," Megatron countered. He spun away from
Soundwave, and then back to face him. "Alright -- what do I do
about it?"
"Why would you want to do anything about it?"
"Because the situation is intolerable. I can't think of anything
but her. I can't keep my mind on my work. All I want to do is go off
somewhere and be alone with her - to my quarters, or out among the
mountains, or down to the holo-simulator ... you should see her in
action in the holo-simulator! She's a walking armory - she has
weapons I haven't even seen yet! And she's got hand-to-hand combat
skills like you wouldn't believe. I could watch her forever--" He broke
off abruptly and shot Soundwave a significant look. "See what I
mean?"
Soundwave leaned back against the examination table and
folded his arms. "Okay, so it's distracting," he agreed. "It will be, at
first. Especially since you are not accustomed to the sensation. But
surely it's not all bad? Surely you are deriving some happiness from
the relationship...?"
Megatron opened his mouth to reflexively snap a protest, then
shut it again. "I ... guess so," he agreed cautiously.
"And surely, having her in your life makes things just a little
bit more worthwhile - gives you just a little bit more incentive to
return to Cybertron someday and rule?"
"Okay ... that's a valid point," Megatron agreed, still guarded.
"And? Could you imagine going back to an existence without
her?"
"No," Megatron stated without hesitation. "I would not want
to exist without her."
"Then what's so terrible about having found the perfect
female and being in love?" Soundwave asked. It was little more than
a rhetorical question.
Megatron met his eyes, and the last of his protests and
barriers dropped away. Slowly a smile spread over his face. "Alright,
alright," he said. "You devious old rustbucket. I guess you're going to
tell me to just get on with my life and enjoy it, right?"
Soundwave smiled in return. "Exactly."
Megatron began to turn away, then paused. His eyes
registered the barest shade of warning. "But not a word of this to
anyone," he commanded.
"Of course," Soundwave replied.
As though it wasn't obvious to anyone who was halfway
conscious................
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..............................The planet-wide communications signals were
proving unproductive, and Megatron switched over into a computer
assault. Infiltrating one of the scientific community's largest e-mail
networks, he began to trace the connections back to prominent
research labs and their databases. Finding the connections between
computers was simple -- even bypassing human-designed protection
systems was no problem -- but sorting through all the data dumped
from all of those computers into the Decepticon mainframe -- that
would take slightly short of forever. But Megatron seemed undaunted
by the massively complicated task that lay ahead of him. His eyes
were fixed on the viewscreens, bright with the intensity of his
concentration. Behind that overlay of brightness, Soundwave could
see the deeper maroon shades of the pain and grief that Megatron was
keeping tightly under control. If only he would talk about it,
Soundwave thought sadly. If only he wouldn't keep it all to himself....
But then, who was he, Soundwave, to make that demand? He had
done the same once, long ago....
An internal audio signal went off inside his helmet,
interrupting the thought. It was as though someone were trying to
contact him by internal radio, but could only send the contact chime,
not the actual voice signal. Someone whose internal radio had been
damaged beyond the point of functional use.
Reluctantly Soundwave rose from his chair. Megatron broke
off from his work and looked up at him beseechingly. "Where are you
going?" he asked.
"I will return in a few minutes," Soundwave assured him by
way of reply. "Then I will assist you in your task."
A hint of gratitude flickered through Megatron's eyes. He
turned back to his computer.
With the contact chime now sounding repeatedly inside his
helmet, Soundwave walked to the nearest turbo-lift and rode up to
repair bay. When he entered the intensive care ward and keyed up the
lights, he found Starscream trying to push and claw at his restraints.
"You can cease your radio signal," Soundwave told him, with some
annoyance at the frantically sounding chime.
Starscream ceased, but continued to push at the restraints.
"Get this thing off me!" he demanded, indicating the cage-like
structure that held him down. His voice held an edge of panic.
Soundwave recalled how flyers like Starscream hated to be restrained,
became more than a little nervous in tightly enclosed spaces.
"Well?" the jet demanded, turning his cracked optic sensor on
Soundwave. "Am I a prisoner or something?"
"No. I restrained you so you would not move in your sleep
and disconnect yourself from life support," Soundwave answered
coldly. He stepped up to the bed and loosened the restraints, lifting the
bars and locking them down again in a higher, looser position. They
would still hinder extensive movement, but would not fit quite so
tightly.
"That's better," Starscream said sullenly. Now that he was
partially repaired, almost comfortable, and not in immediate mortal
danger, his old insolence was becoming apparent again.
Soundwave regarded him dispassionately for a long moment.
"You are a truly revolting piece of garbage," he said. Starscream's
optic sensor brightened in surprise, for Soundwave only rarely stooped
to insults. "Why couldn't you have left Megatron his happiness, just
this once?"
Starscream stared at him speechlessly. Soundwave turned
away, reached for the light switch by the door.
"What do I care about Megatron's happiness?" Starscream
called after him, but his voice faltered -- whether from a twinge of
genuine regret, or from the realization that he was at Soundwave's
mercy as long as he was under repair, Soundwave could not tell.
END
With thanks to Dave Van Domelen for the shuriken image border.
Back to the Timeline
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