by Henry921 » Fri Oct 02, 2015 5:40 am
- Motto: "All I have to be is exceptional."
- Weapon: Battle Blades
Chapter Five
The Darklands- The First Cybertronian Civil War, Ten Million Years Ago
Galvatron stumbled and fell. He could barely stand, but he was confident his opponent had it worse, and he was right. His foe was even bulkier than Galvatron himself, and the weight of a cannon on his foe’s right arm had gradually contributed to his loss of stamina. More of Galvatron’s energon had been spilt on the battlefield, but his foe had far greater power requirements. The protracted struggle had been to Galvatron’s advantage, and his stubborn refusal to surrender –even in the face of his foe’s strength and ferocity- had served him well.
Using his axe to steady himself, Galvatron forced himself to stand and walked to his foe, lying on his back on the ground, unable to lift his massive frame. Galvatron took three steps forward, and leveled his particle cannon forth, the barrel barely the size of his foe’s wrist.
Megatronus, his former leader, lay at Galvatron’s feet, still struggling to rise.
“You abandoned your post,” Galvatron observed. “Such an offense is punishable by death.”
“Don’t quote my rules to me, whelp,” Megatronus ordered, still trying to rise. “You’d never have risen so far without me.”
“You’re correct,” Galvatron agreed, “I’d have died long ago if not for you. You taught me to be stronger than I ever thought possible… and taught me that anyone’s metal could dull with age. You grew complacent, and when I surpassed you, you decided to run instead of accepting the inevitable.”
“Nothing is inevitable,” Megatronus told him. “I know that better than anyone… and I know what damage recklessness can cause. It destroys more than just metal.”
“Spare me your pontification,” Galvatron requested, his cannon charging up. “I want to remember you fondly.”
“I promise to do the same…”
Megatronus finally hoisted his right arm up and charged. The Requiem Blaster, nearly as large as Galvatron himself, charged up and energies gathered in its barrel. Wounded as he was, Galvatron could not do much in response, merely allowing his unfinished charge to fire from the cannon and straight into Megatronus’ primary weapon.
The explosion of energies erupted between them in a sphere, sending Galvatron flying back across the battlefield, landing in a heap several meters away. His particle cannon had borne the brunt of the explosion, and was rendered non-functional, just a sparking heap on his arm.
But he still had his axe, and his foe still lived. And he could not be caught unaware again; the outcome of battle was still undetermined. Galvatron detached the wreckage of his particle cannon and took his axe into his right hand and diverted remaining energon reserves to his legs to keep them steady… if only long enough for one final, desperate charge.
Galvatron charged and swung the axe aloft. Megatronus, driven by rage hotter than the twin suns above Cybertron, lifted himself and his heavy Requiem Blaster…
Megatronus fired. Galvatron leapt skyward, sailing over the purple burst, axe held high.
He swung it down, landing behind Megatronus. His left leg winged and gave out, Galvatron stumbling behind his former leader. He again leaned on his axe to stagger up, as behind him, Megatronus fell forward, a deep gash in his chest, the baleful green of his spark exposed to the open air.
Galvatron turned to Megatronus, staggering towards him, trying to hoist up Megatronus by his head, barely able to hold the weight in his left hand.
“Welcome… to the top of the food chain…” Megatronus congratulated, “I hope it suits you better than it did me.”
Galvatron leveled the axe to his former leader’s neck. “Any last words?”
“I loved her,” Megatronus answered, “She was a Prime, and I was not. All the Primes are gone, Galvatron… all that’s left are their fallen husks.”
“If it helps, history will not remember you as one of their ilk,” Galvatron told him. “I’ll make sure they all know you were the strongest. Your legend will bolster my own.”
Galvatron slashed. Megatronus fell.
“And no Primes will live to dispute the history I’ll make…”
-
Dzungaria Basin, Today
Galvatron and Blitzwing emerged from the teleport flare, dragging the unconscious Prime by his damaged arm, eventually tossing him before the Quintessons and their Nihilicon guards.
Phaedrus looked up from his instruments and levitated over, hoisting a datapad in one tendril and scanning Prime’s fallen body. He turned one set of eyes to the device around Galvatron’s neck, his datapad struggling to read through its energy readings to find the Matrix the Prime carried.
“Is he alive?” Phaedrus asked.
“Barely,” Galvatron confirmed. “Much as I wanted to give him a warrior’s death… I thought he might still have something to contribute to this co-venture.”
“Prudent call,” Phaedrus agreed, still scanning Prime’s body. “The Matrix may have integrated with his systems; possibly even kept him alive after your battle.”
“Do your science and let it be done,” Galvatron instructed gruffly, “I’d like this alliance to have served its purpose.”
“Eager to be rid of us?” Phaedrus wondered.
“Eager to resume my conquest,” Galvatron answered, “this world is not as large as Cybertron, but there is so much more life to subjugate.”
“Oh, quite,” Phaedrus nodded, still toying with his datapad, “We will be only too happy to reduce your burden once we set to work.”
Phaedrus waved over his steward, and Indignious levitated over, carrying the Emberstone.
“Let me show you what we have in mind, Darklander,” Phaedrus offered.
High above them, Buzzsaw heard a familiar beeping, and opened his comms. “What is it now?”
A projection of Soundwave appeared before him, projected from Buzzsaw’s head-mounted camera. “I want you to switch to live recording,” the spymaster told him, “I’ll set up the uplink; just give me as much of the current feed as you can get through the atmospheric interference.”
“Something going down, boss?” Buzzsaw inquired.
“Soon,” Soundwave promised. “Very soon.”
-
Ark-7
“I’ve been wise to Soundwave’s tricks since well before some of you lot even joined this fight,” Kup scolded Jetfire, “there is no reason to trust him.”
“Except that he’s offering us something we need,” Arcee reminded him. “Is there any harm in hearing him out?”
“The smart bots tried looking in his head once*,” Kup pointed out, “It didn’t end well. He could just be stalling for time while his boss finds a place to stash Prime.”
“And what’s our alternative?” Jetfire asked, “Soundwave already infiltrated our systems. We could scan the entire planet instead of taking his call and they’d be tipped off before we could bridge down. I understand your trepidation, Kup, but consider our options.”
Kup seethed. “Alright, lad… let’s try it. But let’s make it short and sweet.”
Jetfire linked the comm systems in his terminal. D.O.C. floated over and aided in the process, and eventually the two set up a holographic projection of their contact. A few seconds passed before a projection of Soundwave appeared before the three Autobots, ‘standing’ over the space bridge.
“I’m glad you were able to see reason,” Soundwave observed, “Shall we begin?”
“Straight to it, ‘Con,” Kup instructed with an accusatory point, “Where did your boss take Optimus Prime?”
The holographic projection of Soundwave reached briefly off-screen before drawing up a second holographic projection of the planet Earth, spinning the three dimensional model in his hands and pointing to a southern portion of Asia. “Northwestern China; Dzungaria,” Soundwave explained, pointing and zooming in on the model. “That is where the meeting is taking place.”
“Meeting? With whom?” Jetfire wondered.
“A mutual enemy,” Soundwave answered. He reached up to tap his ear and spoke quietly, his words muffled by his face mask. A few seconds passed, and Soundwave replaced his projection of the planet with a video feed, where the Autobots could clearly make out Optimus lying in the dirt, Galvatron and Blitzwing standing over him, with a trio of strange, multi-faced cyborgs and nine stoic Cybertronian soldiers.
“And these people are?” Arcee asked.
“I know only one- Phaedrus, their leader,” Soundwave answered, pointing to the cyborg scanning Prime’s body. “He is the one who gave Galvatron the device.”
“So these squids have been pulling the strings,” Kup observed, “Friends of yours?”
“No,” Soundwave answered flatly, “Feel free to destroy as many as you like in pursuit of your leader.”
Soundwave shut off the live feed and tapped a few controls off-screen. “I am setting the exact coordinates,” he stated, typing. A few moments passed and the space bridge flared to life, a circular portal drawn between its four prongs.
Arcee was quick to head in, but Kup caught her shoulder. “Hold it,” Kup told her, before turning his attention to Soundwave, “Show us some proof this isn’t a trap.”
“Your distrust is noted,” Soundwave dryly observed.
“I’m serious, boxy,” Kup sneered, “Send one of your boys through the bridge. Show me your intentions are pure.”
Soundwave stared at Kup for several seconds then complied, walking off screen. There were sounds of a scuffle.
“Jetfire, lad, can you track the jump?” Kup whispered.
Jetfire nodded, and started quietly typing code into his terminal.
A few moments later, Soundwave returned, holding a squirming Dreadwing by his arm. “Come on, I’m not fully patched up yet!”
“Not exactly in our best interests to send more ‘Cons into the fight,” Arcee noted.
“My thoughts exactly,” Kup agreed. “Send him through the bridge, but not to Earth. Show us some good faith.”
“I see you are abusing my generosity,” Soundwave noted, “But very well. I will set coordinates for Cybertron.”
“Cybertron?!” Dreadwing protested, “But I just got here! I wasn’t even done in the scrappin’ R chamber when you pulled me out! What do I tell Needlenose?!”
“From you, I’m certain he is used to disappointment,” Soundwave stated, before throwing Dreadwing against the wall of the bridge and typing in a new heading.
“Come on, why are you doing this?” Dreadwing moaned from the floor.
“We all must sacrifice for the cause, Dreadwing,” Soundwave answred. “Some more than others,” he added quietly.
Soundwave tapped a button above his chest. “Laserbeak, eject. Provide a live feed of our friend’s departure.” Laserbeak popped out, and after a few flaps, deployed his head-mounted camera. “Skywarp, send them through the bridge. Ensure Laserbeak’s safety, but don’t feel the need to be precise with Dreadwing.”
“Gladly,” Skywarp replied from off-screen.
“Guys, come on-“ Dreadwing didn’t get a chance to finish as both he and Laserbeak disappeared in a purple flash. Soundwave walked over to his terminal, and after a few seconds pulled up a slightly distorted camera feed, with Dreadwing landing in a heap next to Maccadam’s. Blurr walked out of his bar, stared at Dreadwing for a few seconds and then threw a shanix down to the heap of blue Decepticon before heading back inside. The camera angle shifted as Laserbeak flew back into the space bridge portal, re-emerging onto the bridge of the Nemesis and flying over to land on Soundwave’s shoulder.
“You treat all your comrades this way?” Kup asked, amused.
“Only the loyal ones,” Soundwave answered, “I am resetting the coordinates. Are we agreed on the course of action?”
“Just put us a little closer to the ground,” Arcee requested, hoisting her large sword. “Unless there’s one of these baddies waiting for me to land on.”
“Establishing trajectory,” Soundwave replied. “I’ve refined the telemetry data and sent the new coordinates.”
Jetfire examined the space bridge data on his terminal. “It matches up,” he said quietly to Kup. “The Cybertron trip was legit. The new coordinates are just a few meters off from the first set he sent.”
“Well, okay then,” Kup agreed, pulling up his blaster. “Any mission parameters on your end, Soundwave?”
“Kill only our mutual enemy, if casualties are necessary,” Soundwave instructed, “There will be time to kill each other tomorrow.”
“Fair enough,” Kup agreed, “Jetfire, tell Sky Lynx to head down so we can medevac Prime. Get Cosmos to give us some air support and jam any human communications; last thing we need is to get them involved. Stay here and keep us informed.”
“Bring him back, Kup,” Jetfire requested, “I don’t want the ‘Cons looking behind the curtain any longer than necessary.”
“You got it, lad,” Kup nodded. “Shall we?”
Arcee was already halfway through the space bridge. “If you can keep up, old man.”
-
Dzungaria Basin
Indignious gulped hard, one of his face masks spinning out of place as he glanced at Galvatron and his subordinate. The Decepticon seemed bored and lethargic, and entrusting a device that could literally manipulate space time to someone who cured boredom with brutal galactic war would put anyone on edge. Yet Phaedrus stood less than three meters from the towering Decepticon, leaning over another unconscious Cybertronian. Why had the Triumvirate insisted on giving him this assignment? Whatever faith they had in Phaedrus would rapidly evaporate if this gamble didn’t pay off, but Indignious would probably be brutally murdered by a Decepticon who could manipulate space time, so it was hard to see much positive to being proven right.
“Can you extract it?” Phaedrus asked.
And of course, they were still heavily reliant on the Decepticons regardless. There were several more functioning Autobots undoubtedly searching for their leader, and billions of fleshies who could potentially venture into the basin and find them before the experiment was complete… the whole situation was intolerable.
Galvatron stepped over, then casually thrust his hand down into Prime’s chest and ripped out the bauble, faint blue light emanating from the Matrix’s left side.
“Efficient,” Phaedrus noted.
“I am well practiced,” Galvatron explained.
And the Decepticons were so… brutish. Even their leader, while bombastic, was as monstrous as his minions. Cybertronians had known little else but war for millions of years, and while that would certainly be an asset if they knew their place, the reality was much different.
Now the Quintessons’ only reliable troops were mindless automatons. The Cybertronians may have been easy to predict, but they were impossible to completely control.
And Galvatron was still holding the Matrix. Why did he delay giving it to Phaedrus?
“Something wrong?” Phaedrus asked, feigning innocent concern.
“Reminiscing,” Galvatron answered, looking down at the bauble, contrasting it with the device around his neck. “Been a long time since I held it.”
-
Iacon, the Dawn of the Golden Age
Galvatron hoisted the Matrix, looking at the glowing blue light, concaved together in its center and giving the appearance of crystalline structure. He examined it briefly, then tossed it back to Alpha Trion. “Absolutely not.”
“Someone must carry it,” Trion told him. “The Age of Primes may have ended, but the people have not forgotten their reign. If you want to maintain your leadership over the allied tribes, you must show them evidence that is universally respected.”
“So give it to Nova; he quite likes affectations,” Galvatron snarled, “I am not-“
“You are stronger than Nova,” Alpha Trion interjected, “No matter how you hide it, and no matter if he refuses to see it, we both know better. You command respect from everyone, and they will respect strength-“
“I thought you said they needed some pointless bauble to respect us,” Galvatron snapped, “Now you say it is my strength?”
“It is their fear, their inability to adjust without the benefit of time,” Trion answered, “They need reminders of their past, even if it’s just a bauble around your neck.”
“This Matrix belonged to Prima,” Galvatron noted, “It was the hilt of the Star Saber. It is not mine.”
“Clearly not so pointless to you,” Trion noted with a sly grin.
“I only wonder why you think I am worthy,” Galvatron replied.
“Neither of you is worthy,” Trion answered flatly. “But unlike Nova, you do not want it. You are willing to let Nova issue commands, because you are finally tired of war and know what a figurehead he really is. Nova would take any claim of legitimacy he can, because he knows he is just an upstart blessed with good fortune. You may want to rule over Cybertron, but you don’t need… affectations for the sake of ego.”
“I am not a Prime,” Galvatron answered simply. “Not Prima. Not Megatronus.”
“I was a Prime,” Trion answered. “But I renounced the name for the good of Cybertron.
“As did Megatronus, when he renounced his title, and let his student take his mantle instead.”
Galvatron’s eyes widened as he looked back at Trion. “You knew?”
“Before I met you,” Trion confirmed, “You killed your master but took nothing he owned. You forged your own path rather than built it on another’s foundation. That is why –of my two choices- I thought you would be preferable to carry the Matrix.”
“It doesn’t matter which of us has it,” Galvatron said. “The war is over, and Cybertron has its peace. What does it matter who has the Matrix?”
“Time will tell,” Trion answered simply.
-
Dzungaria Basin, Present
Galvatron stared at the Matrix for a few moments longer before handing it to Phaedrus, glancing down at Prime and stepping away.
Phaedrus turned to his Nihilicons and issued a command through his datapad. Three of his drones stepped forth from behind the nine overseeing the exchange, each carrying an animal contained within an energy field: one gray wolf, one Chinese mountain cat, and one long tailed goral. Phaedrus approached the three and reached into his chassis, putting away his datapad and pulling out the Emberstone.
He glanced at the two items in his tendrils and then the three alien species, and steadied himself.
“Destiny,” he whispered.
Nearby, a flash of blue drew the attention of the gathered Decepticons and Quintessons, as Arcee and Kup emerged from the space bridge, guns and sword drawn. The Nihilicons reacted immediately, two of their number rushing to intercept the new attackers, only for Arcee to swiftly bisect the first and Kup to put three holes in the head of the second.
“Always underfoot,” Galvatron mused, still whimsical, if less enthused.
“Friends of yours’?” Phaedrus asked.
“I do not have friends,” Galvatron answered.
“Well, good. That simplifies matters,” Phaedrus nodded, turning to the two new arrivals.
“We’ve come for Optimus,” Kup declared. “Hand him over and we’ll be on our way.”
“And why should we comply?” Phaedrus asked. “Consider your situation- we have an overwhelming numerical advantage. Why should we fear you?”
Arcee pulled out her pistol and fired at the nearest Nihilicon. It briefly wandered around, headless, with smoke rising from its neck before it fell back in a heap.
“Your advantage is clearly finite,” she observed.
“Oh, I quite disagree,” Phaedrus said with a smile, as three silhouettes rose behind him. “You see, this planet is quite diverse… so full of simple life, so easily infused with your tech. It’s truly ironic… your past has come calling to consume your future.”
The wolf, the cat, and the goat stepped forth, their limbs augmented by Cybertronian tech, their eyes glowing baneful green, weapons rising from their back as more raw metal seemed to rise out of their once organic flesh.
“What the scrap did we get into…” Kup wondered, pulling up his blaster.
Phaedrus spun his faces around. “Cybertronians, for your theft, for your betrayal, as a representative of the Triumvirate of the Quintesson empire…” He finally selected his Death mask and decreed judgment.
Phaedrus waved his tendril and his three beasts and nine Nihilicons attacked.
“…I sentence you to die.”
*More Than Meets the Eye #14