Larry Bignell
Author’s Note: I’ve decided, once again, to focus on everyone’s favorite tyrant-wannabe, Megatron. I hope you enjoy!
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Old
Flames part 1 Megatron,
leader of the Predacons, future ruler of the galaxy and all around swell guy,
gently lowered his aching frame into his hot tub. The warm liquids slowly found
their way into his joints, easing the collected dirt from his parts. Fighting
the Maximals was a painful, duty business; Dinobot, bless his dearly departed
spark, had really taken it out of him. But then again, being slammed in the side
of the head with a bloody-great lump of rock wasn’t really the best thing for
his cranial servos. Inferno
scuttled in, ignoring the fact that his Queen was resting in a giant vat of
industrial goo. Megatron
shot him an angry glare, one that failed to get through. He snapped, “What do
you want?” “Royalty,”
Inferno announced with a hint of excitement, “Tarantulas reports a fallen
stasis pod in sector omicron. The Maximals are aware of its presence. We are in
process of implanting a Predacon shell chip.” “Excellent,
yesss! How long before our new recruit”-----cannon
fodder----“is ready?” Inferno
remained silent. Megatron’s
eyes narrowed to pin pricks. “Well?” Inferno
made no move. “Well?”
Megatron hissed, his voice as cold as ice
and twice as deadly. “I
do not know, Royalty. Tarantulas did not say.” Megatron
scowled darkly. He dismissed Inferno with a wave of his hand. Once he was sure
the ant was gone, he lifted himself out of the tub and shook himself clean. “I
suppose I should go and see my new recruit,” he said to himself, absently.
It was not as if he needed to, of course, but still, if he wished to command
respect from his new soldier, then a show of force was necessary. He
stepped into vehicle mode and skated off. It
took less than a quarter-megacyle to get to the crash site. As he landed,
Megatron took note of his surroundings. Rampage and Blackarachnia diligently
guarded (or so it seemed) the latest of Megatron’s new pupils. Dropping from
the sky in robot mode, he landed elegantly with a loud but muffled thud! Tarantulas
pottered with the pod’s controls, his four, transmetallic fingers hammered the
keys with as much cares as he could muster. “Nearly ready, Megatron,” he
sputtered, his fingers finishing their waltz. With
a hiss, the stasis pod began to glow yellow. The lid opened with a slow moan,
spreading its light on the Predacon onlookers. Megatron allowed himself an
oh-so-brief moment of pleasure to enter him, but quickly stemmed it before the
others noticed. The
pod’s lifted lid stopped hissing and all was quiet. Rampage’s fervoured
breath grew steady with the rhythmic pulse of his internal processor. A new
spark to terrorise! Oh, how wonderful! Unfortunately, on the thought of the word
terrorise, his internal processor
interpreted it as a command to transform, and he instantly jumped from crab- to
robot-mode, his launcher in hand. Reading the rifle, he tried to make out that
the whole incident had been planned. “I
don’t think that will be necessary, Rampage, nooo,” Megatron said, just
tweaking Rampage’s spark fragment a spot so to twinge the crab. Rampage
dropped his gun as his hands went into spasm. “Enough, Megatron! I get the
idea!” “Excellent,”
Megatron gloated. “Now…” All
eyes turned once again to the stasis pod, Megatron’s burning with an intensity
that would have surprised even him. A
hand, slim, tender and dark maroon appears at the edge of the stasis pod, and
began to pull its purple body upright. Inferno
jumped in front of Megatron, his defences raised. A
face, slender and handsome, appears attached to a neatly curved body. “My,”
the voice said, distinctly female, “what excellent specimens, yesss!” Megatron,
slightly surprised by the new unit’s use of his speech patterns stepped
forward for a better look. “Are
you not going to help me up, Megatron, or will I have to stay here like this
forever?” Megatron
half smiled, half scowled. “Oh, crap!” Rattrap
sat silently in what had, until yesterday, been Dinobot’s quarters. Memory
after memory came to him, old sparring matches, arguments, and even memories of
the occasional comradeship. He remembered old Lizard Lip’s final words to him
and he smiled. In his own little way, the mighty and proud warrior had finally
said the one thing neither of them had ever said to each other: “You’re a
friend.” Those simple words, always implied, but never uttered. Rattrap had
always believed that there had been time to say them, but that time had run out;
war had consequences. “Always later,” he said to himself, not realising for
an instant that it had been said aloud. “Well, Dinobot, you were my best
friend. Keep well, buddy.” He
glanced towards the doorway and glimpsed a shadow. For a passing instant he
thought that it might just be…But it wasn’t. The shadow belonged to
Silverbolt. Rattrap quickly put Dinobot’s sword back on the holder above the
bunk and turned to the Fuzor. “Optimus’
called a meeting,” Silverbolt said, respecting the sombre atmosphere. Rattrap
dropped to the floor. “Oh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m comin’” “He
will be sorely missed,” Silverbolt offered, more to break the impending
silence than solace. “There was never a more honorable warrior than he.” “Yeah,
whatever, Dog Breath,” Rattrap snapped, shirking the Fuzor’s attempts to
cheer him. Rattrap didn’t want to
be cheered up.
“Where’s
Cheetor?” Optimus stepped to the Axalon’s
computer and activated Sentinel. Cheetor appeared as a white dot crossing the
boundary between grids. He was, at least, returning from his patrol without
incident. He and Optimus turned to see Rattrap and Silverbolt enter the darkened
bridge. Seconds later, Cheetor popped up in the lift. “What’s
the prob, big bot?” the youngster quipped. “A
stasis pod crashed landed in sector omicron early this morning.” “What,
didn’t we detect it?” Rhinox asked. “You
tell me,” Optimus replied, “That’s not the issue here, the issue is that
by now, Megatron’s found it and he’s already brought a new unit into the
war. It’s out there and but we don’t know where. I want each of you to go
out and find it. Cheetor, you go with me; Rattrap, you got with Dinob—I mean
Silverbolt. Bring it back alive if you can.” --slagslagslag!
Optimus mentally kicked himself. “I’m
already gone!” Cheetor flipped out his wings and was away before Optimus had
time to blink. “Dismissed.” “On
our way.” Silverbolt dropped into
flight mode and plucked Rattrap in his talons before he could cry out. Turning
to Rhinox, Optimus said, “What about the Quantum wave front?” Rhinox
turned to him. “In three days, they’ll know we’re here.” “Excellent,
I’ll be back in a megacycle. If anything goes wrong—“ “I’ll
take care of it,” Rhinox finished. “After all, I am big enough to look after
myself.” Optimus
couldn’t suppress a smile. “Okay, big fella. Optimus Primal—Flight
mode!” In
a flurry of flesh and metal, Optimus was
away. “Well,”
said the figure. “That wasn’t the greeting I expected, nooo!” The
others looked at Megatron in complete surprise. Megatron grimaced at the new
figure. Something about her looked very familiar. “Gigawatt,”
he said, coldly. “From which sulphur pit did you spring from?” Gigawatt’s
face lit up in a mockery of joy. “You still remember me, Slapshot!” “Slapshot?”
Waspinator said, highly surprised. “Megetronnn’ iz not Megatronnnn’z
name?” “Yes,
he is,” said Gigawatt. “To me.” Rampage
stopped scowling and dropped to the floor in hysteria, clutching his chest as he
writhed in agony. His raucous laughter echoing for miles around. It did not take
long for some of the hysteria to spread, especially into Blackarachnia, who
joined Rampage on the ground, rolling over and clutching her belly. Megatron
stood for none of this. He grabbed Rampage’s spark casing and squeezed more
than he ever had before, roaring with rage. Rampage’s
bellows of pain soon overcome his laughter. Sparks flew out of his mouth and his
eyes began to smoke. “Enough!” he winced. “Yes!
That’s enough!” cried Gigawatt, throwing the Spark from Megatron’s claw.
“Don’t you remember what they taught you in the Predacon academy?” “’Leaders
command respect, not terror’” Megatron, quoted, “’Leave the fear for the
enemy’. There, is that right?” Gigawatt
nodded. She turned to the other Predacons. “What do you want?” The
others turned their heads away. “Leave
us,” she told them, her very voice commanding respect. The
others stopped and looked curiously at their leader. Megatron
let out a growl of distaste. “Leave. Return to base and await further
instructions. Inferno,” he whispered to the ant, low enough for Gigawatt not
to hear. “Follow at a discrete distance.” “Yes
Royalty!” Inferno roared, saluting. “Shh!”
Megatron waved his hands for Inferno to be quiet. “She’ll hear you!” “Yes
Royalty!” Inferno whispered, turning away into the distance. “Hurry
up, Slapshot!” Megatron
growled for the hundredth time. “Coming, dear!”