METATISIC: PART FIFTEEN
TITLE: Metatisic., Metatisic: Saga One
TYPE: Transformers G1 fiction
AUTHOR: Megan Seekings & A. Chandler
FIRST RELEASE: 1985, 1986, & 1987.
Revised edition 5/8/03, 2004-2008
SUMMERY: Unable to obtain it from their native planet of Cybertron, Decepticon leader, Galvatron resorts to excavating an asteroid particle that has tested positive for Cybertonium, dispatching a crew to retrieve it. But as the surface layers are removed, trace outline of an ancient staircase unintentionally leads the party on a sudden and very unexpected journey deep into Cybertronian history prior to the first Great War some 14 million years ago!
CHAPTER 8: SOMEWHERE NEXT TO NOWHERE
Bractos - G9-12; the Eastern fortifications
(What little remains ..)
A beam of red light flickered against Megatron's white cheek. He looked up from where he was crouched in the mess.
The pinpoint of infrared was a line to an optic. The sigh of metal on metal, a blade being removed from plating, made him shiver. A cruel sliver of reality banishing his momentary daze, the sword swung high just as the boy started to move. The force of the first titanic swing knocked the heir to his knees.
Though his mind could not quite grasp the sight he was faced with, Megatron realized his mistake instantly.
His frame, sadly, did not comply as quickly as he needed it to and fear, something he had never really known before, introduced its long sleek digits as it dug into his synapses like the talons of a vector hawk.
The conflicting signals for panic and immediate danger overrode any conscious control Megatron had over himself. Spilt mech fluid made the sea of dead and dying beneath him slick as he scrambled over them. There was little purchase to be had, his hands and feet slipping, causing him to tumble as if he was a bit of synthetic fluff in the wind.
End over end he plunged down the embankment littered with bent and twisted frames. His silver-white paneling shot sparks as it glanced off sharp edges or made contact with what little open current remained in some of the shredded Rougeons or the stalwart members of his father's defense force who gave their lives to stop them. Death paid little care to whom it came for, casting its gray and rust pallor over ally and enemy alike.
The boy did not have the time to appreciate such grand statements himself.
When his mad plunge finally came to a stop, he tried to ignore his malfunctioning equilibrium sensors. Forcing himself to his unsteady feet, he looked frantically for somewhere to hide. Here there were more clear spots where the metallic pavement was broken or dust had simply lurched through the wall. Amid the piles of bodies, there were niches. Welcoming niches just the right size
"Hey " his pursuer buzzed and spat sparks, and giggled uncontrollably in spurts. "W-why-zzzzz s-stop!? Eh- heh fun heh."
Megatron swung hard about, venting the heat from his taxed systems in a gasp.
The damaged Rougeon was even more horrible than he'd first thought ...and how it had followed him down the hill was a mystery. With most of its cranial section blown away, it was little more than a collection of bare processors a single sputtering red optic and a torn mouth. Leaking copious amounts of fluid, it was an image from one of his playmate's ghost stories. A demon, a thing that should not be, an abomination... just like those monsters with five heads. He'd once put such things off as fantasy but if this could be real then those things could be real too
Terrified far beyond speech or action, Megatron could only stare.
"Pretty, eh heh " the thing moved unnaturally, jerkily, like a malfunctioning droid. " know you " It laughed, " should come you like "
As the thing tittered to itself but remained still, Megatron found his courage returning. This slight freedom restored his thoughts to him. He was the son of the great Metatisic! A coward he was not! He raised his cannon, concentrating and diverting power from his operating defenses to his seldom-used offensive weaponry. His running lights dimmed slightly as the cannon charged.
"What you do?" The monster Rougeon was becoming more coherent.
Fear returned with a vengeance when the creature shambled forward. The rattling of its plating mimicked the fluttering of the boy's fluctuating power cycle. With a shriek, the boy lurched backwards to run, his optics slamming shut as his cannon discharged.
The bolt knocked him off his feet, but he heard nothing else. Maybe maybe he had been lucky. Slowly he opened his eyes to find the Rougeon staring at him.
The mech's lone optic was no longer flickering.
"W-well well what d-do I have here?" The mech's self-repair systems were visibly dampening the leak of fluid from his wasted cranial area.
The vornling back-pedaled, sliding back, trying to wedge his frame into one of the niches he'd seen earlier and knew was there. Karna willing there was enough space. If he only shoved hard enough he could get so far back that the thing couldn't reach him. Just a little harder.
The metal won't give! The metal won't give!
"The D-dourje-e-r's b-brat. Y-you will f-fetch a f-fine price."
The renegade's blade lifted drawing a bar of shade across the young Decepticon. Megatron huddled up on himself, trying to be a small as possible, trying to press into the tiny unforgiving space. He knew that he was about to die... he threw his arms up over his head, awaiting the final blow of that hideously wet sword.
It never fell --but someone, or something, transformed.
The boy had never felt a color before, but he seemed to feel one now: Yellow. It was bright and sounded like an explosion, but he was sure that could not be. He was alone with that monster. Alone with that terrible sword. A strange silence drifted over him as his detached thoughts floated in nothingness.
"Megatron!? What are you doing here, MEGATRON!?"
Footsteps. They sounded heavy, but hollow.
Then he was being lifted up. He said his goodbyes in his head...
Megatron was operable, and for that there was reason to feel grateful, but the lad was also catatonic. The elder robot who had walked and knelt by his side shifted him to his gun arm and gently tried to pry the child's arms from over his face with his free hand.
"Megatron!? .. Megatron stop! Stop it! You are safe, there's no need to be frightened."
There was a moment before the arms came free from child's face at last.
"Ah? There you are."
"S-sshockwave?!" Megatron's optics were wide and fluid had gathered at their lower channels.
"Yes, see?" The disappointment at the youngster's disobedience that he originally came here with dissolved allowing his voice to return almost to its normal timbre. Now Shockwave's single optic radiated a bright warm gold that seemed to gild the child's plating.
"Bb-but the ..the ..."
"Him?" Shockwave motioned, "Deactivated."
Megatron said nothing, but threw his small arms around Shockwave's neck.
"Come on." The large mech consoled, "Come. Let's get you back to the Iysurus ...Come."