mighty-megatron:

*A sneer at the mention of the twisted medic.*

We cannot be left without a doctor for any length of time. I will acquire further aid for him.

…

I had wondered why there had been no word from our prized engineer. ..While the Synth En formula is valuable, I would rather have the scientist. Where has he gone?

-No, that is correct. He already saw to the medics quick treatment.

…..

Well…he decided to stay with his alternate on a Starscreams ship. Though not the one you and him are familiar with-

*Of course Soundwave had gotten him emergency care. He expected nothing less- but still, further examination would be necessary.*

…He has opted to stay with your traitorous alternate. *A deep cycle of air. The multiverse was at times more trouble than it was worth.*

Which Starscream?

thelibrarianpax:

Orion Pax agrees with his mentor’s words. Each Cybertronian was unique. Just because two bots shared the same designation did not mean they were identical in each and every way. There would always be variations that set one apart from another, yet despite the differences seen in individuals across the multiverse Orion still could not sit well after hearing about an alternate’s demise. Even if they were completely different from an alternate, they were still ‘people’, and people should be treated justly.

He had many guesses over why Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and several others fought against the other Megatron that orn, but he did not know which one his companion thought of now. With concern etched across his faceplates, Orion looked up at Megatron and gave his darkest answer, for it troubled him long before it (Nemesis Playdate) started. “Is it because they mean to offline you one orn? By traveling from one reality to another, they seek to rid the multiverse of all—" he could not finish it. His words and thoughts burned him like fiery brands.

The warlord returns the serious look not with concern of his own, but instead seemed almost calm, even though his fists clenched behind his back.

“I am certain that that is what they intend to do.” His gaze lingers on Orion for a few moments before looking ahead once more. “There is no reason to stop at one if they were successful and bear such animosity.” He is silent for a while, lost in thought. He shouldn’t ask.

“…I wonder, Orion. If they were to come here in an attempt to finish me- what would you do?”

Searching for Darkness

timetravelingseekerson:

mighty-megatron:

Keeping his control over the flier, Megatron summons a couple vehicons to lift and restrain Stratus. His cloaking gave them a bit of trouble, but with their leader’s help they had him in stasis cuffs within the cycle. The warlord turns without losing focus on the dark energon, walking down the hall and signaling the soldiers to follow with their captive. He will be taken to the brig, and then Megatron would have a few words with the arrogant little trouble-maker.

He struggled against the others influence, making it as difficult as possible for the vehicons, but eventually they managed to restrain him. The influence made him want nothing more then to rip their damned heads off, but he couldn’t fight the hold Megatron had over him. The cuffs made it worse. Though he valiantly tried to keep up the cloak, even that was beginning to fail in flashes. He couldn’t maintain it much longer. He would be clearly visible for a second at a time, unable to move. He knew where he was being taken, and he knew that his decision to come here, had indeed been a very very bad Idea.

A cycle later, the seeker hung from the ceiling, his wrists caught in stasis cuffs. His ankles were bound together and weighed down as well, further limiting his motion. Megatron releases his hold on the young mech once he’s sure that escape isn’t possible, and gives the order to dismiss the vehicons. The door shuts on the two of them, the only light directly above the prisoner, and Megatron’s burning optics piercing the black.

“So…” he begins, voice cruel and cold as ever. “Stratus. I’m curious. Why would you sneak onto a ship full of mechs that are not only trained warriors, but who despise the very idea of your existence? And not only that, but antagonize the leader of said warriors and his most loyal subordinate?” As he speaks, he steps closer, but remains out of the light so that all the seeker can see of him is the slightest glint of light from the sharp edges of his armor, and his blazing red optics.

It’s Done

cybertronianwanderer:

He was more than slightly surprised when the warlord entered. He was too busy making tweaks to his new dual-minigun set up he had on his shoulders for now. He was going to see how capable it was as an anti-air weapon.

“Sir! Of course. Let me get the WIP pictures up,”

Going to a terminal, he opened up a gallery of photos, each at a different stage of development. The first section he focuses on is the barrel.

“Stage one was an enhanced barrel. It’s longer and stronger than your last one. It will withstand up to 354% safe overload. Any more and it risks fracturing.”

“Stage two was the firing mechanism. I had some trouble with the focusing mirrors as I hadn’t expected the resonance to be so strong. We ended up completely scrapping the original one and making it from scratch with new mirrors. The armour-piercing capabilities are best at medium range combat, where the default focusing is. You can manually focus them for closer or further away, but the less focused it is, the more it becomes a heavy hitter than a piercing shot.”

He moved to a diagram of the cooling mechanism.

“See the slight mist? Because of the raw power, cooling was a necessary addition. Your standard heat-sinks were woefully underperforming, to the point of the weapon being dangerous after extended use. I’ve installed a liquid nitrogen cooling system in your new weapon. When not used, it should be quite cold to the touch. In colder climates, it might begin to freeze over. That was a problem until we managed to let it self-regulate with reactive piping.”

“Stage four, the stabilisers. An eradicon was injured during the first test fire as the weapon sheared itself off the platform and blind-sided him. Attaching mini-industrial strength shock-absorbers and stabilisers, the weapons recoil has been reduced by 36%. I must warn you, however, that it is still much stronger a recoil than your old weapon. I was built to handle large ground-pounders, but even I’m wary to attach this to myself without modification.”

“The last stage is a bit of an optional experiment. It’s a range finder, and a general guideline for where to aim for the long distance shots. I know how you like to fight, so I wasn’t going to attach this without your permission.”

Megatron listened to each stage, taking in his new weapon. With the size and weight increase alone, he can see the need for his skeletal modifications. The focusing mirrors came as no surprise to him. They hadn’t been tended to for vorns and he’d trained himself to adjust them manually at every range. He found it was more accurate that way.

The cooling mechanism was something he hadn’t seen in a weapon that was to be worn. His old cannon had gotten incredibly hot with overuse; having one that would regulate better was a welcome change.

The stabilizers do not concern him either. The warlord had faith in his own strength, certain that he could withstand the recoil easily with a bit of practice with his reinforced limb. He was a notoriously difficult mech to throw off-balance. The final addition however earns a shake of his helm.

“No. I pride myself on skill. If I miss, then I miss- I will not have a crutch built in to my weapon.” He runs a servo over the barrel. “Otherwise, I shall have to view a test fire before having it reattached.”

noire-neutral:

mighty-megatron:

Megatron’s optic ridges came together in serious thought. She was right, of course. The Megatron of this universe would return, and he couldn’t stop it… Her chances of surviving the encounter were slim to none. Getting the femme off the ship was indeed the wisest choice. “I will escort you, then. Let the others believe that your execution will be private.” Not far from the energon storage, Megatron subspaces a few cubes, enough for the ship to get far enough to locate more fuel.

“Where is your ship?”

Noire’s optics widened in surprise. “its not far.” she rattled off the coordinates to her ship. She was still baffled by the kindness she was being shown. She studied the warlord, still finding it hard to believe such kindness was possible from an incarnation of megatron.

Taking note of the coordinates, the Shattered leader calls Soundwave, requesting a ground bridge. <<I wish to view the wreckage myself.>> was his reasoning, which the spy took without question. Once a green portal opens before then, he turns back to offer a servo to Noire. “Quickly.”

noire-neutral:

Noire frowned. His offer was tempting. “What happens when you go though? I’m absolutely certain when your alternate returns he wont be pleased to know his resources and manpower have gone to help a mouthy neutral.” She smirked. “I don’t want to put you in that situation, if they figure out you’re not their Megatron…” She frowned. “I need to leave the ship. Should something happen and you leave, if I’m still on the Nemesis the next time you come back I may have joined the Allspark.”

Megatron’s optic ridges came together in serious thought. She was right, of course. The Megatron of this universe would return, and he couldn’t stop it… Her chances of surviving the encounter were slim to none. Getting the femme off the ship was indeed the wisest choice. “I will escort you, then. Let the others believe that your execution will be private.” Not far from the energon storage, Megatron subspaces a few cubes, enough for the ship to get far enough to locate more fuel.

“Where is your ship?”

xxxsoundwavexxx:

Read More

…He was seriously considering punching a shadow in the face. What had he done to Soundwave? That rat couldn’t possibly have just left him there for vorns without using the youngling’s disadvantage in his favor somehow. Uploaded some kind of coding, altered his frame without consent? Anything was possible and even likely.

This… this was why Soundwave was so loyal to him when Megatron first knew the targetmaster. Because Ratbat had “saved” him.

“…Why are you showing this to me now? This cannot be what you fear me to know, I already have issue with your former master. Show me what it is you are reluctant to reveal.”

alpha113n-redshirt-eradicon:

vehicon-kenny:

Kenny does so, stepping forward with a quick salute. Once their leader got talking, it would be difficult to get a word in edgewise. He didn’t figure Megatron would be asking too many questions anyway, so he should get it out now before things got hot. It was speaking out of term, but hey, how much more trouble could he get into? It all lead in the same direction.

“Before you do anything, my lord, I’d like to make it clear that absolutely ALL credit belongs to me. I’m not sharing the glory with these uncreative grunts. The ingenuity that went into accessing your terminal was mine and mine alone,” he says with a little flourish of the servo.

Kenny turns to the others, making shooing motions.

“Go on. Scat. You didn’t do anything to help me. Get out while the big mechs talk. Your presence is no longer required.”

If his manner weren’t condescending enough, his voice is. There. Go back and leak your optics out over your spared sparks with your friends, wimps. He’s got a hard-won date with the Pit, and neither of you are invited.

A tight feeling catches Allen’s insides. Not just because of the thought of losing one of his best friends, but also because he was about to speak to his lord on a subject matter that really didn’t concern him. It was a dangerous idea even coming down in the first place. But dying this way, at the hands of his master was better than any other he could think of.

Allen glares at Kenny before he takes his stand. He wasn’t going to leave just because Kenny told him to. “Lord Megatron,” Allen bowed in a nod. “Although it was all Kenny’s idea for the mess on your data pad, may I request you keep his spark online? I know it sounds like a stupid request… but, take and see instead the good that can come from this situation! He’s a good hacker, right? Maybe commander Soundwave can use him! And just think of how loyal commander Soundwave is, who knows, maybe Kenny will mature and turn out the same way! I know Kenny is good for something, Lord Megatron. Please reconsider off lining him!” Allen let his words sink in for a moment before backing off his stand and bowing once more.

Primus but did the vehicon sound like Starscream. His instincts to bat the mech across the room flared dramatically, but then one of the fliers stepped forward, with a much more submissive tone.

“Silence. Regardless of his accomplishments, I cannot allow this to pass without retribution. A personal attack on the name of the Decepticon leader? By one of his own soldiers? Do you expect me to let such a thing go unpunished?!”

He punctuates his final question with a swift motion forward, his helm lowered to nearly optic level of the soldiers.

imadoctor-notasoldier:

The stack of cars he had been knocked back into rattled and for a painful second, Ratchet thought they might overbalance and bury him. His spark pulsed anxiously in its chamber as his HUD flashed with warning. The hit hadn’t been enough to damage it, Ratchet far too armored even for that.

Pressing his servo over the injury briefly, pain radiated from the touch, drawing a static laced hiss from him. He reached out to a steady pile of scrap to try and drag himself back up as Megatron’s steps drew closer.

The Decepticon might not be prepared to draw his weapon yet, but that didn’t stop Ratchet. With a hesitant click of gears, he activated the short blade in his left arm, clearing away the warnings from his vision.

“I have redeemed myself,” he gritted out.

Watching the surgical blade be drawn, the Megatron’s devious grin only widens. And here he thought the good doctor wouldn’t put up a fight. Dark laughter fills the scrapyard as he finally sees fit to extend his sword. Ratchet may not be much of a fighter, but surgical blades were not to be underestimated.

“Have you now? Care to see if Primus will welcome you with open arms?” he mocked, letting the edge of his blade scrape against the medic’s, trapping him against the pile of vehicles.

fluttersinmytank:

The datapad was finally tucked away into his subspace after frantically typing out a few last messages to friends and mechs hoping to protect him. At least now his spark could be partially warmed by the knowledge that despite someone hating him as much as Kenny did, there were plenty more mechs who cared for him enough to put their lives on the line. That would at least be a nice thought to leave with. it wasn’t like he could ask for much else.

He hesitates just a few more moments at the door, just to try and reign in his composure. There was no way he would want Lord Megatron, and especially Kenny, to be able to tell that he had been crying as he made those goodbyes.

Just like the sparkling Kenny always told him he was. Well not now. He takes one last deep intake, flicks up his wings, and enters. His body is very visibly tense, but there is very little sign of shaking. You’d only be able to notice if you watched his wings closely. But he knew no one would dare to take their optics off their leader now.

“…You summoned me, my lord?” Akiba at least has the small satisfaction of seeing Kenny standing before their lord. Good. So he was going to own up after all. But no sign of the other mech that was called. Had that one made the choice he almost made himself? Did he decide to run? The only mech left was Allen. His fellow flier had come to defend his friends after all. just like he said. Akiba steps forward until he stands beside both of them. For now, all he does is salute. Lord Megatron would want to start the discussion himself.

Ah, finally. The third eradicon involved somehow in this childish nonsense. The warlord stands at his full height, arms folded behind his back. He looks from one to the next, looking for any markers that may identify these three from the numerous eradicons on his ships. Little chips and scars in their armor, dents in the plating. None of them are familiar to him already, but then again, most of the soldiers that had distinguished themselves in his optics had perished.

“Designation K3N-N13. Step forward.”