OBEY ME

"I saw this coming, but I did nothing."

⬵⤁

Megatron gazed at the new arm, flexing the flat black digits and tilting the servo this way and that to look at the red and blue paint job. Knock Out had done a stunning job, he had to admit. Each wire was welded together seamlessly, no marks on the appendage to be seen, and he had retained all feeling. The transfer had been a success.

    He would need to personally thank Optimus Prime for his generous donation.

    About midway through the procedure Soundwave had reported Ratchet's onlining, Megatron deciding it was the perfect time to refuel and test his new connection to the Autobot. And, of course, to show off his new arm.

    It was a pity, as he had just demonstrated that he was willing to - literally - get on the human's level to show he was not messing around, but Knock Out had advised against mass displacement for the time being. He was sure the tyrant could perform such a trick, however he did not want the fresh welds to be aggravated. The last thing Megatron would want was to accidentally rip the new arm off.

    The irony was not lost to him.

    Ingesting a mix of regular and dark energon, Megatron made his way to the prisoner cells. He opted to not have Soundwave record this session, wanting this to be more personalized. Not even Dreadwing was summoned to restrain the medic, or the Vehicon guards allowed to enter with their master. This was between him, Ratchet, and the human.

    His new digits tapped in the passcode with satisfactory effortlessness, the door sliding open to see Ratchet was once again sitting on the ground, Jack curled in a ball next to him.

    Hateful, purple optics looked up to glare at him, though the expression was broken when Ratchet took the moment to realize something was different about the tyrant. His gaze settled on the new arm, the realization snapping the medic into action.

    "Megatron, what have you done?" He yowled, rolling to his pedes. It was clear the Dark Energon had benefited the medic, as he moved faster and with more ease than before. His optics burned, and much to Megatron's surprise Ratchet went into full battle mode.

    Charging forward, the medic deployed his blades and made to cut into the Decepticon. Jack woke up due to the commotion, shouting Ratchet's name in warning as he watched his friend charge forward.

    Megatron merely grinned, enjoying this new display of spirit within the Autobot. Suddenly, a dark presence pressed against Ratchet's consciousness and forced him to pause, immediately transforming and putting his servos to his helm. A thought trickled into his processor, one that was foreign and most certainly not his.

    Stop.

    "N-no," he snarled, fighting his new instinct to obey the command. His optics burned, meeting the purple of a dictator he hated so much. He lunged again, though the attack was easily stopped by Megatron putting up a servo and lightly shoving him back.

    Bow.

    "No!" Ratchet fought to straighten his stabilizers when they tried to bend in response. "Get out of my head!"

    Jack pressed himself against the wall, watching as his companion struggled to regain composure. Megatron's optics were glowing brightly, the human's most apparent indication that he was attempting to exert his control over Ratchet.

    "I said: bow," Megatron growled to him, only patient enough for a little resistance, nothing more. His servo came down on the top of Ratchet's helm, and he shoved the medic to the ground.

    The proud Autobot fell to his knees, his servos jerking forward to catch him, bowing his helm in shame as Megatron applied his will over him. Jack felt his hands curl into fists again, the anger for the warlord burning in his heart and spreading through his body again. If Megatron decided to shrink again, Jack would make sure he got his hands on the right cable this time.

    The dictator still had his servo on Ratchet's helm, as if he was giving the medic a blessing.

    "You will serve me now," he said, growling and clicking in his accursed Decepticon tongue. "Your loyalty lies with me, and no one else. Not even Optimus Prime."

    "No . . ." Ratchet wanted it to come out stronger, but all that he seemed capable of producing was a whimper. Even when Megatron forced their thoughts together and sank his claws - figuratively - into Ratchet's mind, he still resisted. He could never swear fealty to the monster.

    "They do not want you back, medic," Megatron crooned, kneeling so that he was on more even ground with the Autobot. His claws trailed down from Ratchet's helm, across his cheek, and to his chin. Gripping it and forcing him to tilt his head up, purple optics looked at one another. "You have been replaced. You are useless to them now. But not to me. Never to me."

    A shiver ran across Ratchet's frame, and he tried to resist. He really truly tried, but faltered as Megatron's consciousness caressed his own.

    "I have many uses for you. Your brilliance will not go unnoticed by me. How many times has Optimus Prime, or anyone else for that matter, commended you for your work? You built a base from the ground up, I suspect, and they said nothing of it. You saved them from death, and there was nothing from them; not even an ounce of gratefulness. Even now, they have abandoned you. I have sent messages, prompted them to open negotiations - yet there has been nothing."

    "Liar," Ratchet snarled weakly, having heard this a hundred times before from him. And yet he was right. Very rarely did any of the other Autobots express gratitude for what he had done. It was always just repairs, then being sent off to battle, then returning for more repairs. Ratchet honestly never gave it much thought, however now the idea would not leave. Just how many times had he repaired his comrades, yet felt inadequate or useless because they never bothered to give him thanks? It was part of the reason he turned to the Synthetic Energon formula, hoping it would work. Not just because he wanted to help his team - that was undeniably the larger part of it - but because he wanted to be recognized as something more than just a medibot. He wanted to truly be a part of Team Prime.

    "I promise you, Ratchet, I will never abandon you," Megatron purred, his digit scraping the underside of the medic's chin. "Not when we share this bond. Now, you are far more important to me than any other officer aboard this ship. And I will ensure you know this."

    He knew his words were getting to the medic when he closed his optics, trying to force the poison from his processor. But Megatron knew he had a captive audience, able to feel the barest of Ratchet's thoughts when they brushed up against his. They were trying to disprove what he said, but more often than not he found that the Decepticon was right.

    "Give your spark to me, to the Decepticon cause, and I will give you everything else in return."

    "Ratchet!"

    Megatron snarled when the medic seemed to snap out of a trance, his hold briefly weakening on Ratchet's psyche.

    Jack stood tall, his hands curled into fists as he glared at the tyrant.

    "Leave. Him. Alone."

    "Pest," Megatron let Ratchet go, the medic tilting his head away and putting a servo to his forehead. "Once I am finished with him, you will be next."

    Ratchet was trying to fight the invasive thoughts in his head, pushing them away and able to gain just a small bit of traction. Of course they were thankful for him, they always would be. Even if they did not say it outright, Ratchet could feel it, and see it in their actions and words. They were a team, a family. The Autobots would never give up on each other.

    The human's blue eyes just glared up at Megatron, glittering in the dim light.

    "You can't infect me with dark energon," he snapped, feeling some sense of idiotic bravery. "It would kill me. And Ratchet won't let that happen."

    The warlord regarded him for a moment, his lips spreading into a wide grin and fangs shining.

    "Such spunk," he purred, not at all intimidated by Jack's words. "I will enjoy breaking you as well."

    Chills crept down Jack spine, but he suppressed the shudder. Now was not the time to demonstrate any fear. He needed to distract Megatron long enough to let Ratchet gain some control back.

    "You won't dare hurt him," this time it was Ratchet that spoke, the medic shoving away Megatron's delusions and regaining a little bit of clarity. "If you so much as lay a finger on him, I will tear you apart."

    "It seems the fight has come back to both of you today," Megatron just laughed, mocking the medic and his charge. "No matter, you are under my control."

    Ratchet cried out as the presence returned full-force, Megatron now not leaving any room for resistance or argument as he forced his will upon the Autobot.

    Yes, my master.

    The medic mewled, holding his helm in his servos, as if that would somehow protect him from Megatron's hold. Sharp digits returned to his chin, tilting his helm up as a voice, one that sounded miles away, whispered for him to utter the words.

    "Yes, my . . . master," his frame shuddered as the words left his glossa, his wires uncoiling and chassis relaxing with that final word. It was as if a sense of comfort had settled over him, affectionate and kind. Someone shouted his name, but it was quiet, insignificant. He had but one purpose.

    Megatron grinned in satisfaction, caressing the side of Ratchet's helm with his dangerous servo. Jack felt sick to his stomach, watching as Megatron seemed to turn the medic into some kind of pet. Even worse, it did not appear that his pleas for Ratchet to listen to him were even reaching the Autobot. He was effectively being ignored.

    "Much better," Megatron praised. He flashed a nasty grin at Jack, but then was rudely interrupted by a ping from Soundwave. The fall in his expression would have been comical had the new grin not sent intensely cold fingers down Jack's back.

    The tyrant rose to his full height, Jack once again given the odd, wrong sight of seeing Optimus' arm attached to Megatron's body. By some cosmic bad luck on the Autobot's part, Megatron had managed to sever the Prime's left arm; this meant the dictator could not only potentially wield the Star Saber, but he kept his fusion cannon intact. So even if they managed to incapacitate him one way, he was still very much capable of wreaking havoc.

    It was obvious Megatron relished the sight of Jack's horrified expression, gesturing with his new limb in a grandiosity fashion.

    "I have yet to properly thank you for your contribution to the Decepticon cause," he mocked. "As difficult as it has been to keep you alive, it is most satisfactory to see my efforts have not been in vain. You allowed for the willing participation of the former Autobot medic and coerced Optimus Prime into surrendering the Star Saber."

    The bow he did was anything but respectable, the human knowing full well it was so Megatron could get a little closer to him. Purple optics glittered at him, the face of nightmares grinning as if the devil himself had been offered up a soul.

    "Thank you, Jack. Your usefulness knows no bounds."

    The human just glared back at him, his own teeth bared in a savage display of aggression. It was taking all of his willpower to not charge forward and try to punch the tyrant, well aware he would just break his hand if he tried. With a slight startle Jack realized what he was thinking, which was not only stupid, but fueled by hate. He hated Megatron.

    "Nothing to say? A pity." Megatron hardly seemed offended. His gaze returned to Ratchet, beckoning him with a wave of his digits. "Come, my pet. Soundwave has brought an important directive to my attention. You will accompany me on this endeavor."

    It was clear the Autobot was still fighting and struggling, his body shaking as he rose from his knees. His helm was still bowed, optics trained on the floor. If this bothered the tyrant he did not show it, instead grinning at Jack.

    "Behave yourself. We wouldn't want any . . . dire punishments to befall you." With that final warning he turned and left the room, Ratchet obediently following him. The medic was able to spare one last glance at Jack, all of the pain in the world in his optics. The door clanged shut behind him, Jack left alone in the expansive room.

Once again Jack had to resist the urge to scream or hit something, instead allowing a wave of emotion to crash over him.

    The force of it made him drop to his knees, now suddenly feeling very, very alone. Helplessness and sorrow wrapped around his heart, coming to the realization that he could very much have been the cause of everything.

    He was the one who decided to stay for that stupid drive, forcing Ratchet to come to his rescue and subsequently be captured.

    He was the reason Ratchet kept caving, as the medic strived for his safety above all else.

    He was the reason Optimus Prime was crippled, if not dead, having been so stupid to think he could just trade his life for Arcee's without consequence.

    Everything was because of him.

    Finally the tears came, hot and stinging against the cold of the Nemesis. They ran down his cheek as he tried to suppress the sobs, eventually just giving in and wailing softly into the silence. If he had not been so stupid, or so selfish, then maybe none of this would have happened. The Decepticon's would not be winning.

    His planet would still be safe.

⬵⤁

    "Listen, Arcee . . . I just wanted to say that I'm sorry -"

    "Save it," the two-wheeler snapped harshly, glaring at the Autobot rookie. "If you were truly going to be sorry, you wouldn't have put him in that situation in the first place! You knew he had been captured in the past, and you brought him into danger anyway!!"

    She turned on her heel in the desert sand, fuming in rage. Silence fell between the pair, Arcee taking out a scanner from her subspace. It hummed softly in the presence of the relic's Cybertronian signal, the small amounts of radiation able to be picked up at close range. It lead her to an ancient pyramid, one which had begun to crumble under the test of time.

    Smokescreen continued to remain quiet, instead following the femme and not daring to offer to hold the scanner, just letting her work. There was something brewing under the surface of her armor, and he was afraid that one more word would have her blades at his neck. The rookie would never admit he feared Arcee, especially since he had virtually every advantage over her, however he did everything possible to not invoke her wrath.

    The tunnels of the ancient temple were large enough for even Smokescreen to crawl and walk through unbothered, his doorwings only occasionally brushing against the sandstone. All around them were ancient carvings and paintings, Arcee brushing past a mural depicting an object which looked Cybertronian in nature. It was strange, though, as it looking nothing like any of the other relics - it appeared to be something simple, like a key. Maybe it was a knife. Regardless, whatever it was the humans were worshiping it as if it came from their gods.

    Smokescreen briefly wondered just how much of Earth religion was actually based around the Cybertronians.

    The scanner began to beep louder and faster the further they got into the cave, Arcee eventually pausing as it trilled wildly at her. Without much hesitation she pried a stone from an area in the wall, taking out the exact object that was depicted in the murals. She frowned a little.

    "Strange," Smokescreen said aloud. "What do you think it is?"

    "I can't tell," she said shortly as she tilted it back and forth, eventually storing the scanner back into her subspace whilst she held the relic. Without much ceremony she brushed past him again, the experienced saboteur able to wind her way through the dark and dreary tunnels without needing to check and recheck her navigational systems. Smokescreen just followed behind like an obedient puppy not wanting to be kicked.

    They were greeted by the dry desert air, the temperature dropping a few degrees as they left the confines of the pyramid. The black night sky twinkled with stars, yet it was not these things which caught the Autobot's attention.

    Arcee's armor flared as the intimidating form of Megatron made himself known, the moonlight caressing his wicked curves and making him all the more terrifying. At his side was the familiar frame of Ratchet, the dictator resting a servo on his helm. The medic seemed to be in pain, his optics squeezed shut and his frame was tremoring.

    "Greetings, Autobots," he hissed. His left arm shifted as he adjusted the weight within it, Smokescreen's spark stuttering in its chassis. The tyrant had Optimus' arm attached, the appendage gripping the glowing Star Saber. "I was beginning to wonder if you had perished."

    "Ratchet," Arcee took a step forward, freezing when the Star Saber's glow brightened just a touch. It was her only warning to choose her next actions wisely. "Megatron, what have you done?"

    "I have given myself every opportunity to gain the advantage," he said smoothly, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Which Optimus Prime so generously gave to me."

    "Don't worry, Ratchet, we're going to get that creep's hands off of you!" Smokescreen charged forward, completely ignoring Arcee's cry of warning.

    In response Megatron activated the Star Saber, the tyrant thrusting a wave of energy across the sand and taking both Autobots by surprise. Smokescreen caught the brunt of the blast, Arcee only helpless to watch as he was flung into the same pyramid they had exited from. She was unable to see the aftermath as the rest of the wave slammed into her, throwing her back and forcing her to drop the relic.

    "Ar - ahh!" Ratchet reached out only to fall to his knees, Megatron's optics flashing purple as the medic writhed in agony. Ignoring his prisoner's cries the dictator walked forward and claimed his prize, picking up the relic and giving it a thorough once-over. Arcee managed to rise to her feet, anger buzzing through her system. She saw the collapsed pyramid, tons of heavy rock and sand crushing whatever was below it.

    Smokescreen was most certainly dead. Ratchet was a prisoner, forced to watch his team members be torn apart one by one. And Jack was alive, but this monster had dared to lay a hand on her charge. She would destroy him.

    Megatron made the mistake of letting her under his guard, having believed the femme to be beaten. Arcee used this to her advantage, showing no mercy.

    Deploying her blades the femme screamed in anger, leaping forward and bringing them down into Megatron's chest. The warlord wisely jerked back, his reflexes sound enough to only allow for her to carve shallow wounds. His free servo came up and he made to grab her, Arcee fast enough to duck under him again.

    Rolling in the sand she rushed forward again, still at a disadvantage in the ever-shifting sand. This time Megatron was ready, turning before she could attack the blind spot on his back and thrusting the Star Saber at her. Arcee was quick, dodging the new wave of energy and aiming her blades for the delicate seams of his hips.

    She was batted away by his clawed servo, her body thrown to the side. Twisting with years of combat experience she landed on her pedes, muscles coiling in preparation to release another burst of rage at the monster. Out of nowhere she was tackled from the side, going down into the sand. With surprising strength from the small Cybertronian, combined with the momentum of their fall, she planted her pedes firmly on the aggressor and pushed them up and over her helm. Orange and white flashed across her optics, an all too clear indicator of who had attacked her.

    Ratchet grunted as he rolled up to his pedes and whirling around with amazing speed for a mech of his age and build. Arcee tensed as vicious purple optics glared at her, Ratchet sporting an expression of pure hate that she had never seen on him, at least directed her way.

    Megatron laughed in delight, pulling her attention to him very briefly. His optics were a bright violet, indicative of him exerting his control over the medic. She glared at the dictator, taking a few steps back to make sure the both of them were in her line of sight.

    "A valiant effort, Autobot," he mocked, grinning savagely. "But it is two against one. And I doubt you are willing to harm your former medic."

    She growled in frustration, but he was right. Two versus one was not a situation she was unfamiliar with, but this was against Megatron and a mech she was not willing to hurt. She would never be able to forgive herself if she maimed or killed  Ratchet.

    The morbid thought of ending his misery crossed her processor, but she quickly pushed it away. If Rafael could be cured of Dark Energon poisoning, then surely Ratchet could as well. He was not completely lost yet. And though he endured intense torture . . . he could heal from that too. She was not going to give up on him.

    "Let him go, Megatron," she snapped back, still in her battle stance. "Just let him and Jack go. You've won."

    "I've only won once Optimus Prime is dead," Megatron snarled back at her, the madman fixated on only one goal. At his oldest friend's name Ratchet flinched, a shudder going through his entire frame before it went still again. Arcee could have sworn she saw his optics flicker blue for the barest of moments, then succumb once more.

    Megatrons claws curled around the relic. "You are outnumbered, femme. If you surrender now, I will allow you to return to your pathetic base. Should Optimus Prime truly want this relic, or your medic, he may fight for them."

    Arcee stared at him, wondering if he was being serious. When he did not burst into laughter, and instead continued to give her his intense attention, she dropped her arms. The fight seemed to drain out of her, realizing what would happen if she asked Optimus to battle. He would die. And that would be two Autobots dead in less than an hour.

    The war would be lost.

    "And if I refuse?" She asked.

    Megatron just grinned. "Then you will die. And your human pet will pay for your insolence."

    That was it, his entire hand. Arcee could certainly call his bluff, but rarely did the lord of the Decepticons truly bluff. He lied, yes, schemed and twisted even his own words, but bluffing was not really his style. That was more of Starscream's play, which kind of explained everything about that coward.

    Once again, death was not an option. The Autobots needed her, Jack needed her. She was stuck in a bind.

    As she hesitated, Megatron waved a servo, Ratchet straightening and walking over to his master. His strides were robotic in motion, the medic still trying to resist even at this time.

    "I suppose you don't have any interest in attempting to wrest the relic or your medic from me, so our business is done here," he sounded dismissive, as if she was just an inconvenience to him. "It is only a matter of time before I lure Optimus Prime from his hiding place. Until then . . . I will send Jack your regards."

    "No!" She begged, stopping the tyrant in his tracks. "Please, let me speak with Optimus first."

    At those words Megatron grinned, pleased with her answer. With a dismissive wave of his servo, he sent her off. "Go, femme. You have limited time."

    Arcee took several steps back, gazing at Ratchet. She wanted to tell him sorry, or apologize for leaving him again, but surely Optimus would know what to do. He would know how to save him.

    Calling for a Groundbridge she stepped through, leaving Megatron alone with her friend. As soon as she was gone the tyrant looked over the relic, questioning its use before he threw it to the ground with a laugh. Clawed digits touched the top of Ratchet's helm, stroking it absentmindedly.

    As he relaxed his hold on the medic a small, pathetic whimper escaped Ratchet, his frame shuddering again.

    "Just take the relic and go," he murmured, his spark twisting in its chassis. "Please, don't hurt Optimus."

    "That is not your bargain to make," his master retorted, tracing around the orange piece of his helm. "Should Optimus refuse to fight, then we will return to the Nemesis. But he knows what price will be paid."

    "I won't let you."

    "You will," Megatron did not even bother to punish him for his snap, taking personal pleasure in Ratchet's misery. "And I will make you watch."