FIGHTING YOU

"Wouldn't let it show,"

⬵⤁

 Cyclonus turned as he heard the doors to Darkmount's throne room swish apart, his back struts straightening as he beheld his master. Megatron stalked into the room, Cyclonus bowing at the hips as he approached. He caught sight of the tyrant's orange and white pet slinking in behind him, armor prickling just the slightest. He despised Autobots, and the most loyal of them all was no exception, however Megatron had somehow managed to heel the medic and train him to respond to his beck and call.

"My lord, I did not expect -"

"You should have," Megatron snarled, watching in distaste as Cyclonus clamped his armor down. The coward. "Or shall I remind you of the human victory in sector AZ273, which you so conveniently forgot to report?"

The Decepticon's optics widened, and he straightened again to look his master in the optics. A coward he was, yet unlike Starscream, he tried to hide it. "My lord . . . I was going to inform you of the loss once Soundwave produced a plan for a counterattack. It would be unprofessional of me to not at least provide a solution -"

Once again, he was cut off, Cyclonus receiving the berating he deserved. "It is imperative that both parties, on Cybertron and Earth, have current updates and unfiltered communications. A lack of a report informs me that Darkmount has been compromised, and I must send my forces to rectify the matter. As pathetic as he was, even Starscream understood such a concept."

Cyclonus could not help his grimace, glancing over at Ratchet. The medic stared at him with sickly purple optics, his stiff expression matching his master's mood. Displeasure.

"I understand, my lord. It was my mistake," he bowed again, daring to be vulnerable in front of the fuming Megatron.

"Do not ever think you can sneak something by me again. Soundwave is always watching, always listening, and he has no qualms about informing me you need replaced."

His subordinate nodded, purple armor flashing in the sunlight of the organic planet. Likely his replacement would be Dreadwing, who served as an extension of Megatron's ruling over Cybertron which could easily transfer to Earth and work from there. The loyal servant was efficient, and certainly more trustworthy than Cyclonus. Still, the mech was not opposed to a position of such immense power. He was given command of a nearly limitless army to nullify all human resistance, and permission to destroy what was necessary to cow the insects into submission.

That was power Cyclonus was reluctant to give up, but would relinquish if lord Megatron demanded it.

"I fully understand, my liege," he said, his gaze still towards the ground.

Megatron hardly acknowledged the phrase with satisfaction, instead moving his gaze from his subordinate to the planet's horizon. He scanned it, as if looking for something, allowing silence to settle on for a few seconds before speaking again. "Report to me on the events of AZ273."

"The humans attacked at the 2300 hour of this planet's day," Cyclonus spoke without hesitation, giving his lord the full report. "They managed to sneak past the barriers and perimeter scouts to plant energon bombs. What little videofeed Soundwave was able to achieve showed that there was a distraction on one side of the camp, likely an Autobot attack, that drew most of the camp's forces toward them. The humans then snuck in and planted the explosives. They waited for approximately thirty kliks before detonating the devices - the dust had since settled."

"And how is it that Soundwave had limited videofeed?" Megatron asked, slightly accusatory.

"The hacker. The human hacker," Cyclonus said, somewhat bitter. Soundwave was the best Cybertronian in terms of technological advancement and intellect, however it was a mere human that could slip under their radar and best the mech.

"Yes. We have had many issues with him in the past," Megatron growled softly. He felt a slight pulse as Ratchet recognized they were speaking of Rafael, but the dictator banished any thought of cherishment.

Cyclonus understood now, why it took so very long for Megatron to seize a hold on a technologically inferior planet. "For small creatures, the humans appear to be a better match than I estimated. Even with their limited resources and few allies."

"The Autobot forces are scattered, but effective in small numbers," Megatron spoke of them freely in front of his pet, who seemed unfazed. Over the past three Earth years, Cyclonus had noticed Ratchet become less and less sensitized to the perils of his former team members. Megatron had fully exerted his will on the medic. "I understand that they have at least two new additions which would have made such a distraction possible."

"Jazz and Mirage," Cyclonus confirmed. "They arrived nearly two Earth months ago."

"And more will continue to come, should you allow these insects to continue to score victories," Megatron said stiffly. "Which is why it is imperative that you update me, and the rest of the Decepticon faction, on the happenings of Earth."

Cyclonus nodded, a little perturbed by the constant reminder of his mistake. He had attempted to amend the situation by sending Soundwave on a mission to gather information from one of the many human pilots that flew across "Autobot" airspace. He had also done it in an attempt to prevent the mech from reporting to his master just yet, but it appeared that Soundwave had beaten him to the punch.

And while the espionage group had managed to destroy two of the human's aircrafts, they failed in their task. Starscream had become involved, but for some reason Soundwave preferred to flee over engage - and possibly defeat - the Air Commander. The silent communications officer hardly made any sense, but if Cyclonus questioned him he was certain Megatron would side with the third in command - regardless of rank or who was actually correct.

"I will do so, my lord," he assured him. "I will continue with Decepticon advances in this continent and energon extraction in the northernmost continent. Negotiations with the affected areas are going . . . smoothly."

Finally, Megatron gave the slightest bit of satisfactory acknowledgement. "Excellent. I would like to be present for your next negotiatory meeting. I understand that they can be difficult to dissuade."

"You intend to stay on Earth?" Cyclonus could not help but ask, surprised. Rarely did Megatron bother with his presence on this planet anymore, now that Cybertron was in dire need of a ruler.

"Temporarily. Now that your honesty has been called into question, I find it necessary to monitor some activities," the growl was all too clear.

"Understandable, my liege," was all the mech could truly say, not wanting to make an improper step and further give Megatron an excuse to execute or displace him. "I would be more than happy to give you a tour of our new energon mines as well, and update you on their progress."

Megatron appeared agreeable with the plan, the tyrant's servos clasped behind his back. "Prepare the mines for inspection, then. Alert me when all is ready."

Cyclonus knew better than to test his master's patience, standing straight at attention and nodding firmly. "As you command, my lord." Without hesitation he bowed and then left his master, disappearing into the bowels of Darkmount to inform Soundwave of their intended travels, and contact the mines to be prepared for their master's presence.

Megatron watched the subordinate mech leave, sliding his gaze to the quiet third party in the room. Ratchet had his back to the silver titan, standing near the edge of Darkmount as he gazed across the desert. His purple optics reflected the bright sun, and they moved as if in search of something.

For the past three Earth years Ratchet had continued to undergo Megatron's psychological torment, pressed and molded until he was convinced that his only salvation was in the tyrant. He no longer had any faith in his former Autobot comrades. Punishment was given when the medic even thought of any compassion for them, and he was showered with rewards for supporting the Decepticon cause. Still, some things would not quite die down, such as the medic occasionally thinking of his human companions. No matter how much the warlord attempted to smother it, Rafael Esquivel still held a special place in Ratchet's old spark, and he did occasionally worry about Jack Darby. Thus, Megatron elected to just keep the feelings in check. He was certain the former Autobot had already been through enough - he was his pet, and was guaranteed to remain at his side for all time.

Besides, it did not hurt to give him some free will. After all, what he most admired about the medic were his amusing little thoughts and opinions, for which he allowed the occasional voicing of.

Ratchet looked out at Jasper, Nevada, the small town obviously vacant and decrepit even from this view. On the few times he had gone into the town to pick up Rafael in the past, he had not been impressed. But now, the view was sad, and for a moment he remembered what the Decepticons did.

No . . . They rebuild.

"The old must be destroyed for the new to be reborn," Megatron unabashedly read his thoughts, placing a clawed servo on his shoulder. "It is one aspect of change that many abhor. No matter how necessary it truly is."

"But does it require the cost of innocent lives?" Ratchet asked quietly.

Just like before he felt the weight of Megatron's will wrap around him, the tyrant ensuring his dominating consciousness aligned with that of Ratchet's stubborn mind.

"They are unavoidable tragedies," he said, moving to stroke the back of his helm."The natives of this planet are resistant, as I am sure their pride will not let them accept the presence of a superior species. But soon they will realize that their resistance is futile. The Autobots are only in the United States; that leaves the rest of the world against them."

Ratchet saw the logic in his statement. Of course, the Autobots could keep the fight alive in the small space they occupy, but Earth was a massive planet. Cyclonus was already reaching out to the other governments of the planet, striking deals and generating debts that he would surely collect later. The Asian continent was already becoming more swayed with every day, despite protestors on the streets and refugees attempting to flee their countries. The Decepticon army was picking up on production, and once that was in place, Megatron could drain entire planets and moons of their resources to create a massive, unstoppable force to keep both Cybertron and Earth heeled.

There were still many more Earth years yet before such a dream could come to fruition, but until then . . . they would manage the rebellion as best they could.

"You need not be present for this meeting," Megatron said finally. "I merely brought you along under the impression you would like to see Earth again. Should you wish to return to Cybertron and continue your research, I will not stop you."

The medic was no fool. Megatron was testing his loyalties, seeing if returning to Earth would jolt the medic. But Ratchet was far too gone now. Consumed by the corruptive power of Dark Energon and Megatron's seductive words, he could no longer align himself with the Autobot cause. That, and . . .

Smokescreen had been the first. He was not the last.

"I would like to remain on Earth for some time," the medic confessed. "I have some . . . fond memories here."

The warlord merely hummed his concession, his claws leaving the medics helm. "Remain at Darkmount, or otherwise take an escort. I do not want the Autobots to stage a 'rescue'."

"Yes, my lord," Ratchet replied obediently. And he meant it, too - he would not allow for capture.

He was far too valuable for that.

⬵⤁

Jack practically dragged his feet back to base, exhaustion causing his burning muscles to twitch. Epps had the brilliant idea to give the restless boy as much gear as he could possibly carry, affectionately calling him "Ruck Boy" throughout the whole trip. The soldier's idea paid off, as Jack could think of nothing better to do than sleep away the rest of the morning. The patrol had been uneventful, so it was a nasty surprise when they arrived to a base bustling with panicked energy.

"Scramble all communication lines, stat!" Someone shouted from the hub. "We need access to new channels, and make sure the chatter ain't obviously fake!"

"We've deleted all tracing data and going dark, does base Uniform Tango 408109 have all precautions in place?"

"What the -" Epps snatched a private that was attempting to scramble past them, jerking him over. "You! What is going on here?!"

"We're doing a total shutdown of all forces, Commander Starscream's orders," the young man stammered, the news jolting some energy back into Jack's veins. "There was an attack in secured Charlie-Oscar airspace. Two Raptors were downed and we lost one of the pilots. They think Soundwave hijacked and downloaded information from the other's blackbox."

Epps swore, letting him go. "How's the other pilot?"

"She's okay. Banged up and getting treated right now. Starscream managed to intervene in time to chase the 'cons away and get the pilot out."

Jack sucked in a breath, wracking his brain to remember who was on patrol in the Colorado area. Frustratingly he was still tired, his mind just wanting to rest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rafael run past, the young boy skipping the steps up to his computer hub. He looked like he had just been roused from bed, his glasses skewed and hair a mess. Likely Starscream had recruited his help to see what kind of damage had been done.

Jazz was right behind the boy, the head of Special Operations chattering something in Spanish to the human. Rafael preferred the language when there was an emergency, which required a much faster speaking pace than English. Despite Jazz and Miko having more in common in terms of immersing themselves in culture, he and Rafael grew the closest. He sort of reminded Jack of Bumblebee - fast, and ready to do whatever job was most required of him.

According to Wheeljack, Jazz had been one of Optimus' second-in-commands on Cybertron, tasked with the most dangerous espionage missions. It meant he was not only skilled in combat, but he knew a thing or two about Decepticon tactics and patterns.

Despite the rough start, Jazz quickly became Starscream's appointed SIC; it made sense, considering they were both quite capable combatants and had invaluable intel on the enemy.

With Jazz came one of his best proteges, Mirage. Jack still did not know how to feel about the mech, as his ability to disappear and create light copies of himself made him uneasy. Mirage was surprised, to say the least, when the human had inquired if he was a Point-One Percenter, which was true and what gave him the abilities he currently possessed. Miko thought it was totally cool, and much to Bulkhead's dismay she tried to encourage Mirage to take her out on patrols. The mech was wise, however, and did refuse.

Speaking of Miko . . .

"Jack!" She ran across the floor, seemingly oblivious to the chaos that was around her. She was still dressed in leggings and combat boots, however now her various band shirts were accompanied by a camouflage-green fatigue jacket. "I woke up and you were nowhere to be found! Then Starscream came back with Sierra all beat up and talking about how there was an attack, and you were out on patrol and possibly in danger -"

"Sierra was the pilot?" He asked, his muddled brain latching onto the revelation and he felt sick. "Is she okay? I heard she was getting patched up."

"Dude, I'm worried about you!" Miko huffed in annoyance. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm just tired," he said, a little irritated. "I went on patrol."

"You were supposed to be sleeping," She accused, walking with him towards a series of storage lockers and units, helping him shed all of the extra weight Epps had put on his back. "Especially after going out on that super-dangerous mission. Your mom was freaked."

"I've been in more dangerous situations," he pointed out, now trying to rub the sleeping feeling from his eyes. "And I couldn't sleep. So Starscream sent me out on patrol."

Miko snorted. "Then he's gonna get an earful from June. Then probably Agent Fowler too."

"It's not like he hasn't heard it before," Jack did crack a small smile at that. His mother was constantly worried for him, and she did not quite understand when Jack was sent on small guerilla missions. Every time resulted in her giving Starscream a piece of her mind, but by then the Seeker was used to it; he heard complaints from parents and guardians all the time as he sent their children off to war.

But Jack, and several others, were now adults. If they had not been secretly signing up before they were ready, then they were openly volunteering now. Raf was not one of them, but he was also only fifteen, and much more useful at his computers.

And it was not like Starscream was sitting behind the safety of the secret base; he participated in air battles all the time. And Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Jazz, and Mirage had their fair share of combat. Everyone was fighting if they were capable and ready.

But like every war, there were casualties.

"Who was the pilot?" Jack asked softly. "Who was lost?"

Miko frowned a little. "A guy who was a year ahead of you. Jerry? Call sign Osiris. Nobody we really know."

Jack nodded, unable to help but feel a little relief. Death was difficult, however it was easier when it was someone they did not truly know.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Miko poked his shoulder with a finger, Jack realizing he had started leaning against the locker. "You look exhausted. Let's get you to bed."

"I'm fine," he mumbled, though he was well aware by now how obvious his exhaustion truly was. His eyes were heavy, and though a million worries plagued his mind . . . he did just want to sleep.

Miko escorted him back to his bunk, where he collapsed with little ceremony, closing his eyes.

"I'll let Sierra know you asked about her," she offered. "Just get some sleep for now."

"Thanks," he replied, though at that point he could not quite remember what she said. Within moments he was asleep, and completely dead to the world around him.