CHAPTER EIGHT
Stop.
It was his last line of defense. Nothing else he could say to himself- to Scourge- would work.
Please stop.
He was numb to the entire world. He could barely hear the cries of the Decepticons he was slaughtering and the Wreckers who were trying to save him.
Please stop.
He could feel drowsiness taking over him. Any minute now, he would fall asleep for good and Scourge would be completely in control of his body. There was no use in fighting back.
So you admit that you're giving up?
Orion Pax shot awake. He could not tell where he was, but it certainly wasn't Taros VII. In fact, it wasn't really anywhere; just a barren field of white. As he got up to his feet, he saw that he was in his old body- before becoming Scourge, before the incident on Zull- with the red and blue color scheme and lack of mouthplate. Then, recalling the voice that had awoken to, he turned around to see a complete duplicate of himself.
Well, not a complete duplicate.
The color scheme was there. Elements of his design- window chest, grill stomach- were there. But the duplicate seemed to be bigger and more armored, and his mouth was concealed by a faceplate. It was basically a replica of the changes Remedy had made to him after Zull.
But when Orion looked into the doppelganger's optics, he saw a hint of wisdom and bitter experience, and when the duplicate spoke again, his voice was deeper and almost sullen.
"If you give up, that means he's won."
"Who?" Orion asked. "Scourge?"
The doppelganger shook his head. "Megatron. He's the one who did this to you. He's the one who twisted you to his will and changed you into the monstrosity that's now tearing apart your allies- both former and current."
Orion lowered his head. "He didn't just change me. He created a dual persona- Scourge- and we've been vying over the same body ever since."
"So you're just going to give up and let him have it? Why?"
When Orion did not respond, keeping his gaze to the ground, the duplicate grabbed his chin and forced him to look up. "Why?"
Orion sighed. "Because he's stronger than me. I keep trying to force him our, or to restrain him... but nothing works."
"Then you aren't trying hard enough," the double said sternly. "You had the body before him; what gives him the right to take over?"
Orion did not answer. He knew that his older self was right.
Suddenly, the doppelganger began to fade away, along with the blank landscape. The last thing he heard before returning to reality was: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Orion Pax. Including you."
* * *
Everything had come to a stop.
In front of Scourge were the Decepticons, many of them dead, others cowering behind large rocks. Behind him were the fifty-or-less Wreckers poised to attack him while he was distracted. But none of that concerned him. What did was the voice in his head.
Get out.
It was the voice of Orion Pax, his other, previous, weaker self. But something about it was different....
Get out.
It was a command this time, not a pathetic plea like before. Scourge tried to ignore it, but it insisted.
Get out. This is my body.
"Wrong," Scourge snarled. "Megatron designed me to suit your new upgrade. I'm in control here."
No, you're not. You're not anything.
Scourge blinked, unsure on how to respond.
You're just a virus. You don't belong here.
His spark began to pulse with anger... only to realize that it was no longer his spark.
You are nothing.
The thunder of those words struck Scourge like a hammer on a nail and everything went dark.
* * *
It was over.
From his 'haven' behind a large rock, Deadlock watched as Scourge finally ceased his mad carnage and collapsed to the ground, going offline. The Wreckers moved instantly, restraining the comatose Decepticon with stasis cuffs and mode locks before directing their attention to Turmoil and his crew.
"So, Turmoil," Impactor said. "What say we call it a draw?"
Turmoil glanced back and forth from the Wreckers to his own troops. Less than a dozen of them remained, the rest having fallen to Scourge's frenzy. Finally, the commander said, "Call it whatever you like."
With that, Turmoil and his remaining crew headed for the ship... all save for Deadlock.
For he had suddenly found himself on the business end of a stun rifle.
* * *
"I was going to kill him."
"I know," Devcon said as he stored away his stun rifle. "Which is why I had to stop you."
Her optics flaring in rage, Windblade looked from the unconscious Deadlock to the Autobot bounty hunter. "He killed Yoketron."
"I know."
"And you're just going to let him live?"
"Think about it." Devcon placed a hand on her shoulder. "Would Yoketron have wanted it that way? For you to mercilessly kill a Decepticon?"
"No, but it would have been the right thing to do."
Devcon raised an eyebrow. "Would it? If you'd died in his place, would you expect Yoketron to avenge you like you him?"
Windblade did not answer.
The Autobot bounty hunter moved away from her and knelt down to restrain Deadlock. "The path of vengeance may be paved with solace," he said. "But it always ends with a brink. Go to fast and you'll fall over that brink... and nothing will be able to bring you back up."
"Sounds like one of Yoketron's maxims," Windblade muttered.
"Yes, it is. One you clearly chose to ignore." Rising to his feet, Devcon picked up Deadlock and slung the unconscious Decepticon over his shoulder. "Come on. Let's follow the Wreckers back to Cybertron. We could always use another prisoner of war for an exchange."
As Windblade followed him back to his ship, she stared at the ground almost the entire way. Because whenever she glanced up at the starry sky, she could have sworn she saw an outline of Yoketron's solemn face, clearly displeased with her....
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