CHAPTER TWO
"It's a simple enough proposal."
Tarn stared through the slits of his mask at the three figures standing before him. The one addressing him was his former teacher Shockwave, identifiable by his purple armor and singular optic. To his left was Soundwave, sporting a sleeker, more all-terrain form than he was generally known for. Both Decepticons, last Tarn knew, had perished not too long ago. Of course, he hadn't been present for either of their deaths, so who was he to assume?
Then there was the large, hulking mech who stood behind the pair, his face concealed by a battle mask. He believed Shockwave had identified the bot to be the Fallen, otherwise known as Megatronus. Tarn refused to believe that; the Fallen was no more real than the Primes he was alleged to have betrayed.
Deathsaurus, on the other hand, was staring in awe at the pretender Prime. Tarn wasn't surprised; during the Silver Age, Deathsaurus had been a warlord of the Destrons, a faction made from tribes that still refused to acknowledge the rule of Nova Prime. While Deathsaurus had not been a Darklander, he still worshiped Megatronus for his close friendship with his tribe's own Prime. Right no, Deathsaurus looked ready to drop to his knees in reverence.
It was disgusting. Had he known a warlord as decorated as Deathsaurus subjected himself to others so easily, Tarn would have sought an alliance elsewhere.
"The Decepticons are on the verge of fading away," Shockwave was saying. "Megatron has renounced his ideals. Many Decepticons have ceased fire and are living among the Autobots in peace."
"Forget them," Tarn said indignantly. "Those who do not uphold the Decepticon vision are not worthy of recognition."
"Ah, a patriot," the Fallen remarked, his voice old and grating. "Megatron must be so proud."
"Don't you dare speak that name!" Tarn snapped, glaring daggers at the alleged Prime. "He has betrayed the Decepticon Empire! Betrayed everything we've built!"
The Fallen chuckled. "I guess we have more than just a name in common."
Tarn's hands rolled into fists. "Don't flatter yourself. Megatron took on his name to instill fear, not out of any foolish belief."
"I'm amused that you think I care."
Tarn shifted his optics to Shockwave. "Do you really expect us to pledge our loyalty to him?"
"It's not a question of loyalty, Tarn," the cyclopian Decepticon replied. "It's simply a matter of his goals advancing ours. An alliance would be beneficial to all parties involved."
"I should clarify that I could easily do without any of you," the Fallen said. "Just so you know."
Tarn narrowed his optics. "I remain unconvinced."
Deathsaurus stepped forward. "You and your band are free to forge your own paths," he said to Tarn. "I, on the other hand, pledge my forces to you, Megatronus."
Tarn stared at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious. We had a deal!"
"A deal which has done nothing for either of us," Deathsaurus replied. "I have faith that Megatronus will produce results."
"Stop calling him that!" Tarn roared. "He is not worthy of the name!"
The Fallen laughed. "I'm not worthy of any name, according to those who bestowed me my moniker. But you have a point there; 'Megatronus' was never my true name."
"I don't care if your true name is Trannis; I refuse to acknowledge your authority!"
"A shame." The Fallen looked over to Deathsaurus. "Are you in command of this vessel?"
"Yes, my liege," the warlord replied.
"So you have every power necessary to send this Tarn and his followers out the airlock, correct?"
Before Deathsaurus could answer, Tarn raised his fusion cannon at him. "Don't you dare," he hissed.
Deathsaurus smirked. "Do you honestly think I'm intimidated by you, Tarn?"
"I've killed many a warlord. You're hardly the first."
"This is why the Decepticons are failing," Soundwave lamented, his speech drawing the attention of all present. "We fight each other as much as we fight the Autobots. If we didn't, we would have won the war centuries ago."
"Thank you, someone else who gets it." Deathsaurus glanced back at Tarn. "You won't accomplish anything by killing me. Do so, and you'll have all my men to worry about."
"Legions have fallen to the D.J.D.," Tarn boasted. "Your troops will pose no threat."
"And me, Tarn?" The Fallen raised his arm so that Tarn was now staring down the barrel of the Requiem Blaster. "Do you see me as a threat?"
Tarn stared at the masked Prime. "You're a pretender."
"A pretender with a weapon that can bring Titans to their knees. Your point?"
For a pressing moment, neither mech moved, keeping their weapons trained on their respective targets. Eventually, Tarn lowered his arm, still glaring at the Fallen. The ancient Prime smirked as he followed suit.
"How do I have any guarantee that your goals will restore our empire to glory?" Tarn asked.
The Fallen chuckled. "My goal is not to restore your empire but Cybertron itself. How that serves you is none of my concern. Like I said, I don't need any of you to accomplish my plans."
At this, Tarn glanced at Shockwave, who simply inclined his head. Instead, it was Soundwave who spoke.
"What you must understand, Tarn, is that there are greater powers at work. The Fallen is the only one of those powers whose vision aligns with our own. If we have any hope of restoring our glory, the Fallen's way is our only chance."
"How nice of you to say so, Logos," the Fallen commented. "Now I see why the other doted on you."
Soundwave tensed but did not rise to the Prime's taunt.
Tarn exchanged a glance with Deathsaurus before returning his attention to the trio. With a sigh of defeat, the D.J.D. leader crossed his arms.
"Fine. We'll work with you. But only for the Decepticon Empire, not for this... pretender."
Shockwave nodded. "Good. Now we can quickly move to our next item on the agenda."
"And that would be...?"
"We are to locate the Void Scepter," Soundwave said. "We believe it is--"
"I'm sorry," Tarn interrupted. "Locate the what?"
"The Void Scepter," Deathsaurus murmured. "It was used by Mortilus to summon the Titan Trypticon during his clash with the Guiding Hand."
"Oh, for crying out...." Tarn ran a servo down his faceplate, sighing in exasperation. "This had better all be worth it."
"Oh, it should be," the Fallen said. "Fortunately, I already know where the Scepter should be located."
Deathsaurus inclined his head. "And that is?"
"Some planet in the Neutral Territories, far beyond the borders of any intergalactic faction. The organic natives, simple-minded as they are, give it the very descriptive name... of Earth."
* * *
Elsewhere on Deathsaurus' vessel, Nitro Zeus was having the time of his life.
The past month had been life-threateningly boring. All this talk about 'revenge' and 'agendas' made his head spin. He hadn't even asked to be pulled into all of this (although it certainly beat floating around in space).
But now? He was living the dream! In all his years with the Decepticons, he had never been on a Warworld before. He had heard of them, of course, but ever since most of the fleet was wiped out by Black Shadow, they had become the thing of legends. Legends that failed to do them justice.
No other warship in the Decepticon fleet had this wide a selection of energon, or had chairs softer than a Brobdingnag cat, or attractive bots that fawned over him as he regaled them with life's stories.
He didn't care if Deathsaurus joined the Fallen or not. He was staying here.
"So why do they call you Nitro Zeus?" cooed a white and teal Decepticon (Lyzack, was it?), her arms draped around Nitro's shoulders.
He chuckled. "Honestly? So that people didn't confuse me with that Velocitron guy. He had just won the Speedia when I was making the rounds."
"Ah, who cares about those lubed-up losers!" said some orange mech (Jack-Knife?). "That Nitro didn't body-slam Springer from 250 feet, did he?"
"Hey now, some of my best friends are from Velocitron!" Nitro took a swig of Vixco, his seventeenth glass so far. "Okay, not really. But still, you gotta admit... Nitro Zeus sounds so much cooler."
"It sure does!" roared a blue and white 'Con. "It's even better than Killbison!"
"Oi!" snapped a gold and white mech with the same body-type. "Why don't you shove that drill o' yours up your afterburner, slag-licker."
"Now, now," Nitro Zeus said, waving his hand. "It ain't a contest. We can all have cool names. In fact, we should form a club!"
"Hell yeah!" A purple and green bot pumped his fist in the air. "That would be so awesome! It would be Nitro Zeus, Killbison, Deathcobra...."
"Oh, don't forget Sinnertwin!" called out another Decepticon. "And Ruination!"
"And Slayride!" offered another. "Wait, he's dead, isn't he?"
"Those are all great names," Nitro Zeus said. "But I feel that, as a community, we should--"
"Thunderwing!"
Nitro blinked. "Uh... isn't he dead, too?"
"No, look!" Everyone turned to see a red 'Con with wide shoulder pads standing near the wall. Burned onto it, as if with some kind of torch, was a symbol that very much resembled the visage of the long-dead Decepticon scientist. Below it, in crudely drawn Cybertronix, was the phrase Adapt. Evolve. Survive.
Nitro Zeus sunk lower into his chair, pretending to be less unsettled than he actually was. "I mean... he can join too if he wants...."
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