Chapter Text
“What do you mean he’s vanished?” Megaton snarled, glaring down at the scout currently reporting.
The Decepticon winced away from his leader before straightening out. Although Megatron was intimidating, he had taught his forces not to shrink from authority. “I don’t know how else to say it, sir. The raid on his estate was successful. The Decepticon’s now command this province. However, when we stormed the tower, there was no sign of Senator Proteus.”
Megatron sneered, looking away from the scout and back up at the grand structure in front of them. The constant rage that simmered in Megatron’s spark threatened to bubble over.
There were many perks that came with being a member of the Senate. That included the rights to land. Over the centi-vorns, Cybertron’s population has increased at a phenomenal rate. The city-states have become overcrowded, building up, down, and out, desperate to try to keep a stable flow of mecha.
This meant most of Cybertron’s wilds have been desecrated, nothing had been untouched. The rolling plains and roadways between city-states have dwindled. Most mecha had no idea what a ‘countryside’ or village meant anymore.
However, that didn’t make these peaceful, quiet places distinct. Cybertron’s elite saw what luxury these estates were and started handing them out to their good, hard-working Senators. They were their home away from home.
Senator Proteus had used his land to create a small, picturesque village. Slaves and servants alike kept the small tower and sprawling cottage-like housing and businesses around it functioning. He and his close friends could whisk away to the province whenever the stresses of running Cybertron got to them. It was a good two-hour shuttle ride away from true civilization. The province was almost completely surrounded by the Titan’s Graveyard, a network of spiraling mountains that divided Vos and Kaon. Owning this land also gave Proteus rights to some of the energon mines within the mountain range.
When the Decepticon’s found out about Proteus retreating to his vacation home, Megatron saw an opportunity. This rebellion had grown. No longer could Cybertron’s functionalism elite ignore them. The Senate would have to start rethinking how they wanted to handle these new ‘terrorists'.
Except they continued to brush away and ignore the flourishing unrest. If the Senate wasn’t willing to take the Decepticon’s on seriously, then they’d face the consequences.
Proteus’ province was ruined by the Decepticon takeover. It wasn’t designed to face an invasion. However, being a Senator, Proteus had guards ready to defend his land. This left the spiraling tower and sprawling village to take massive amounts of destruction. A cycle after the battle had taken place there were still fires burning strong.
“Where’s Commander Breakdown?” Megatron demanded, turning back to the scout.
The smaller Decepticon startled when his leader suddenly turned back to him. “Leading the search for our wayward Senator, sir.”
Megatron let out a hum, turning back to the tower.
“If it pleases you, sir, I could call him back to give you the report himse-”
“No, you did exemplary.” Megatron said easily. The scout seemed to perk up at the compliment. “Continue on with his commands. My forces will aid in the search. Go,” Megatron ordered, looking back at the scout. “I will transmit your results to the rest of the army.”
The scout saluted sharply. “Yes, Lord Megatron!” He said before scattering off.
Once he was gone, Megatron let his sneer fully form on his faceplates, EMF blooming with rage. You consistently serve as a nuisance, Proteus. He thought before unsheathing his sword from his wrist. I cannot wait to put an end to it.
::Soundwave.:: Megatron hailed over comms. ::I want Silicon Valley locked down. Proteus is still at large. Alert Starscream that he might try to seek asylum within his city-state.::
The only reason Proteus even considered leaving the high-cast city of Iacon was because the Senate didn’t believe the Decepticons to be a real threat. He flaunted his leave to his vacation getaway residing just off the conquered Kaon because he didn’t think their cause would dare to actually attack him.
The misplaced confidence would be his downfall. Proteus and his ilk didn’t seem to realize just how far the Decepticon cause spread. Starscream was still able to bring incontinence to their court. They didn’t realize he pledged his loyalty to Megatron’s cause. If Proteus thought he could escape the Decepticon’s wrath by fleeing to Vos, he’d be sorely mistaken.
::Affirmative.:: Soundwave’s monotone voice replied over comm.
::Have Strika’s forces covering the Graveyard as well.:: Megatron declared, referring to the mountain range. ::No one gets in or out until the Senator is found. Continue monitoring radio chatter. We don’t need our victory prematurely revealed.::
Soundwave pinged an acknowledgement before closing their line. With that, Megatron entered the tower. He doubted Proteus actually ever left the building. The coward would need more skill to get past his soldiers.
Continue to hide, you blubbering fool. We will find you in the end. There is nowhere to run.
- - - - - - - - - -
Almost a joor after Megatron had joined the search, a team was able to find a lead.
Megatron stood tall and imposing as some of his troops pried away a hidden door. It was hidden well, with a sturdy security system behind it. They had to call in a hacker to disable the traps and firewalls. Of course, Proteus thought ahead for once. The whole thing went on lock down, making the Decepticons use brute force to get the thing open.
Thankfully, this was a strong suit for many mecha in the cause.
Finally, the doors would open to show a winding maze that traveled deep under the tower, expanding Primus knows how far.
“Attempt to stay in groups.” Megatron ordered. “Send out location pings every other breem. Alert out once if you find anything suspicious.”
Affirmatives were called out before mecha started filtering into the dark, twisting halls. Megatron confidently strolled forward, a couple mecha following him. He’d give a nod of approval anytime a few soldiers had to split off from his group to go down a side hall. The couple dozen personnel that accompanied him soon dwindled down to just two.
Megatron narrowed his optics when they got to a corridor that split into three paths. So far, no one had failed to report in. There were a few false calls, but Megatron would rather that than a failed check in.
“Continue on- cautiously.” Megatron said, turning to each of his soldiers with a severe look. “If you are outnumbered, stay hidden, report, and wait for backup.”
The two mecha nodded for taking off down the side halls.
Not that I expect Proteus to still have any mecha with him. Megatron thought, walking forward. All recorded personnel had been accounted for. All except the slagging Senator himself.
Although Megatron had come across a couple rooms within the maze (most of which held some considerably suspicious materials) it was mostly just the halls. There were some torches lining the way every so often, although most were dark. This left Megatron in the dark, only his biolights shining the way. No matter. Megatron was a miner before he was a gladiator. He had optical mods that let him operate in the dark.
It seemed like the halls would never end. Megatron had just pinged his location for the fiftieth time when he froze. He felt an unfamiliar EMF brush against his own. Megatron almost purged at the obvious distress radiating through it. A mix of hurt/fear/distress/HELP swirled within it.
“Shut up!” A muffled yell declared before a sharp thud sounded. “I’m trying to concentrate! I don’t need a whiny object-former’s miserable field meshing with my own.”
Megatron quietly made his way to the light at the end of the hall. He could see a door that seemed to have jammed, leaving it half open. Megatron brought his arm cannon to standby, sword already unsheathed.
“Of course I get the one glitched weapon-former.” The voice that Megatron finally recognized as Proteus muttered. “Aren’t your kind supposed to be vicious? Not as bad as hand-to-hand weapons- I wasn’t risking one of them turning on me , but you should at least crave to snuff sparks to some degree.”
The distressed field rippled like a whimper, the fear heightening to a sickening degree.
Finally, Megatron made it to the door. He braced against the half closed, slightly warped metal and peered inside.
The grand sight of Senator Proteus standing in a small room was revealed. His vibrant red, blue, and yellow color scheme made Megatron sneer, but then the Decepticon leader caught sight of the other thing in the room. His spark stilled a moment while his battle protocols demanded he act out when he saw the escape pod that laid in front of him. The Senator was meddling with the console it was hooked up to, but he hadn’t yet gotten into the small vehicle.
“Stop that!” Proteus sneered. He raised his servo, and Megatron saw a red and blue painted pistol in his grip. He brought it down hard against the side of the console, making the screen flicker. Pain laced through the object former’s field before it shriveled back into itself. “Finally. It’s bad enough I have to touch one of you, let alone-”
Megatron felt his battle protocols roar to life. He didn’t stop them from taking over. All he could think about was murder/kill/snuff as he snuck up behind Proteus. Megatron’s superior frame jumped on the Senator. The Decepticon leader immediately went for the hand holding the innocent gun-former, trying to get him out of the line of fire.
Proteus yelled out in alarm when he felt something heavy attack him. He seethed up when a foreign field attacked his own with a rage that’d make Unicron proud. Automatically, he tried firing his weapon. Two energon blasts were shot, but it was a foolhardy effort. The mech was behind him, holding his firing arm steady and in front of him. Once the Senator realized his weapon had become ineffective, he started to struggle and yell.
Megatron ignored Proteus’ squirming. He instead focused on his arm, twisting in painfully. Proteus’ shouts turned to shrill screams. Megatron grimaced against the onslaught, but retaliated by crushing the Senator's elbow hinged, almost severing the whole limb.
The yelling was horrendous, truly the Senator was a whimpering, weak whelp. If only Proteus wasn’t so stubborn, he could have kept his arm for another breem or so.
Proteus let go of the gun-former when his elbow was crushed. Although if it was willingly or just his processor losing control over his digits, no one would know. The blue and red mech crashed to the floor. Megatron winced at the noise, but he could do nothing to stop the impact with the Senator wiggling about.
As gently as he could, Megatron nudged the gun-former to slide across the floor. He skidded out of the room, allowing the Decepticon leader enough room to fully deal with his prize.
With more force than probably necessary (who was he kidding, it was totally necessary), Megatron hoisted Proteus up and slammed him against the escape pod. Wrangling his flailing arms behind his back, Megatron held his servos in one of his before bringing his free servo to grasp the Senator’s helm. Without mercy, he slammed Proteus’ faceplates against the pod’s closed doors. Once. Twice. And a third for good measure.
Finally, Proteus had silenced his screams, only staticky whimpers escaped him. Megatron raised his helm slightly before looming over the Senator’s shoulder. He met Proteus’ optics through their reflections in the pod’s tinted glass.
“Congratulations, Senator.” Megatron whispered softly in his audial. Proteus’ vocalizer managed to make a sharp squeal. “We are going to make history tonight. You are going to display Decepticon justice. Right now, you're a rusted canvas, needing to be untainted…”
Megatron removed his servo from Proteus’ helm before slowly wrapping it around his neck. At first, his digits merely sat there, nuzzling neck cabling. Then he gradually started to squeeze, making Proteus squirm in his hold, desperately trying to get free.
“But that’s the thing about rust.” Megatron continued, voice getting even more hushed. “You cannot truly be cleansed of all the impurities… it’s best to just-” Megatron pretended to think for a moment, “ pure society of the infection. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Proteus made a pained negative sound, but Megatron didn’t really care. Instead, he dug his claws into the delicate neck cabling before ripping them away. Proteus’ vocalizer finally gave out completely, only a few staticky bleeps escaping it.
Yellow optics started to dull, irritating Megatron. Was it really that easy to kill a high caste mech? Remembering his sword, Megatron brought his arm back just enough to stab it into Proteus’ side, awakening the mech with sharp pain.
“Now, now, Senator.” Megatron purred. “We aren’t done yet. Afterall, we’re trying to make an example for your peers.” A nasty grin spread across the Decepticon leader’s faceplates, making Proteus’ spark spin with dread.
- - - - - - - - - -
Megatron’s vicious satisfaction dulled when he felt the shaken field of the gun-former brush against his own. Steadying himself against the sudden onslaught of terror, Megatron attempted to quickly bury his energon lust. The little one was likely traumatized enough.
Not even sparing the Senator’s deactivated frame a glance, Megatron pushed it away, letting it tumble to the floor to trickle inner energon all over the place. He left the small room to see where the gun-former’s frame had landed. It was just a few paces from the entrance, shiny blue and red paint reflecting the light coming from the pod’s monitor.
A frown marred Megatron’s faceplates when he realized the gun-former hadn’t transformed. Maybe he’s injured . Megatron tried to reassure himself, but he feared the worst. He hoped the little mech wasn’t slave coded. It would make things messy, especially if he was ordered to stay in alt-mode.
Just the thought made Megatron shudder. Although most object formers’ mecha frames came in all shapes and sizes, they still had to mass shift and stuff their excess away into specialized subspaces no matter their frame size. Megatron couldn’t imagine being compressed for stellar cycles at a time, it would be a pure form of torture he’s not sure he’d wish on his worst enemies.
Well, that’s not true. Megatron thought back to the deactivated frame behind him. Just so they could get a mere taste of the pain they implemented.
Schooling himself, Megatron made sure he was thinking calmly and collectively before flaring his field out. Immediately, the other mech latched onto it. Megatron buried a wince as the gun-former tightly meshed their fields in under a klik. Megatron notes this mech was likely touch starved and allowed him to cling tightly to his EMF.
“You’re okay.” Megatron rumbled, letting his engine come up to an idle. The dual sense of field and vibrations seemed to- not calm the gun-former but center him. “Your late Master can’t hurt you anymore.”
Trepidation/uncertainty/fear/hurt/hope flared through the little one’s field. And in that instance, Megatron realized truly how young this mech actually was. A newbuild, but the tint of his field. Megatron pushed his revulsion down, wishing the Senator was still alive so he could snuff him again. Through Shockwave, Megatron learned that gun-formers shouldn’t be fired for the first few deca-vorns of life. Proteus managed to get two rapid-fire shots out. Megatron cursed silently but managed to stay calm.
He knelt in front of the prone pistol, stiffening when he realized a foreign mass was latched onto it. A transformation inhibitor was immediately recognized. Although not the best circumstances, it was much better than being locked in through slave coding.
“I know this situation must be scary and foreign.” Megatron spoke softly as the gun-former’s field flickered through various emotions. “However, I have the resources to help you. I can get the inhibitor off and fix any damages Proteus inflicted upon you, but we must move from this location.”
The gun-former’s field stilled for a moment before a trickle of hope/safe/… trust thrummed its way through. Megatron honestly relaxed this time, a small smile flickering across his faceplates. He pushed safe/calm/reassurance in his own field.
“May I pick you up?” Megatron asked, and the field briefly flinched away. “I will handle you in a peace position. And I promise not to touch your trigger. Safety will remain on at all times.” Megatron tried to reassure, thinking back to the times Shockwave told him about gun-former culture.
He was pretty sure the peace position was a glyph used by gun-formers referring to handlers that weren’t aiming to fire the weapon. Intent was important to them, as gun-formers held life or death at their digits. Megatron also was certain that Shockwave complained about former masters always having a digit against his trigger. Apparently that component was hypersensitive, and it rubbed him the wrong way when mecha just kept it there even when they were idle.
The safety lock was also extremely important to gun-formers. Because it meant their handlers weren’t planning to fire. Of course, that could change at a moment’s notice. However, it was still a small reassurance.
And it seemed Megatron’s promise won the little mech’s trust. The Decepticon leader felt a pulse of safe/calm/consent and flared his appreciating back.
With reverence, Megatron slowly wrapped his servos around the gun-former. He immediately put the safety in place before positioning the mech’s barrel toward the ground. He kept his frame loose and relaxed as he stood.
It was only then that he realized that his HUD was flooded with messages. Megatron smothered a grimace, staying steady for his precious cargo. He had missed four check ins and his soldiers seemed to be panicking.
Megatron sent out an all clear but didn’t send his location. Not until he’s informed his followers of his situation.
::Soundwave.:: Megatron commed, knowing his most loyal commander was probably relieved and eager to hear his report. ::We have the most joyful news. Tell the army that Senator Proteus is no more.::
::Affirmative.:: Soundwave relayed before pausing. ::Query: Megatron wish retrieval for Proteus’ frame?::
::Yes, Cybertron at large needs to know where functionalism and the mecha that lead it stand in our Decepticon Empire.:: Megatron paused, glancing down at the gun-former. His field had dimmed a little, showing signs of him starting to enter recharge. ::I will send my location momentarily. However, I’ve run into a… situation.::
Soundwave was silent for a moment. ::Query: Megatron: In need of assistance?::
::Negative.:: Megatron immediately reassured. ::I have it all under control. But it seems Proteus was full of surprise. I have precious cargo with me. I think it best that he isn’t bombarded by the troops. I’ll need a secluded path out of the city.::
Another silent pause. Megatron could tell it was filled with Soundwave’s curiosity. ::Affirmative. Soundwave: will have it arranged. Transport: should be waiting once you emerge. Darkmount: awaits your return.::
::I look forward to it.:: Megatron replied. ::Oh, and Soundwave. Alert Shockwave that I’ll be needing his expertise.::
Soundwave gave an acknowledgement before signing off.
After a half breem, Megatron absently sent off his location and where he left Proteus. He was relieved he wasn’t immediately bombarded with mecha exclaiming praise and solace at seeing him alive and well after the brief scare. Megatron was glad Lugnut wasn’t here. The loyal but blundering front line commander would not have taken Soundwave’s orders to spark and came crashing after his Lord. Although Megatron was thankful for such loyal soldiers, their idolization could be tiring at times.
Megatron’s attention turned to the little gun-former when his field flickered briefly before leveling out again. He made sure to keep his own at an all time steady, aiding him in settling down for a cycle.
Whatever horrors you witness in Proteus’ care, Megatron thought as he watched the little gun-former finally succumb to recharge in who knows how long, know that it is all behind you.