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A Good Queen	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 3147 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or make any money from this ... though I should. :3

Chapter List
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Chapter 1: Enough!
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“Starscream you fool!”
Starscream yelled in rage at Megatron’s deplorable treatment earlier and then slammed his fist into the wall, his vents huffing. It had been hours ago but he was still enraged, still mad that his supposed Master had backhanded him over energon. He had told the warlord, time and time again, that they did not need to steal from Earth to get energy. Shockwave could just…
Then he would promptly be silenced or slapped after that, not even listening to the educated Second in Command’s proposal on moving Cybertron into rotation around Earth’s sun or at least any other secondary sun. He knew mech’s like Shockwave and Soundwave silently agreed but said nothing. Megatron was too proud to give up on his crusade.
The Autobots and Decepticon’s might have differing views in most things but in the end they now wanted the same thing for Cybertron especially with so many of their kind offline. This war had been going on too long. There were too many scars to just give up though.
Regardless, the slagger could just listen to his ideas. He was a Prince! The Prince of Vos, city of the fliers. A clan head.
“I don’t have to take this slag,” he growled. “I’m a Prince!”
He heard a chuckle from behind him and turned suddenly to see Skywarp coming up behind him, followed swiftly by the other four seekers on base. The SiC frowned as the fliers all converse around him. He quickly looked around to see if there were any witnesses, wondering if he would have to show some distaste for the cone-heads or not. It had been a long, wrung out act and personally even he was getting tired of it. There was no way Ramjet would ever rise against him anyway. He didn’t have the right stuff… literary. He would never be anything other than one of his Lords.
Didn’t mean he didn’t like getting under his prince’s plating, “Are you sure? Being whipped by Megatron, again? You control the whim of every real flier here… you could overthrown him, destroy him on a whim. Yet, perhaps he’s right about you being a coward.”
The reaction was instantaneous.
“Never call me a coward or I will punish you, taking your title and your valve like you are a common consort,” growled Starscream, slamming the other mech into the wall and placing a hand on either side of his head, trapping him. Said mech could only cringe, pulling his armor plates tight in a submissive move.
It was only after a moment or two of cowering with a dipped head did Starscream run a hand over his lord’s face in a forgiving manner before turning away and stating, “Perhaps you are right. Though it pains me to admit it, I have labored so long and invested too much… that it is hard to just give up. He’s perfect. I will not be the failure my creator was.”
All the mech’s shifted nervously, knowing all too well what their Prince meant. There city had declined with such an un-prosperous king. There kind might have disappeared all together if it wasn’t for Vector Sigma, though the creator had misinterpreted their needs. Not one of that young generation had the equipment to help their future prince prosper into a king of Vos.
It was the generation of sterility.
One could not just make parts that were considered part of a Cybertronain’s spark, like a carrying camber.
“… But what other options do I have? Our people cannot wait vorns for … results.”
The five Lords watched their prince’s wings fall, forlorn. None of them wanted their Prince to give in. They didn’t want their Clan to die out like… the Primes.
Shivering at the thought, it was surprisingly when the most unvoiced of their collection spoke, “I trust your senses, but perhaps you have been going about it the wrong way. You’ve been trying to impress Megatron with you skill, cunning, and intelligence, but perhaps that’s not what Megatron respects.”
The other fliers were all glaring at him, but Thunderdracker continued, “Speed, flight, intelligence are all things respected by fliers… but though he is flight capable, Megatron respects force and strength and control… like a gladiator.”
“What are you saying?” questioned Thrust, entranced.
Looking up to meet the gaze of all his countrymen, Thundercracker stated coolly, “Perhaps it’s time that we build a nest; if playing our part in this war had taught us anything, perhaps its best to force your opinion. Megatron’s always been one-minded. He might not understand what you’ve been trying to get across.”
The other Lords all turned to look at each other, shrugging. Why not? They had fought a war trying to get their point across. Trapping and then forcibly taking Megatron in essence didn’t work… well, this was a dead end then and it was best to cut their losses… because Megatron probably wouldn’t be too charitable afterwards anyway.
It was an all or nothing deal breaker, but they couldn’t let any more fliers die.
They’d just have to find another … candidate.
…
Soundwave eyed Starscream suspiciously as the seeker gave one more weary look at Megatron and then left the command center.
He hadn’t said one word all day, not one screech, and yet he was polished so nicely like he wanted the warlord’s attention. Something was going on, and Megatron didn’t like it.
Shifting on his perch of a throne, the grey mech waved for Soundwave to come over. The Communications Officer and Third in Command did just that, leaning down slightly so his Master could speak in his audio.
“Do you know what Starscream is up to?” he grumbled. “He’s been twitchy.”
Soundwave looked back up at the door, Starscream long gone, before he added, “Observation: the seekers are up to something. Materials have been flowing into one of the abandoned hangers.”
Raising a metal brow, frowning, the gunformer added in a louder tone, “What do you mean? Is that traitorous snake trying to overthrow me again?”
Before Soundwave could even confirm or deny it, the warlord rose to his feet and stalked down the hall, taking this into his own hands obviously. The Communications Officer was half tempted to start after the other, tell him that though the Seeker was up to something … it wasn’t volatile in nature. It rarely was… it was usually about wit, intelligence and dominance with Starscream, but what did it matter. The last mech to stand up for the seekers’ culture got shot and so he never mentioned such things… but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter anymore.
Starscream had come to an ultimatum, the twitchy visage of all the seekers on board revealed that much. True, the seeker kept his thoughts far too guarded for Soundwave to ever see what he exactly was up to, but his emotions were still ripe for the picking. He was growing tired… whatever scheme he was up to… it would be the last.
Was someone going to deactivate today?
And yet … for some reason the seeker’s thoughts still didn’t seem violent enough for that.
If Megatron wanted help he would have to ask for it because Soundwave had his own worries. Why were the cone-heads all looking at him like that, his abdomen to be exact? It was a little unsettling.
…
Megatron did not bother to silence his steps and he started down the hall. He would pound that sleek form into the ground and be done with it. He would take no more of this… today was Starscream’s last betrayal. Though, in the back of his mind he had to wonder why this place. True, it wasn’t damp or wet or anything, but it was in the middle of the sunken ship’s belly. Well protect … no easy escape.
The seekers always wanted a place open for retreat.
Unless Starscream had no plans of retreat.
Megatron actually smiled a little in respect.
So it was a melee battle, was it? He did love those.
Though, the battle ground was slightly … odd when he finally got to the designated room Soundwave had mentioned. It seemed that they were building a cage. There was no other way to describe it. It was a circular mass of metal beams and sheets, placed together in an oval, protective sphere.
He could think of nothing more than death match especially with the way his Second in Command was standing there, hands behind his back, in the entrance of the sphere. His frown was deep set and his wings puffed out.
Getting closer, Megatron dully noted that there was no one else here. Not even the slagger’s wing mates.
This battle would be short and there would be no witnesses. He wasn’t in the mood to wait for any. Slowly walking up the ramp that led to the entrance of the metal cage though nest was probably a better descriptive when he noticed the flooring was a soft mesh and … was that a foam pillow in the corner?
Figures, Starscream didn’t want to fall and scratch his paint job.
Getting in the other’s face, teeth bared, noticing that Starscream was standing tall making them almost the same height, the warlord growled, “What are you up to Starscream?”
Puffing out his chest, trying to seem brave though he was entirely nervous, the flier muttered, “I-I’m taking what I want. I’m not waiting for it anymore, Megatron.”
Megatron growled in his throat, “You’re challenging me for my throne again? Don’t you ever get tired of being beaten into the ground?!”
Red optics becoming slits, voice deadly, Starscream murmured, “Your throne was always just going to be a perk… I’ve always wanted you.”
Metallic brow raising, confusion covering his face, Megatron was going to demand what he meant by that, yet with fast movements Starscream reached out to the metallic wall of the cage with a strange glove like weapon, growling, “Prepare yourself.”
Then, glove sparking to life, showing it was electric, the flier touched the metal wall. Not even given time to realize what had going on… Megatron barked as electricity traveled down the wall, around the ceiling and bypassed the floor of foam that Starscream was standing on… and right into the walkway.
It had been a trap.
Not that Megatron really could do much more then cry out as his systems overload from the jolt of electricity, every system becoming overcharge and forcibly shut down, his hub going dark. But, as his optics offline, smoke pouring from his mouth, he found it almost odd that he didn’t fall to the floor with a thud … almost as if he had been caught in an opened embrace.
How ludicrous that thought was … he was sure if he woke up at all, he would wake up dead.
XXX
Paw07: This is a three part story … this first part is clean and part two (shifty eyes) … is not. And that’s all that needs to be said about that.
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A Good Queen