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fandomweekly2020-01-27 12:40 am
autobotscoutriella) wrote in fandomweekly2020-01-27 12:40 am
Entry tags:
[#039] Misdirection (Transformers Bayverse)
Theme Prompt: 039 - Premonition
Title: Misdirection
Fandom: Transformers Bayverse
Rating/Warnings: T / Vague battle violence (canon-typical)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 793
Summary: Something is wrong with this battlefield. Megatron doesn't know what, but he's not in the habit of ignoring his instincts.
Something is wrong with this battlefield.
Everything seems normal, or as normal as a war ripping through the surface of the planet and leaving thousands of shattered corpses in its wake can be. From his perch on a rubble outcrop that probably used to be a building, Megatron can see the entire battle laid out across the ruined landscape, and none of the enemy army’s movements appear to be cause for concern. The Autobots have managed to hold their ground, but barely, on the brink of being forced back in one sector and struggling to fill gaps in their lines in a second. As he watches, Blackout’s aerial squadron sweeps across the front lines, breaking the beginnings of an Autobot charge and forcing the depleted unit back behind their own lines.
From here, it looks like the Decepticons are well on their way to victory, with no unpleasant surprises waiting in the back ranks of the enemy. Optimus Prime’s distinctive frame is visible in the center of the battlefield, flashes of red and blue amid smoke and blood. Megatron would prefer to be down there, facing him, perhaps finally snuffing out his greatest enemy. It’s where he belongs.
And yet. He can’t identify what’s setting off alarm bells in the back of his processor from the front lines, so here he is, surveying the chaos and searching for anything that doesn’t fit.
Everything seems to fit—and still something doesn’t.
The Autobots are going to lose Simfur, and they must know that by now. The odds were heavily against them from the start, and Megatron is sure that whichever strategist is with Optimus Prime behind those front lines has run the numbers more than once. Autobots are many things, but suicidally stupid isn’t usually one of them. They’ve already proved themselves willing to move the AllSpark when necessary, and with the Simfur Temple largely flattened by repeated bombardment, there isn’t much protection left for it here.
Why not take it and retreat, while they still have enough strength left to protect it? As much as he dislikes acknowledging his own army’s weaknesses, Megatron knows very well that if the Autobots were to take the AllSpark and withdraw from Simfur entirely, they would likely get away—the forces he has with him are built for heavy combat, not speed, and the Autobots surely know that too. What’s stopping them?
Something is wrong.
A blast from one of the heavy Autobot cannons shreds the ground only a few dozen meters away, sending shards of metal and a spray of dust over everything in range. Megatron turns his helm sharply away to protect his optics, and finds himself looking toward the south and the dim shadow on the horizon that marks the road to Tyger Pax.
Tyger Pax, which according to current intel hosts a small Autobot squad that the main army left behind on their march to Simfur.
Megatron considers that intel in a new light. Tyger Pax has very little strategic value; the most either side will get from it is one more city added to their list of conquests. If the Autobots had hoped to rehome the AllSpark and make a stand at Simfur, they should have kept that squad with them. Why weaken their main force just to guard a completely expendable city?
Unless, for some reason, something about the city is not expendable.
Something in his processor twitches, an instinct that he doesn’t fully understand but knows better than to ignore. The Autobots want to face his army here, at Simfur, or they would already be gone. The tiny squad they left behind isn’t meant to withstand a Decepticon assault, because no one is meant to be think twice about them.
He can’t pull his army back from an almost-guaranteed victory on the strength of instinct. But he hasn’t earned the title of Decepticon Warlord for nothing. He can be, and has been, a single-mech army when the need arises.
::Starscream! Blackout!:: Megatron leaps down from his perch and strides onto the battlefield, ignoring another cannon blast that sends a cloud of black dust and deadly shrapnel across his path.::Continue the assault. Force the Autobots back to the city and out of it if you can, or pen them up in there if you can’t. I will return soon.::
::You’re…leaving?:: There’s a note of disbelief in Blackout’s voice, though it’s muted—he would never directly question Megatron.
Starscream is not quite so diplomatic. ::The battle isn’t won yet, Lord Megatron. Somewhere you need to be?::
He’ll deal with Starscream’s tone later. Something—the same something that tells him this battle is both more and less than it seems—tells him that he doesn’t have much time.
::I’m going to Tyger Pax.::
Title: Misdirection
Fandom: Transformers Bayverse
Rating/Warnings: T / Vague battle violence (canon-typical)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 793
Summary: Something is wrong with this battlefield. Megatron doesn't know what, but he's not in the habit of ignoring his instincts.
Something is wrong with this battlefield.
Everything seems normal, or as normal as a war ripping through the surface of the planet and leaving thousands of shattered corpses in its wake can be. From his perch on a rubble outcrop that probably used to be a building, Megatron can see the entire battle laid out across the ruined landscape, and none of the enemy army’s movements appear to be cause for concern. The Autobots have managed to hold their ground, but barely, on the brink of being forced back in one sector and struggling to fill gaps in their lines in a second. As he watches, Blackout’s aerial squadron sweeps across the front lines, breaking the beginnings of an Autobot charge and forcing the depleted unit back behind their own lines.
From here, it looks like the Decepticons are well on their way to victory, with no unpleasant surprises waiting in the back ranks of the enemy. Optimus Prime’s distinctive frame is visible in the center of the battlefield, flashes of red and blue amid smoke and blood. Megatron would prefer to be down there, facing him, perhaps finally snuffing out his greatest enemy. It’s where he belongs.
And yet. He can’t identify what’s setting off alarm bells in the back of his processor from the front lines, so here he is, surveying the chaos and searching for anything that doesn’t fit.
Everything seems to fit—and still something doesn’t.
The Autobots are going to lose Simfur, and they must know that by now. The odds were heavily against them from the start, and Megatron is sure that whichever strategist is with Optimus Prime behind those front lines has run the numbers more than once. Autobots are many things, but suicidally stupid isn’t usually one of them. They’ve already proved themselves willing to move the AllSpark when necessary, and with the Simfur Temple largely flattened by repeated bombardment, there isn’t much protection left for it here.
Why not take it and retreat, while they still have enough strength left to protect it? As much as he dislikes acknowledging his own army’s weaknesses, Megatron knows very well that if the Autobots were to take the AllSpark and withdraw from Simfur entirely, they would likely get away—the forces he has with him are built for heavy combat, not speed, and the Autobots surely know that too. What’s stopping them?
Something is wrong.
A blast from one of the heavy Autobot cannons shreds the ground only a few dozen meters away, sending shards of metal and a spray of dust over everything in range. Megatron turns his helm sharply away to protect his optics, and finds himself looking toward the south and the dim shadow on the horizon that marks the road to Tyger Pax.
Tyger Pax, which according to current intel hosts a small Autobot squad that the main army left behind on their march to Simfur.
Megatron considers that intel in a new light. Tyger Pax has very little strategic value; the most either side will get from it is one more city added to their list of conquests. If the Autobots had hoped to rehome the AllSpark and make a stand at Simfur, they should have kept that squad with them. Why weaken their main force just to guard a completely expendable city?
Unless, for some reason, something about the city is not expendable.
Something in his processor twitches, an instinct that he doesn’t fully understand but knows better than to ignore. The Autobots want to face his army here, at Simfur, or they would already be gone. The tiny squad they left behind isn’t meant to withstand a Decepticon assault, because no one is meant to be think twice about them.
He can’t pull his army back from an almost-guaranteed victory on the strength of instinct. But he hasn’t earned the title of Decepticon Warlord for nothing. He can be, and has been, a single-mech army when the need arises.
::Starscream! Blackout!:: Megatron leaps down from his perch and strides onto the battlefield, ignoring another cannon blast that sends a cloud of black dust and deadly shrapnel across his path.::Continue the assault. Force the Autobots back to the city and out of it if you can, or pen them up in there if you can’t. I will return soon.::
::You’re…leaving?:: There’s a note of disbelief in Blackout’s voice, though it’s muted—he would never directly question Megatron.
Starscream is not quite so diplomatic. ::The battle isn’t won yet, Lord Megatron. Somewhere you need to be?::
He’ll deal with Starscream’s tone later. Something—the same something that tells him this battle is both more and less than it seems—tells him that he doesn’t have much time.
::I’m going to Tyger Pax.::
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