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fandomweekly2021-03-29 07:44 pm
autobotscoutriella) wrote in fandomweekly2021-03-29 07:44 pm
Entry tags:
[#089] Bitter Victories (Transformers Bayverse)
Theme Prompt: 089 - Success
Title: Bitter Victories
Fandom: Transformers Bayverse (set late in Dark of the Moon)
Rating/Warnings: PG / vague implications of violence, none explicit
Bonus: No
Word Count: 853
Summary: Sentinel Prime takes advantage of a quiet moment to consider the implications of his victory.
Victory, Sentinel Prime reflected, was not nearly as uncomplicated as the holonovels portrayed it. If nothing else, the post-battle logistics would have been daunting to many otherwise excellent military commanders.
The organic city sprawled out below him, a maze of too-small streets and surprisingly tall towers. If he adjusted his optical filters, he could make out the miniscule shapes of humans, fleeing down narrow streets on foot or in their low-tech vehicles. Some of them had been evacuated before his arrival, but most had not. Thankfully, the humans had mostly organized their own removal; Dylan Gould was beyond untrustworthy, but at least he was competent when dealing with his own species.
It was a shame, Sentinel thought, that it had come to this. The peace treaty should have been set long ago, before the war ever left Cybertron. The humans were tiny and arrogant and had no respect for beings who could have crushed their whole world in the blink of an optic, and Sentinel had little pity for the rage and terror of their leaders when they discovered that not all of the Autobots were content to be their submissive war machines, but he had never enjoyed bringing war to civilized planets that had had no hand in the war's beginning. The costs were always high, and usually led to resentment down the road as the unwillingly involved planet recovered.
But it was necessary, and so once again he had done it. The humans might resent Cybertron forever - or they might outgrow it in a few generations, they were such a short-lived species - but the humans would survive to do it, and more importantly, Cybertron herself would live again, resented or not. Cybertron surviving - Cybertron thriving - was all he had ever fought for, whatever else Optimus Prime or the humans might accuse him of.
And now, for the first time in a long, long time, that goal was within his reach. After thousands of years of war and destruction and slowly fading away, Cybertron would be restored.
The thud and rattle of metal on stone warned of Megatron's approach well before he was in reach. Sentinel deliberately chose not to turn, allowing his reluctant ally to approach without looking back. It was a sign of either trust or contempt, a position that wordlessly announced his absolute conviction that Megatron would not or could not successfully stab him in the back; it was likely that Megatron would take the gesture as the latter, regardless of Sentinel's actual thoughts.
(Sentinel had to admit that it was a fair assumption. He had once respected Megatron's leadership and strength even while facing him down across a battlefield, but the Megatron he had found on Earth was a fractured shadow of his former power. Even if he had wanted to break the peace treaty - not yet out of the question - this Megatron no longer had the ball bearings to stab Sentinel in the back without flinching.)
"Not much point hovering up here watching the horizon for an attack. We've won," Megatron grunted, settling into position at Sentinel's right hand. Sentinel did not object, though part of his processor did (it should have been Optimus there, not Megatron).
"Almost." Sentinel watched another small convoy of humans fleeing south, away from the towers and the narrower streets. "When Cybertron is restored, then I will consider us truly successful."
Megatron snorted in what might have been agreement or disapproval. It was difficult to tell. "Optimus is gone. The humans can't hope to stop us now."
"No. But they may try, and we cannot be sure that no Autobots have remained hidden somewhere on this planet," Sentinel pointed out. "So until I give the word, we will proceed as if there are still enemies waiting to stop us."
Even without looking, Sentinel could feel the heat of Megatron's glare, but the Decepticon leader remained silent. Sentinel continued after a moment of no objection. "The space bridge will bring Cybertron into this solar system tomorrow. I expect your troops to be in place to defend it, no matter whether or not you think there will be a threat. Understood?"
Sentinel thought he could hear Megatron's teeth grinding. "Understood."
Megatron stalked away without waiting to be dismissed, and Sentinel let him go. Eventually, of course, he would need to sort that problem out. Megatron might lack the courage to stand up to Sentinel now, but there was no guarantee that it would last. The chain of command would need to be unmistakably clear.
But that, like the possibility of human resistance and hidden Autobots, was a problem for later. Sentinel watched the last few vehicles disappear into the distance and surveyed the empty city. It was a shame about the humans, but on the whole, he was satisfied with the day's work.
After so many years of war, tragedy, and loss - after his own death, a variable he should have worked around, but never had - Cybertron's restoration was, finally, within reach.
Sentinel Prime gazed off to the horizon and allowed himself, however briefly, to relax.
Title: Bitter Victories
Fandom: Transformers Bayverse (set late in Dark of the Moon)
Rating/Warnings: PG / vague implications of violence, none explicit
Bonus: No
Word Count: 853
Summary: Sentinel Prime takes advantage of a quiet moment to consider the implications of his victory.
Victory, Sentinel Prime reflected, was not nearly as uncomplicated as the holonovels portrayed it. If nothing else, the post-battle logistics would have been daunting to many otherwise excellent military commanders.
The organic city sprawled out below him, a maze of too-small streets and surprisingly tall towers. If he adjusted his optical filters, he could make out the miniscule shapes of humans, fleeing down narrow streets on foot or in their low-tech vehicles. Some of them had been evacuated before his arrival, but most had not. Thankfully, the humans had mostly organized their own removal; Dylan Gould was beyond untrustworthy, but at least he was competent when dealing with his own species.
It was a shame, Sentinel thought, that it had come to this. The peace treaty should have been set long ago, before the war ever left Cybertron. The humans were tiny and arrogant and had no respect for beings who could have crushed their whole world in the blink of an optic, and Sentinel had little pity for the rage and terror of their leaders when they discovered that not all of the Autobots were content to be their submissive war machines, but he had never enjoyed bringing war to civilized planets that had had no hand in the war's beginning. The costs were always high, and usually led to resentment down the road as the unwillingly involved planet recovered.
But it was necessary, and so once again he had done it. The humans might resent Cybertron forever - or they might outgrow it in a few generations, they were such a short-lived species - but the humans would survive to do it, and more importantly, Cybertron herself would live again, resented or not. Cybertron surviving - Cybertron thriving - was all he had ever fought for, whatever else Optimus Prime or the humans might accuse him of.
And now, for the first time in a long, long time, that goal was within his reach. After thousands of years of war and destruction and slowly fading away, Cybertron would be restored.
The thud and rattle of metal on stone warned of Megatron's approach well before he was in reach. Sentinel deliberately chose not to turn, allowing his reluctant ally to approach without looking back. It was a sign of either trust or contempt, a position that wordlessly announced his absolute conviction that Megatron would not or could not successfully stab him in the back; it was likely that Megatron would take the gesture as the latter, regardless of Sentinel's actual thoughts.
(Sentinel had to admit that it was a fair assumption. He had once respected Megatron's leadership and strength even while facing him down across a battlefield, but the Megatron he had found on Earth was a fractured shadow of his former power. Even if he had wanted to break the peace treaty - not yet out of the question - this Megatron no longer had the ball bearings to stab Sentinel in the back without flinching.)
"Not much point hovering up here watching the horizon for an attack. We've won," Megatron grunted, settling into position at Sentinel's right hand. Sentinel did not object, though part of his processor did (it should have been Optimus there, not Megatron).
"Almost." Sentinel watched another small convoy of humans fleeing south, away from the towers and the narrower streets. "When Cybertron is restored, then I will consider us truly successful."
Megatron snorted in what might have been agreement or disapproval. It was difficult to tell. "Optimus is gone. The humans can't hope to stop us now."
"No. But they may try, and we cannot be sure that no Autobots have remained hidden somewhere on this planet," Sentinel pointed out. "So until I give the word, we will proceed as if there are still enemies waiting to stop us."
Even without looking, Sentinel could feel the heat of Megatron's glare, but the Decepticon leader remained silent. Sentinel continued after a moment of no objection. "The space bridge will bring Cybertron into this solar system tomorrow. I expect your troops to be in place to defend it, no matter whether or not you think there will be a threat. Understood?"
Sentinel thought he could hear Megatron's teeth grinding. "Understood."
Megatron stalked away without waiting to be dismissed, and Sentinel let him go. Eventually, of course, he would need to sort that problem out. Megatron might lack the courage to stand up to Sentinel now, but there was no guarantee that it would last. The chain of command would need to be unmistakably clear.
But that, like the possibility of human resistance and hidden Autobots, was a problem for later. Sentinel watched the last few vehicles disappear into the distance and surveyed the empty city. It was a shame about the humans, but on the whole, he was satisfied with the day's work.
After so many years of war, tragedy, and loss - after his own death, a variable he should have worked around, but never had - Cybertron's restoration was, finally, within reach.
Sentinel Prime gazed off to the horizon and allowed himself, however briefly, to relax.