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fandomweekly2023-06-17 09:39 am
heliopauseentertainments) wrote in fandomweekly2023-06-17 09:39 am
Entry tags:
[#181] A Word Once Given (Transformers IDW1)
Theme Prompt: 181 - Broken Promise
Title: A Word Once Given
Fandom: Transformers IDW1
Rating/Warnings: General - Minor character death mention
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 635
Summary: In which Megatron attempts to protect his crew after the Lost Light is destroyed.
“You gave your word.”
Megatron could hear Rodimus’s voice replaying, unbidden, in his processor as he stared at the remains of the Lost Light from the porthole of his temporary quarters on The Peaceful Tyranny.
Chunks of debris, some recognizable components and others generic space junk, floated in their unending suspension. With no forces to act upon them, everything would remain where it had been flung by the explosion of the one of the quantum engines. A still, silent grave for those that were not captured.
“You gave your word.”
Rodimus’s betrayed face as Tarn’s lackeys lead him and the rest of the command staff away, filled his thoughts, distorted by the unrestrained guilt. Rodimus had trusted him, had let him close, and now….
Megatron turned away from the porthole, unwilling to stare at the devastation, the monument to pointlessly destroyed lives, any longer.
Guilt was something Megatron had tamped down for millions of years, something he had thought he had learned to let go through the power of self-discipline.
All for the greater good, all for the Cause…. All lies he had told himself. It had eventually been all for power, all for the brief gratification of sheer violence.
Now, it gnawed at him, pulling at the inner structures of his spark while his fellow Autobots languished in holding cells in the belly of Tarn’s ship.
And he sat there on a recharge slab, doing nothing but dwelling.
While Megatron hadn’t asked to be “rescued,” he also had not resisted when the Decepticon Justice Division had seized him and the others aboard a stalled Lost Light.
All he had done was to tell Tarn the others were no threat, not worth killing.
And then he had stood there on the gangway, doing nothing but watching. Rodimus had at least had the self-respect to start swearing, calling Megatron all manner of colorful invectives.
Megatron had played along with what Tarn had seemed to want, surely looking for all the world like he was taking Tarn’s desperate offer to reclaim his position and power.
Perhaps Rodimus would one day forgive him for the ruse, stalling for time, buying the crew however many more minutes of life he could before Tarn realized that Megatron would not be convinced to lead them in a renewed war effort.
“’You gave your word’,” he repeated under his breath, mocking himself in Rodimus’s stead as he pulled the Rodimus Star for “abandoning his evil ways” out of his subspace.
The gleaming grin on the chunk of metal was a poor imitation of the real thing.
“Yes, I did.”
Behind the medal, on the wall of the habsuite, Megatron noticed a panel. The surface edge had peeled slightly away from the structure.
His processor began to pull up the ship’s last known schematics, from his time having had access.
Some of the ship designs had some… particular weaknesses. Hidden well from most but either those in High Command or a select few engineers.
The wiring supplying power to the ship was poorly isolated, a giant singular network, which meant it would be trivial to disrupt with the right know-how. Quite the exploitable oversight, surely as yet uncorrected in the bureaucratic chaos of Decepticon administration.
Some of those vulnerable wires ran behind that modest, loose panel.
“And I truly meant it.”
It was a shame to repurpose his one personal belonging into a circuit disruptor, a glorified shiv, but perhaps, in time, Rodimus would forgive him enough to provide him with another one.
After all, using an improvised tool without a fully formulated plan was a play right out of Rodimus’s book. Maybe he would appreciate being the literal face that brought the Tyranny to an unexpected halt and deactivating the holding cells’ energy bars.
Yes, Megatron imagined Rodimus would appreciate that immensely.
Title: A Word Once Given
Fandom: Transformers IDW1
Rating/Warnings: General - Minor character death mention
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 635
Summary: In which Megatron attempts to protect his crew after the Lost Light is destroyed.
“You gave your word.”
Megatron could hear Rodimus’s voice replaying, unbidden, in his processor as he stared at the remains of the Lost Light from the porthole of his temporary quarters on The Peaceful Tyranny.
Chunks of debris, some recognizable components and others generic space junk, floated in their unending suspension. With no forces to act upon them, everything would remain where it had been flung by the explosion of the one of the quantum engines. A still, silent grave for those that were not captured.
“You gave your word.”
Rodimus’s betrayed face as Tarn’s lackeys lead him and the rest of the command staff away, filled his thoughts, distorted by the unrestrained guilt. Rodimus had trusted him, had let him close, and now….
Megatron turned away from the porthole, unwilling to stare at the devastation, the monument to pointlessly destroyed lives, any longer.
Guilt was something Megatron had tamped down for millions of years, something he had thought he had learned to let go through the power of self-discipline.
All for the greater good, all for the Cause…. All lies he had told himself. It had eventually been all for power, all for the brief gratification of sheer violence.
Now, it gnawed at him, pulling at the inner structures of his spark while his fellow Autobots languished in holding cells in the belly of Tarn’s ship.
And he sat there on a recharge slab, doing nothing but dwelling.
While Megatron hadn’t asked to be “rescued,” he also had not resisted when the Decepticon Justice Division had seized him and the others aboard a stalled Lost Light.
All he had done was to tell Tarn the others were no threat, not worth killing.
And then he had stood there on the gangway, doing nothing but watching. Rodimus had at least had the self-respect to start swearing, calling Megatron all manner of colorful invectives.
Megatron had played along with what Tarn had seemed to want, surely looking for all the world like he was taking Tarn’s desperate offer to reclaim his position and power.
Perhaps Rodimus would one day forgive him for the ruse, stalling for time, buying the crew however many more minutes of life he could before Tarn realized that Megatron would not be convinced to lead them in a renewed war effort.
“’You gave your word’,” he repeated under his breath, mocking himself in Rodimus’s stead as he pulled the Rodimus Star for “abandoning his evil ways” out of his subspace.
The gleaming grin on the chunk of metal was a poor imitation of the real thing.
“Yes, I did.”
Behind the medal, on the wall of the habsuite, Megatron noticed a panel. The surface edge had peeled slightly away from the structure.
His processor began to pull up the ship’s last known schematics, from his time having had access.
Some of the ship designs had some… particular weaknesses. Hidden well from most but either those in High Command or a select few engineers.
The wiring supplying power to the ship was poorly isolated, a giant singular network, which meant it would be trivial to disrupt with the right know-how. Quite the exploitable oversight, surely as yet uncorrected in the bureaucratic chaos of Decepticon administration.
Some of those vulnerable wires ran behind that modest, loose panel.
“And I truly meant it.”
It was a shame to repurpose his one personal belonging into a circuit disruptor, a glorified shiv, but perhaps, in time, Rodimus would forgive him enough to provide him with another one.
After all, using an improvised tool without a fully formulated plan was a play right out of Rodimus’s book. Maybe he would appreciate being the literal face that brought the Tyranny to an unexpected halt and deactivating the holding cells’ energy bars.
Yes, Megatron imagined Rodimus would appreciate that immensely.
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