What Have I Done?

Chapter 29: Better Than You

She was royalty.

Starlander snarled and threw her sparkling at them, before turning around and transforming. Absolutely shocked, the mech in the center barely managed to catch the poor thing.

The distraction was enough.

Starlander's red frame disappeared over the horizon.

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Megatron didn't like socializing.

He certainly had done his fair share of it. As a miner, a gladiator, and a revolutionary, he needed allies. He'd found himself in pickles far more than he'd like to admit, and they were the only reason he'd made it out alive. Scathed, but alive.

Somehow having a one-sided conversation with the entire planet gave him more allies than all his years drinking high grade in bars and telling bots that he liked them more than he really did. He was lucky for that, because now that half the planet wanted him terminated, he had the other half to defend him.

Fortunately, while his socializing had it's benefits, he was not blind to the unintended side effects. He was not blind to the civil war currently swipping through Vos, fueled by the anger of bots who'd been mistreated for far too long.

As he stood at the gates of the royal palace, an army behind him, and fire in his wake, Megatron could not help but grin. He could not help but be proud.

He had inspired this revolt. He had led these bots out of the darkness of oppression. He was their leader.

He was their lord.

Megatron's sword slid from it's sheath in his arm, glinting in the light of chaos. He turned back to the bots behind them and his optics swept over the crowd.

It was a ragtag crew, but they had numbers, and they had determination. On their shoulders and chassises of his followers, the Decepticon insignia had been hastily drawn. It was the outline of Soundwave's visor, the same outline around each broadcast Soundwave recorded and sent out.

Megatron's thought brushed over his own symbol, and the small family that had told him of it. He'd quickly had it drawn on the center of his chassis as well, covering the faint designation that had been printed on him in his mining years. His spark swelled with pride.

"This is it," Megatron told them. "It is time for the good bots of Cybertron to take back our planet!"

He turned once more and leveled his sword at the already crazed city of Vos, "Decepticons, transform and rise up!"

With a battle cry of their own, the army surged forward, and wind rushed over Megatron's frame as they sped past. He took a moment to watch his glorious mob storm Vos and then he transformed, taking off after them with a shout.

Gone were the times of Megatronus, the unfortunate gladiator champion. Today would begin the era of Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons.

As his forces clashed with the royal army and Elite Guard, or at least those of them who still wore the badges of superiority, Megatron rose into the sky. He headed straight for the capital.

Just days ago he'd been living here peacefully, with most of Cybertron at his side, but ever since Orion's short speech of lies, many of them had turned away, disgusted, and eager to believe that their government was not at fault for the chaos that Megatron accused it of.

It was at that time that Vos plummeted into chaos; the inner city was at war with itself. Megatron knew that it would either be him that restored order or the council. He could not afford to let the council retake Vos; that would mean he'd lost the first battle of this war.

War.

"If all goes well, we'll have crippled the Supreme Council without spilling a drop of energon."

Megatron didn't want his revolution to go this far. He'd wanted to take the Supreme Council by storm and force them to hand over leadership of Cybertron to him. If it hadn't of been for Orion's plan, they could have done it already. But, Megatron supposed, it was good that they'd tried going about things the diplomatic way, or otherwise they'd be no better than the council.

He was better than the council. They did terrible things. Megatron wanted to pave a better world for the rest of Cybertron.

Megatron reached an open balcony and transformed again, his massive pedes hitting the floor with the screech of metal on metal.

He needed to get clear the building of his enemies, starting from the top floor. His allies would begin at the lower levels and work their way up. Any resistance would be trapped in the middle.

He had gone over this plan with the underground leaders who had taken him and Soundwave in after they ran from the council. Orion had been the one to tell him about the place, and Megatron was fortunate that Soundwave had been listening in.

It seemed Soundwave listened in on everything nowadays.

Megatron's optics scanned the room for signs of threats, and his attention fell upon an assortment of knives, sitting in proximity to a rack of low grade and a small shaker toy. He frowned and stepped closer.

Soundwave's words echoed in his processor, "Oh, so you're all high and mighty now, huh? Orion's self-righteousness must have rubbed off on you! Next thing I know, you'll be in kahoots with the Supreme Council, helping them send orphans to the pits!"

While it was clear that Megatron was neither working with the council or purposeful causing harm, he could not deny that this fight would have serious repercussions on the defenseless. Innocent bots would be caught in the crossfire, and it would be Megatron's fault.

A small voice whispered to him that it was Orion's, but Megatron brushed it aside. No matter what Orion had done, it was Megatron who started this. Megatron, Soundwave, and Crashdrive.

There was a small whine to the side, and Megatron immediately raised his defenses again, his helm snapping to the side. He listened again, but all was quiet, save for the muffled roars of the battle outside.

Megatron walked forward slowly, but once he reached the other side of a large berth, he stopped in his tracks.

There, laying on the floor, was a sparkling.

Megatron instantly recognized it as the same child that Sunspot and her sparkmate had been trying to quiet before they went to Iacon to confront the Supreme Council. The sparkling looked almost exactly like Sunspot: silver, sleek, and lined with red accents.

The sparkling hadn't seemed to notice him yet, and it was instead picking at the paint on it's knee. Carefully, Megatron knelt down and cleared his throat.

Turning around, the sparkling's little optics stared up at him, growing wide at the size of the massive silver frame.

And then he started screaming.