A Predacons Partner

Chapter 30: Loss

It had been a few days since the battle. The Autobots stood anew, their new base secluded in the cold north. The kids and their families had been moved close by, even with colleges and universities nearby so they wouldn't need to move far.

The new base was large, practically surrounded by army sites in the middle of a large empty wasteland. If an attack happened (which they anticipated for a while) they would be ready. Yet it never happened, leaving all the Autobots on edge.

They even still had Starscream with them as a hostage. He had recovered now to his usual shrieking state, much to everyone's 'delight'. Most of the Autobots had recovered, a few dents or scratches here and there as a reminder of the battle. Of course, the loss of a valiant Predacon was costly enough, the grief still lingered in the air. But the Autobots still had a planet to defend, despite little to no activity from the Decepticons. The silence was deafening.

The early morning mist drifted through the tunnels of Songhellir with the occasional tweet of the birds glittering through the silence. The whole area had been closed off, allowing Predaking to be buried there, a peaceful quiet place of rest. Orange burned with yellow in the sky as the sun poked over the horizon. Yet despite the peace, Scales felt none of it.

She sat close to the burial ground after finally finishing burial rites. The hole in the ceiling cast a light onto the ground, a horrid spotlight on the memory. She wrapped her tail around herself as the cold clung to her wings as she curled up close by.

She only came out here for the silence, as if she sat with her father on that cold morning. It felt as though the air around her froze as she lay there, listening to the wind blow through the caves producing sweet notes, a beautiful song. Her audial fins twitched as she caught the sound of a new bird, far far away. One that twittered energetically. The birds were scarcely a problem, in fact, Scales preferred the company. It was nice to know that she was not the only one who came out at four in the morning to catch the greatest breeze.

Then suddenly, her attention snapped elsewhere.

Her Optics opened and she quickly turned, her teeth bared and a feral growl vibrating her throat. For a moment, she expected a human to stand there at the cave entrance, likely lost in the catacombs of Songhellir.

But Megatron stood there silently, expecting this reaction.

Once she realised who it was, she frowned, turned around again, resuming her sitting. She curled up once again, facing away, audial fins on him.

"Don't know where the base is." She said simply, her voice crackling with such a long sentence.

"I know. You've been here for the last two days." She growled as he finished speaking. "Then what?" She asked in hostility, her claws digging into the dirt to stop herself from tearing Megatron into pieces.

He didn't answer, instead decided to look at the burial of the beast. It was flat, likely a dug hole, with odd markings over it. An oval marked where it was and a strange language, one he assumed was Predacon tongue, was drawn over the top in large lettering, due to her large claws.

"What of Unicron?" He asked, ignoring her question. To which she scoffed, lifting her head again. Her eyes met his, a furious fire in them. "If I've been here, how should I know?" She expected him to glare when she turned, yet his optics had an odd gentleness to them.

"Scales," he said, taking a step forwards. He had the intention to speak longer, but she wouldn't allow it. She stood up straight, her wings stretched out, shielding the grave from him. "Not another step." She growled fiercely. Surprisingly, he stopped right there.

"What do you want?" She repeated, her voice now starting to collapse in fatigue. That's when she heard the distant thrum of the Warship, the Nemesis parting the clouds, now restored to its former glory. She watched it through the hole in the ceiling with a glare, then turned back to Megatron. The birds no longer chirped, the Hikers no longer heard of. The peace of Predakings grave was gone, disgraced. He took another step, his presence no longer irritating, but frightening. But she wouldn't step down.