Megatron's Penchant

Futurlude I

The very early stages of the fourth millennium.

He’d hoped it was all over, that he could finally put the days of war behind him and become a student again. He thought back to his transreality journey to Earth of 2002 and how it had been up to him to put an end to the Globequake; to defeat the monster and save the world. He had hoped (after what Star Saber had done to him) for a respite, for a chance for peace and happiness.

“We’ve tracked Megatron’s signature. What do you want us to do?”

“Lock on and ride it, Sunspot.”

“Locking... now. He won’t get away Optimus.”

He should’ve realised that a commander’s hopes are seldom left unshattered.

*

And you will know my name is Megatron when I lay my vengeance upon you. Oh please! No wonder Megatron lost the Beast Wars.

While it was true he had possibly the worst crew ever assembled, Megatron’s failure was borne of his penchant for following the plans of past Decepticon Leaders. He always believed he had the talent and the skill to build upon what was already established, and push it to the next level, to dare go further than the original Megatron or Galvatron. If he was ever to succeed, he needed to think of his own plan, to come up with something original.

It came to him as he let his spark release its grip of that of the original Megatron’s. The Decepticon’s spark remained in the Transmetal 2 body as his own pulsed and throbbed with previously unfelt sensation, floating like a spectre inside the Axalon’s stasis hold. The five blank protoforms that lay inside open stasis pods clenched and arched with spastic urgency. They each ejected their sparks. Megatron’s spark rushed into the nearest protoform, its solid frame melting into fluid metal. But instead of scanning for DNA or a suitable piece of hardware or vehicle mode and reconfiguring itself, the protoform remained in its liquid state. Somehow changed by the fusion with the spark of the original Megatron, the Predacon’s spark silently called to the five Maximal sparks. They merged. The protoform mutated and grew in size, the same way Optimus Primal had grown and mutated when he merged his spark with Optimus Prime’s. Megatron could not explain the how or why, but suspected that Tarantulas would have known. The scanner’s kicked in and picked up the DNA from the Transmetal 2 body. And it was then that it came to Megatron: true power could never be gained with mere energon; it came from the very essence of the Transformers race.

So that became the new plan. He needed to get his hands on as many sparks as possible. He needed to get back to Cybertron. While his Predacons continued with Galvatron’s volcanic siphons, Megatron was currently on his back, underneath the Axalon, trying to get the old bird to fly again. He felt excited and charged. His new body was all-powerful, and it certainly made short work of the Autobots. Megatron laughed to himself as he considered their mission to retrieve the original Megatron’s spark. He knew it was safe while Sentinel was fully functional, hiding the Axalon from satellites and sensors.

It was all falling into place. New body, new troops, and new ambitions. He just hoped his new crew was more competent than his last.

Darkscream, Gaskunk, and Wartoad began their existence as Maximal protoforms assigned to the Axalon. They remained in stasis until Megatron reprogrammed them into Predacons. It was days like this that they wished they’d never been activated.

“Stupid slagging powerwrench,” mouthed Wartoad. He was actually screaming, but the energy field protecting him from the water muted his anger.

Of the Predacons, only Sky-byte could function underwater. The other three had to wear cumbersome energy field generators that separated their vulnerable circuitry from the depths of the Pacific Ocean. The powerwrench that Wartoad had thrown in frustration sluggishly span through the murky water, hitting Gaskunk square on the forehead.

“Watch it!” he cried. “If you want to take your anger out on someone, take it out on Megatron. This is all his idea.”

Darkscream swam over and picked up the wrench, and silently handed it over to Wartoad.

“Freak,” said Wartoad before turning back to Gaskunk. “What was wrong with us building siphons on dry land?”

In shark mode, Sky-byte swam in circles around the Predacon trio. “Megatron has his reasons. Never question his brilliance!”

Gaskunk shrugged his shoulders. “I bet if we checked, there’d be teeth marks on Megatron’s hide where you’ve tried to smooch his skidplate.”

Wartoad let out a throaty chuckle. It was probably the first time he’d laughed since he came online.

“Shut up both of you!” Sky-byte squealed like a spoilt child. “Megatron wants this siphon completed on schedule. When this seamount blows, we’ll get to see the extent of his genius.”

“Some genius,” said a sarcastic Gaskunk, “copying Galvatron’s volcano siphon.”

Sky-byte curled up his lips and snarled.

“Bah!” Wartoad growled. “You don’t scare us.” He turned to watch Darkscream, who was silently and diligently carrying out his duties. “Now that scares me.”

The four Predacons continued their work some seven hundred metres below sea level in the Kermadec ridge, just northeast of New Zealand. Not even they realised what was going to happen when the volcano blew.

To see Bruticus pawing at Sentinel’s shield was a surprise to say the least. The last time Megatron saw him was in the form of a schematic designed by Blackarachnia. Megatron planned to have him remain on the Ark once he’d carried out his namesake’s instructions from the golden disc. Obviously, this reality’s Megatron had finished building the three-headed dog.

“Sentinel, lower shields,” Megatron said with glee as he dropped to his knees. Bruticus bounded up to him like an oversized puppy and began licking his face with three tongues.

“Oh, I can see you and me becoming the best of friends,” sang Megatron. “How did you find me?”

Bruticus awkwardly transformed into robot mode. “Spark,” he growled.

A powerful sensation pulsed within Megatron’s chest, almost overcoming him. The sparkfusion inside him was hungry for another. Megatron stepped forwards then back again, he would rather have the company.

The sensation stopped when Bruticus folded back into beast mode. It seemed his beast form shielded his spark. It was the same reason the Maximals and Predacons on prehistoric Earth chose beast forms; they protected their sparks from the harmful energon fields.

“I have so much to tell you,” Megatron said as he knelt down beside his new pet.

Bruticus cocked his middle head to one side. He barely had the intelligence to understand simple commands, let alone hold a conversation. Megatron didn’t mind. He had a penchant for talking to himself, and if truth were told, he always felt a little embarrassed unless he had someone to talk at.

“I am troubled by an Autobot called Fire Convoy,” Megatron began. “It would seem that my merge with the original Megatron has somehow rendered my spark more…” (Pause.) “… sensitive. I can detect a familiarity with this Autobot’s spark. Yes.”

“Physically he poses no threat,” he said flexing his hands open and closed. “This new body has afforded me that advantage. But still, I would be wise to remain cautious. He and his Autobots will be back to take my namesake’s spark from me, and I cannot allow that to happen before I complete the ‘Ring of Fire’.”

Bruticus howled quietly and Megatron chuckled. “You know what’s coming don’t you.”

Megatron rose to his feet and returned to his work. “Come now, we must get the Axalon spaceworthy again, yes. And then we can sit comfortably and watch the end of the world.”