Warlord

Independent AU!TFP Megatron. Singleship. Singleverse. Semi-selective.

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Slowly he started to circle Megatron in response to his movements, never taking his optics off of him. The taunts registered but bounced off like rain. He knew what the Hunter’s reaction would be should he ever find out what had happened to Steeltrap back on the Nemesis.

He would rain down death on all who had ever dared to lay a finger on him.

If they were lucky.

With this in mind his only answer to the warlord’s words was a chassis rattling hiss, dripping with all the hate and disdain the young Seeker harboured for him.

While all this was going on, Steeltrap was meticulously scanning his opponent: Every plate, joint and dent was mapped and recorded. As was every weak spot.

Megatron was a terrifying opponent, built for brute force with armor strong enough to endure heavy punishment himself. But all of that came at the cost of agility. Steeltrap didn’t need to overpower the warlord, couldn’t in fact. What he could do however, was outmanoeuvre him and hit him were it hurt most.

One click, two clicks and he had decided on his target. In the blink of an eye he was moving, wings folded up and away over his back. He dipped down low, trying to feint a hit at Megatron’s pedes again but in the last moment he drew up and jammed one falcata right into his left hip joint.

Steeltrap, 13th spec-ops unit, section 7D: intelligence and sabotage, the Seeker had said, when he still knew his place. 

The little beast before him has since long forgot who the predator is, and all it takes for him to attack is Megatron lowering his helm to sneer at him. The wayward Seeker is fast, and his form is beautiful. Lifting a blade to fend off the insolent miscreant, the warlord shifts his stance back and away, but then pain blooms and he gives a snarl. 

He retaliates, slamming a hand down, going after a wing. He’ll teach the Seeker what happens when the weakest link in the chain believes itself safe and strong enough to withstand true strength. Energon is dripping down his hip, but it’s not the pain or sight of it that makes him freeze. 

There’s a scent lingering on the Seeker’s frame. 

Rich, luxurious, enthralling.

He knows it. 

An enraged shout is ripped out of him, and he pulls the Seeker closer to himself, hip burning as it steadily bleeds. His claws tighten around Steeltrap, ignoring the danger he still poses. 

“Do you belong to Starscream...?” He shakes the mech, hunger and vanity coming off him like a mist. “Impossibly tall, stronger than the weakling I left in charge in Earth?” Staring at the Seeker, he remembers... “We fought, and he... He can heal, has some kind of power thrumming through him! Are you his? Answer me!”

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

His cooling system worked overtime, vents hissing in an effort to keep him cool, keep him functional. The young Seeker could practically feel the warlord’s eyes roam over his body, sleazy as waste oil. He knew that stare, had been its target several times back on the Nemesis but somehow he had always managed to get away unharmed.

However, this time, the young Seeker felt, no, knew he wouldn’t be as lucky.

The wounds on his side were still leaking energon and if he didn’t get them treated soon he would be in much deeper slag than he was already. Yet, he managed to draw himself back up on his pedes, suppressing every flinch and pained groan. The same way prey would feign an injury to lead predators astray, the latter would hide them. Let their opponent think that no matter what they did to them, they were still in top form.

But when Megatron spoke, Steel didn’t need to pretend any more. Gone was the pain, warnings and readouts dismissed, emergency protocols overwritten.

Megatron had threatened the Hunter.

His family.

Those words triggered something in him, dormant coding that had yet to emerge. The young Seeker drew himself up even more, wings flared out wide, biolights across them and his chest ablaze in red instead of their normal orange.

“Utter those words again, wretch, and it will be your head liberated from your shoulders.”

And with that he unsheathed both of the falcatas hidden away in his lower arms.

Such a lovely specimen. 

Young, aggressive, and deadly the same way Starscream had once been. Lithe, too, which makes his armour rise and rattle in anticipation. There’s a burning sensation in his tank, and he feels... alive. 

The scent of energon lies thick in the air, the rubble and debris spreading around them, but here and now, there’s only the Seeker and Megatron. He’ll get his hands upon the sleek, little thing. Will hurt him until he gives in, and learns his place, because a Seeker cannot be allowed to think himself free and an equal to his betters. 

“Brave words,” Megatron drawls. His optics snap to the falcatas, and he is... inspired. Impressed, even. He’s not very big, the Seeker he has decided to break in, but he’s adequate. He’ll do very well, as a first follower. “Tell me, Seeker,” he continues, lifting his blade. “Who is your owner, Steeltrap?”

His words, his movements, do not betray his intentions just yet. He wants a name, and he wants it now. The Seeker had been terrified enough to give him more than a designation, but now... Now he looks ready to fight. Megatron has been coped up too long to care about Hardline’s threats - he wants this fight, needs it. 

“Does he know that I don’t really need claim you? Does he know what happened to you in the Nemesis? Does he know, Seeker, that my marks are upon your frame...?”

A guess, and a shot in the dark, but Megatron knows trauma. Push a mech enough, and he’ll snap. Push some more, and he’ll go for the kill. 

“If he saw the marks you hide from everyone, would he even want you back...?”

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Pain.

Terror.

Those two things were what the Seeker felt as the blow connected, sending him to the ground. Megatron only caught his right flank but the lacerations were deep enough for energon to flow. The smell alone almost sent him back to his time on the Nemesis; all that pain, the constant fear of being sent to the brig for the smallest of failures.

No,no,no. FOCUS.

Get up.

Get out.

Get back to Haven.

Feigning an attempt to get back on his two feet, he crouched down again and swiped at Megatron’s foot joints with his clawed feet.

The Seeker knows how to take a beating. 

It makes his stomach plating tense in the most delicious way possible, and Megatron growls under his breath. Ah, but he’d found himself a treasure, because if there’s something that pleases him, it is a Seeker who bleeds prettily and fights back. 

“Your energon is potent,” he says as he dances away from the sharp peds coming his way. He feels them slice into his armour and chuckles, lifting a hand to his lips to taste. “You’ve been pampered,” he states while sliding his optics all over the foolish mech.

The wounded Seeker is lovely in all the wrong ways, and his terror makes Megatron’s sensory net lit up. “Who is your keeper? Introduce me, little Seeker, so I can rip their head off.”

A shift is all it takes, and a blade springs ready to cut. He moves slowly around his victim, his smile all fangs. “You know that I will find you if you run. Why not come while I still can be convinced to let you keep your wings?”

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Pain.

Terror.

Those two things were what the Seeker felt as the blow connected, sending him to the ground. Megatron only caught his right flank but the lacerations were deep enough for energon to flow. The smell alone almost sent him back to his time on the Nemesis; all that pain, the constant fear of being sent to the brig for the smallest of failures.

No,no,no. FOCUS.

Get up.

Get out.

Get back to Haven.

Feigning an attempt to get back on his two feet, he crouched down again and swiped at Megatron’s foot joints with his clawed feet.

The scent hits first, and he is back- masses screaming, chanting his name as they worship the ground he walks upon; they see him, know his might and strength, demanding a kill

-claws draw him to the present, the burning agony so familiar that he almost loses it entirely, and he withdraws only to kick out, watching the pitiful creature bleed from his side.  “You expect that to be enough, Seeker?”

Stepping around the foolish thing, he inspects what he has to work with. Pampered, in perfect condition. It draws a sneer out of him - the Seeker has been spoilt in ways he cannot fathom. Every single thing about him screams Towerling, and that makes what is to come even better. 

“Fight me, attack me,” he commands. “Show me what you can do, other than run and hide.” He won’t use weapons for this, oh no. He will enjoy using his hands and claws to control and dominate, to smother, to snuff out hope and pride, and then? Then he will form the feral Seeker into something...

Pliable. 

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

For a split-second Steeltrap thought the warlord somehow knew where he was as he lifted his weapon and shot. But no, he couldn’t, and as quickly as relief came, it disappeared again as the Seeker realised what Megatron had done. 

He was trapped.

Immediately he closed off his vents, stemming the treacherous air flow that would give away his position. However, he would not be able to continue that indefinitely. While his device was masking any sort of signal or output the Seeker naturally generated, it did not get rid of the source itself. Leaving Steeltrap’s system hot from his earlier sprint and with no ventilation to cool himself down again…

He did not have much time. As slowly and delicately as possible he inched his way through the debris, mind racing, calculating every move he made to make sure that he was not disturbing even one particle of dust. Centimetre for centimetre he made his way toward the tunnel, always keeping his sensors on the warlord. He had to move dangerously close to him to avoid fallen and unstable rubble. But there was the exit, right behind him. If he could just make it past he could escape, he would be free…

With a crackle and a pitiful “fizzzzzz” Steel felt his device give out. Right as he was standing next to the Decepticon leader.

This takes him millions of years back, and he welcomes the sensation of being in control as the sharp edge of rage is made blunt by something he’d rather not think of. 

He needs this. 

Needs the chase as much as his system craves the sweetness of unprocessed energon found in the bowels of the space station that stole him away. Above, his self-proclaimed nemesis awaits, and he can’t stand the thought of being jailed, but this...? This he can do.  This, at least, he knows. 

Thus, he waits, processor filing every movement away.  Tension makes his shoulder-guards rise, and just when he is about to shoot again, his prey appears. Well, then. A grin spreads in his face, and he slashes down, aiming for the Seeker’s sides. He means to maim, means to draw screams and pain. Wants to taste the terror coming off a pained creature, because he. Can’t. Stand. Not being in control.  

And, the Seeker is perhaps unfortunate, but oh so very lucky, because he is driven by desire, and such a thing makes him less deadly, but far more cruel than he would have been, had he wanted his death. 

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

This part of the tunnels was unfamiliar to the young Seeker. He had kept his explorations of the underground to Haven and its surrounding pipes, at least partially heeding his sire’s warnings. Essentially “flying blind” he galloped through the narrow tunnels, not bothering to keep quiet. He would prefer dealing with any of the critters living down here over the horror currently coming after him. Pits, if he was lucky, perhaps they would attack Megatron and distract him long enough to allow the youngling to escape.

But he had no such luck. Taking turn after turn he never stumbled into another creature. He eventually made it to a part of the pipes that opened up into a small cavern. The ground was littered with broken pipes and debris. Some sort of foul smelling liquid was dropping from an opening in the ceiling.

To his horror Steeltrap realised that it was a dead-end and with Megatron’s footsteps becoming louder, coming closer, he could only press himself against the wall near some of the fallen debris. Activating his little device he vanished and tried to keep his venting as unobtrusive as possible. Hopefully the other would simply pass by.

Intoxicating, the way his lines burn as he prepares to fight. 

Slowing down once he reaches the end of a cluster of tunnels, Megatron realises that he hasn’t felt this alive for vorns. He wants the Seeker, wants him bad enough to risk a nest of critters, but at the end of the tunnel, there is nothing but a hollow only inhabited by debris and naught else.  

Cycling deep intakes, chassis rising at the beat of his spark, he enters the cavern, steps determined, heavy. With no critters in sight, he comes to a stop, calculating the odds. A klik passes, and when he makes the connection a twisted grin spreads in his face, turning it into a nightmare of shadows, grim lines and fangs.

“A gifted Seeker.” 

This is his kingdom, and away from Hardline’s prying optics, he can do what ever wants. Moving his optics over the cavern, he thinks of how Steeltrap is worth so much more than his pampered frame first had signalised. The Seeker is in here, but he has made himself disappear into thin air. A delightful contribution to the Decepticon cause, for sure, once he has been properly broken in. 

Looking at the debris, then sliding his gaze across the hollow, Megatron’s grin deepens, and wasting no more time, he lifts his arm and aims straight at the debris. The sound is deafening, the result a mixture of rock, shredded metal and smoke - if he as much as breathes, Megatron will find him. 

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Terror floods his systems as Megatron towers over him, coming closer. It was happening again. He thought he had escaped, believed himself to be finally safe…

Nononononononono. Not again. Never again.

“NEVER!”, the young Seeker cried and with that he dropped on all fours, sprinting past the warlord. Ages ago he had learnt that everything flier shunned the ground, and what lay beneath even more so. That had always been his safe space, his haven, when the constant attacks of the others had become too much.

He could not return to Haven, would not lead this monster there. So he ran and made for the deeper parts of the tunnels, hoping that he would lose Megatron in there. 

Biting down on a snarl, Megatron shakes his helm, trying to erase the ghostly touch of a mech whose vocals have no right to command him in such a way, but the moment he is able process again, the Seeker has moved past him and is gone, just like that. Cursing Hardline under his breath, he turns and gives follow, keeping the impulse of shooting at bay. Down here, in the Pipes, drawing the attention to one self equals death, and while he wants the Seeker, he isn’t ready to fight off a whole nest of critters by himself. The strange Seeker has left few visible signs, and Megatron has lived in the maze long enough to know how to track in the constant gloom. A part of him is fighting the sensation of being kept, and thus controlled, by Hardline’s rules, but another... 

He wants the Seeker, needs him, if so just to have a fight he finally can win. Here is what he has been deprived of all this time - fair game - his for the taking. He may not be able to fight Hardline, but Steeltrap...? Steeltrap is just a Seeker, a strong and independent one, perhaps, but has he not beaten unruly Seekers into submission before?

At that, he finds himself smiling, and laughing, he hurries his steps, now running down the tunnel system Steeltrap has led him into.  “Hide all you want, Seeker.” His vocals carry, echo all around him, and there is a horrible hunger in them. “Your master will have you, and you will kneel before me, just like you were always meant to.”

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Master.

He cowered as the other moved, a quiet terrified keen escaping his vocaliser. Megatron was his master, who ruled the Nemesis with unforgiving cruelty. Why did he ask? He knew, it had been one of the reasons why he abandoned the ship. The other had been…

The Hunter.

That thought managed to shake him out of his stupor just for a moment. He could not be on the Nemesis. He had abandoned the faction and shortly after the Hunter had stolen taken him to Haven. Where was he? Carefully, he scanned his surroundings. His sonar informed him that he was in what looked like to be the tunnels, one of the higher level ones.

Movement from Megatron snapped him back to the very unpleasant problem at hand. The warlord was expecting an answer.

“I do not.”, he said, his processor not fully up to speed. He needed to get away from here.

Shoulder spikes rising, Megatron nods, the vicious taste of victory spreading from his glossa throughout his lines. Intoxicated by the promise of glorious violence and the dominion of all, he growls. 

“If you belong to no one, Seeker, then you are mine.”

That is his brand on those wings, and he’d been without an army far too long. A strong, yet malleable Seeker would be a good start, and if there was a mech as Steeltrap around, then he would be able to track others down and once again, he would rise an a-

Don’t be seen. 

Don’t interact. 

Do you want your freedom? Dark optics, staring him down through the bars of his prison. Then be a good mech, and obey. Infuriating, the way Megatron cannot look away, frozen in place. Submit to my authority, and I will let you roam the darkness below. Refuse, I will keep you here.

Hardline’s vocals come unbidden, burn their way through is consciousness, putting out whatever fire his processor had lit. Shaking his helm in distress, he steps back from the Seeker as if burnt, putting a distance between them as if Steeltrap was his nightmare personified. Hardline - curse him and his insignificant rules both! He is no bot’s whipping bot!

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

He couldn’t move away, instead he shook like a leaf in Megatron’s grasp. Every time he had been this close to the warlord had ended in pain and his own spilled energon. He had learned early on in his days with the Decepticons that resistance was futile. Trying to endure had been the only chance of making it out alive. But not all did…

The mech had been hung from the ceiling in the middle of the command chamber for everyone to see. His arms had given long ago to the strain of supporting his heavy frame and by now only some cables were connecting them to their sockets. The entire fleet had been called upon to attend the flogging, as a reminder of what was in store for those who disappointed their lord. Energon was dripping from the deep gashes the cat had ripped into its victim’s back. Optics dimmed forever as the mech finally stopped twitching…

What the mech in front of him, and his alternates, were capable of was etched into his memory. The scars on his proto-form and spark casing burned in remembered pain. All this panic and pain triggered long forgotten patterns that had kept him alive back then.

“Designation: Steeltrap, 13th spec-ops unit, section 7D: intelligence and sabotage.”

Steeltrap.

Next to Megatron everyone is small, but he can appreciate the obvious strength in the Seeker before him. Spec-ops, intelligence and sabotage? And, here he’d thought Hardline had all but erased every trace of Cybertron’s bloody history in his precious space station. Apparently not, considering the brands adorning the inside of Steeltrap’s wings. 

Staring at the brands, a small, victorious grin spreads in his face. Oh, this will do just fine... A Seeker to lord over. A Seeker that reeks of refined energon, not the watered out slag the emergency drones will hand out for those facing starvation. This is just what he has begged for, in the darkness of his prison. 

The Seeker still stands attention, understands his place, and after having been denied the addictive fear from a subject for countless vorns, Steeltrap’s submission feels like the sweetest, most potent energon. Standing straight, pulling his full height, Megatron looks down at what will become his new subject. 

“Do you have a master, Steeltrap?”

If he does have one, Megatron will kill him. 

If he does not...

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Steeltrap was rooted into place, optics wide with horror, frame trembling. He didn’t even feel the other’s touch as he was dragged into the mouth of the tunnel.

He was back at the Nemesis. Back in the command chambers after another failed mission. It hadn’t even been his fault, high command had simply neglected to consider the possibility of a trap and so Steeltrap and his troup had gone right in. Their leader was already a bloody mess on the floor and no one dared to move. Then Megatron’s optics landed on him, the only Seeker that had been assigned and he…

He was in Shockwaves laboratory, strapped to a berth with hooks applied to his chest plates. His spark was threatening to leap out of its chamber despite the drugs. They had to sedate him after he’d killed two grunts when they tried to restrain him. “I want to know how his ability works, Shockwave. Keep him online, but other than that you are free to deploy whichever means you deem necessary.” Thankfully, Steeltrap had passed out from the pain when his chest plates were forced open shortly after that.

He wasn’t aware that the other was leading him into the tunnels. That he was in Void.

He was back on the Nemesis.

Giving the Seeker’s reaction no further thought, Megatron hurries their pace, perfectly aware of prying optics. He’s not supposed to be visible like this, nor is he allowed to be out in the open. The Chief’s words are his law, lest he wants to be overpowered and thrown into that private brig of his. His freedom is at the whim of a mech whose authority is greater than anything Megatron could ever wish to achieve. 

That brig... 

No, he’s not giving Hardline the pleasure of caging him any further, and thus he pushes the hapless Seeker in front of him, guiding him deeper into the Pipes, making sure to fully avoid Hardline’s elite force and their Primus-forsaken tech. Down here, at least, there are monsters he can kill.

When they are out of reach, he comes to a stop. There are no critters nearby, so he can steal himself an opticful of Seeker. Walking around him, inspecting him, Megatron realises that he’s never seen a Seeker like this one. Such an interesting design, and so very lithe, yet strong. The mech has clearly been pampered, or he wouldn’t be in such a pristine condition. 

“You know who I am,” he drawls, coming around to face him. Using a claw to angle the smaller flyer’s face, he relishes in the mere act of touching another, living Cybertronian. Having been starved for contact during all these vorns, he decides to ignore Hardline’s warning. The miscreant isn’t here, is he now? “And, since we’ve established the fact that you clearly recognise me, you will tell me who you are.” 

[kneel-and-crawl]

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Echolocation was not infallible; just like with regular optics, if something was hidden behind a structure Steel would not be able to see it. And when the other stepped out of their hiding place his sensors where already pointing away from them. So he did not see their approach while he was working the gully cover open.

When he was grabbed from behind he spun around like a feral cat, slashing at whoever was behind him, crest and wings flared out. However, the snarl starting in his vocaliser died when he slashed open the robe. His fans went into overdrive as panic flooded his systems.

In front of him was the Decepticon warlord.

Megatron.

There is movement all around them, but Megatron sneers down at the smaller mech, watching the cloak fall to the ground, shredded to pieces.

A Seeker.

How typical, that he would be thwarted by a Seeker. His initial instinct is to take all his frustration out on the glitch, but standing in the open means danger, and he has got no intention of drawing the attention to himself with Hardline’s elite force sweeping the area.

His claws curl around a finely built, remarkably strong shoulder. Inspecting the Seeker, he takes all the details in - he is in a perfect condition, healthy and strong - and, he clearly is bold enough to move in the lower levels as if he has nothing to fear. Interesting. Optics a mere slit, he turns his helm. The tunnel is just over there...

“You are coming with me,” he growls under his breath.

Giving the mech no time to protest or even react, he turns quickly, aiming at dragging the miserable wretch to the darkness, and safety, of the tunnel.

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Few people knew about Steeltrap’s limitations and even fewer knew of his abilities. Echolocation had its perks, one of them being that most mecha simply didn’t expect it. He had noticed his pursuers some time ago and, thanks to the Hunter’s constant reminders, knew that Hardline and his minions were not to be trifled with. The young mech was no fool, at least most of the time so he quietly but quickly made his way toward the alleys that connected to the lower levels.

The Hunter wouldn’t be too pleased about that either (”It’s dangerous in the tunnels you Primus-forsaken glitch!”) but between Gobblers and Fredericksons or the Chief, the former would be preferential.

So he took a sharp left, his obsidian frame melting into the shadows and heading straight for a gully cover.

It’s shameful, the way he makes sure to avoid being seen.

Had he been stronger-

Hardline’s pale face, the suppressed rage in his optics, even the pitch of his slagging vocals, they come unbidden to him, and he looks down in sheer disgust. Fighting against Optimus Prime had never been like this. He is outmatched, stranded, the unwilling prisoner of a mech who has far too much time on his hands to chase a hapless fugitive around.

Movement ahead of him makes him freeze, but it’s easy to draw his helm back behind the wall in order to stay hidden. He never knows what tech will be used against him, but he has learnt that as long as he stays out of sight, they ignore him. When no one looks for him in the tunnel, he moves quietly towards the opening, longing for a mouthful of clean air, but also curious.

Something had triggered a search party, but what?

Standing in the shadows, he lifts his face to the sky in sheer pleasure, and then he looks to his right. Ahead of him, a shadow moves. Too small to be one of Hardline’s mechs, too sleek and well-formed to be a grounder. Frowning, he pulls the cloak around himself, hiding his face and swooping lines. He wants to see this one for himself while he still can.

One step, then two. Three, and then he reaches out-

[kneel-and-crawl]

[kneel-and-crawl]

decepticonsteeltrap​:

Nighttime at the bazaar was… interesting. People hurriedly making their way in for last-minute purchases, others leaving, ready for a deserved night of rest. The vendors starting to put away their wares, locking up their stalls. Not that it really did them any good when Steel was making his rounds, cloaked by his little device.

One goody missing here, one treat missing there was usually the result. And even if people noticed, what could they do about it? Call security? What would they tell them? They never saw anyone take anything.

Enjoying his spoils, he strolled along the border of the bazaar, close to the shadowed alleys.

Below the surface, Megatron bides his time.

Only when the sector shuts down for the night-shift, will he allow himself the fresh air that so many take for granted. Having been banished to the world below by their Chief, Megatron knows fully well that he lives like a ghost rather than a mech, but he will not sit in Hardline’s office again.

He will wait rather than risk yet another failure followed by the deep shame the Chief so easily draws out of him. And, thus he watches the locals hurry home, fully expecting a complete shutdown of light sources within a few kliks.

As he waits, he takes notice of other shadows moving in the gloom, barely visible and too-fast, and he realises that Hardline’s black army is out, clearly looking for something or someone.

Who has managed to summon them?

It’s not him - this much he already knows. Had he been the reason for them descending from their tower, Hardline would have been among them. Unwilling to risk anything, he stays in the shadows, glancing around.

[kneel-and-crawl]

[liminal-aesthetic]