PREDATORY (Megatron x Starscream)

Chapter 8

It was hard not to feel nervous out here—after all, it was, essentially, the jungle. Though the heavy trees did not shudder with the weight of life, nor did the earth hum with impervious beasts, the air put special care into feeling lively, and the barren woodland was deceptively threatening. Though it was but a pale imitation, it did its job all the same; after all, there were foul, diabolical creatures prowling the sententious foliage, and, as far as Starscream cared to know, they didn't discriminate. Whether or not the forest was real, that didn't change the fact it was their territory, and under that dome, they were all equally caged.

The plan, Shockwave had asserted, was simple—on one side of the enclosure, a pod of vehicons was making their way through the growth, taking care to make as much noise as possible in hopes they might scare the predacons out of hiding. Usually, when one stirred, they all did, and when they were all out and about, things would get hectic; when that happened, Megatronus would certainly follow the cue, and then he'd hasten to attack the first vehicons he spotted. Between the noisemakers and the pod Starscream oversaw, which sat patiently sentinel at the other side of the dome, they'd have him cornered—after that, all they needed to do was get him to land and administer the tranquilizers. Casualties would be inevitable, but Starscream reassured herself by staying hidden in the brush, content to play supervisor while the show went on.

Shockwave was very particular about methods and behavior. They couldn't shoot at the predacons with real guns, and if one of them was to approach, the vehicons couldn't scatter: in the event a beast happened to descend, they would stand their ground and pump him full of tranqs until he keeled, because running was not only futile, but terribly ineffectual, he'd said. If it had been you, you would have scrambled as soon as you saw him, Starscream thought sneeringly at Shockwave, imagining his clinical optic flushing pink as the shadow of a beast absconded over him. She had rules, too—if her squadron got picked off and gobbled up, she would not interfere, because at least then there was a possibility that the predacon could swallow their sedative packs in the process (if she made a fool of herself, he would get distracted and go for her, and that wouldn't accomplish anything, would it?). There were plenty more instructions, but she'd given up listening midway through, because, she thought, if this idiot can't even figure out how to keep his own beasts, then I'm not obligated to listen. By this point she'd just about let the details of Megatronus' escape slip her mind, and she wasn't about to hurry to reclaim them.

Soundwave and Shockwave would watch the whole scene, safely, from behind the glass window in the lab. That was typical of them. "I have to do everything here myself," Starscream growled under her breath, repositioning her heels in the rusty dirt and clutching her thighs for balance. Her wings splayed out between the branches of the bush, just barely obscured by the cluster of leaves. "All they do is watch. Watch and listen, and give out instructions like they own this blasted base. At least Soundwave is mute—if he had things to say, I couldn't stand to hear them."

She listened for the rustle of the leaves. Every so often a vehicon would stumble and she'd hear the cracking of twigs from across the clearing, making her painfully aware of how deathly quiet it was. This place was so unnatural. It was as dead and gone as the rest of the moon, only masquerading in a lush woodland's wrinkled corpse. She could hear a breath gone askew in this suffocating vacancy. Several times, she thought she did.

For a fleeting moment, she felt like she'd crossed into a realm beyond the physical, something absent of the senses—that is, if she ignored the tumbling itch in her rotary blades, which came hand in hand with her crumpled posture. The silence and the unnatural lack of smell juxtaposed with the veneer of liveliness created a strange middle realm, a liaison between the worlds of the real and the dead. It was an odd thought, but in her head, it made sense, in some ironic sort of way. After all, she was in a sort of liminal space, unaware of how her fate would trend. Her life was, quite possibly, at the mercy of how well this playful removal would go. The thought made her wish she had protested a little harder. Maybe if she had been a bit more steadfast, this wouldn't have happened. She could have left Shockwave to deal with his own mistake and saved herself the trouble. Or was it her mistake? Could she really avoid this responsibility forever? Maybe this was all her fault, and it would always be her fault, and now she was suffering through the consequences. Or maybe it would be fine. Who could say? It was exhausting.