Metamorphosis: Chapter 10

[wyntir_knight]

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I had originally planned for Metamorphosis to go Decepticon, Autobot, Decepticon, Autobot, Unicronian. I have been following this plan, but I have come to discover that I need to get more done withthe Unicronians than will conveniently fit into a chapter, so I think I will post Chapter 10, 11, and 12, then go back to the Unicronians, then get back on track, assuming it still fits.

So, without further ado, for those who are reading this here, here is Chapter 10. Please keep in mind that it's missing something, but I'm not quite sure what it is, so any thoughts would be greatly appreciated.


Metamorphosis: Chapter 10

Disclaimer:
This is a work of Fanfiction. The Transformers and all characters are property of Hasbro and Takara, and licensed to IDW. I do claim ownership of my Original Characters, and any similarity between their names and those of existing characters in Fanfiction or Canon is purely coincidental. I make no profit from this work.

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Cyclonus sat in his chamber in a meditative state. Recent events had caused him to question his loyalty to Galvatron, and this was something that required intense thought and reflection on his part. He was loyal to Galvatron beyond death itself, but if this was not truly Galvatron, then did the body still deserve loyalty? It was a question that had plagued Cyclonus for the last many hours.

He had discussed the matter with Scourge, and the two had come to the conclusion that it was not a matter to be taken lightly. Galvatron was one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy. To take on Galvatron was to perish. And his mind was potentially even more powerful. True, he had degenerated after Unicron’s destruction, but he had stabilized over the past stellar, and had almost reached his full potential again.

To think that the entity within that armour had been violated was almost more than Cyclonus could bear. An if it was truth, if that mech was, in fact, not Galvatron, did he have the internal fortitude to defend his leader’s honour? Could he face this interloper who wore Galvatron’s face?

Wracked with so many questions, Cyclonus had finally decided that the best way to find the answers was to search for them inside himself.

He began by removing all distractions. He slowed his engines, decreased his fuel pump and air intake rates, and lowered the sensitivity of his external sensors. He shuttered his optics and began to look inward. He pictured a blank space filled with nothing. He fell into this, allowing his mind and body to relax until all was nothing.

He opened his optics and found himself in his inner sanctuary. The walls, ceiling and floor were blank metal. Ascetic, spartan, minimalist. Perfect for what he wanted. There were only two things in this space. In the middle of the room, sitting in a pool of light, was a chessboard. It was one of the only useful things he had taken from Earth. There was a beautiful simplicity about the game. It was a perfect metaphor for both life and war. Two sides facing each other in mortal combat. Two commanders surrounded by their troops. Strategy. Sacrifice. Wisdom. Patience. It was a perfect battlefield shrunk down to 64 squares and 32 soldiers. Even the mathematics of it was perfect.

This board represented his view of the war. In this game he was both bishop and player. He advised and protected his king, while at the same time directing him. Cyclonus had never had the desire to be commander himself. He was far happier directing from the background, pulling strings, moving pieces, advising the power that held the throne. Even when he had been Skywarp, his ambition was focused there.

Thoughts of Skywarp brought his attention to the other object in the room. The ghost of his former self hung chained to the wall. The black seeker had been beaten and battered, but he still had some defiance in him. Hence why Cyclonus never let Skywarp out of his site. He would not return to what he once was. He would not be a Decepticon when he could be a Unicronian.

He turned his back on his former self, ignoring the low growl and angry stare. He sat at the chessboard facing black and waited. It could be hours before he was to be approached, but patience was his virtue, and he could afford to wait. Especially if he was to receive the information he desired.

He contemplated the game board and all the possible moves for some time before the chair facing him was moved, and an ancient mech sat down. The mech looked similar to Cyclonus, but more primitive, for lack of a better word. He contemplated the board for a moment before moving the Queen’s Pawn forward two squares. Cyclonus quietly counted and the game was on. Each player silently moved his pieces. Move. Counter-move. Always moving slowly and carefully forward toward the opposing King, the only noise, the soft click of chess pieces hitting the board or each other.

Finally the ancient mech broke the silence.

“You are concerned over your path,” he stated simply, taking a knight.

“I am,” Cyclonus replied. “Galvatron was heading in the proper direction, but now, he seems to be experiencing a relapse.” He moved a rook to take a bishop.

“It has been dealt with,” the ancient mech replied, moving a pawn forward. “As was ordered, your kind will leave this husk and begin the process of taking the stars. The One True God will be reclaimed, your destinies will be fulfilled, and all will be as it must.”

“I will have faith,” Cyclonus replied, queen taking the remaining bishop. “Hopefully He will forgive my doubt.

“He is not a forgiving God. But he will understand and accept. Galvatron must learn to keep his past chained as you have if he is to move forward. You and The Scourge will aid him in this endeavour and all will be as it must,” the ancient mech said as he converted a pawn to a queen and placed Cyclonus’ king in checkmate.

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Cyclonus came back to reality to find Galvatron sitting in a chair opposite him. The commander was covered in flecks of purple paint slightly lighter than his own, and his mouth was set in a frown. Scourge stood slightly behind the chair, arms crossed, blank look on his face.

“Well?” Galvatron asked impatiently. “Are you satisfied with what you’ve learned?”

“Galvatron. Scourge,” Cyclonus stated with a nod to both mechs as he brought his systems fully back on line. “Yes. I am fully satisfied with our orders. All we need now is a destination.”

“We are going to a dwarf sun in the Omicron Kappa sector. We’ll find further instructions there,” Galvatron said, standing up and moving toward the door.

“We will have to proceed with caution,” Scourge said. “That sector is congested with white dwarf stars. It’s a supernova waiting to happen.”

“All the more reason to proceed quickly. We dare not miss this opportunity,” Cyclonus said following Galvatron from the room.

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Galvatron watched as Charr disappeared in the distance. The Decepticons had been upset to see him go. They had begged and bargained, trying desperately to either go with the Unicronians or to have them stay with them on Charr. They knew that without leadership they were doomed, within weeks they would be scrabbling amongst themselves for energy and within the stellar, they would all be nothing more than scrap metal. None of the Decepticons had the ambition or ability to lead and Galvatron felt no pity for them. He was somewhat surprised that Soundwave had not been among those asking to come along. Had he not been a Decepticon, Galvatron might have considered it.

He turned from the window long after Charr had disappeared from view, and turned his attention to what information the Sweeps had provided on the Omicron Kappa sector. Scourge had not been exaggerating when he said the sector was on the brink of supernova. It was an area of space that was densely packed with stars that had millennia before turned to red, white, and black dwarfs, each one at a different stage of death. The heat and gravitational pull of all those suns meant that they would have to find what they were looking for quickly. He had trouble believing that there was anything of value to be found, but he was not about to question Unicron or the Alpha Galvatron again.

Cyclonus succeeded in making the trip in record time and before long Galvatron was observing a literal blanket of stars.

“Is there a way in?” he asked.

“In theory …,” Scourge replied, slowly. “In theory we should be able to plot a path between the stars. I will go first and Cyclonus will follow.” He moved toward the airlock but was restrained by Galvatron’s large hand.

“No,” Galvatron said. “We will send a Sweep out first. They’re more than disposable enough.”

Scourge’s optics narrowed. “They are my troops to command, Galvatron,” he growled. “I know then far better than you and I know that none are suited for this task. It’s me or no one.”

The two commanders stared at each other for some time before Galvatron finally backed down. He nodded, and Scourge exited Cyclonus.

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Scourge moved through space, plotting a path to safely get them between the stars. He knew that Cyclonus would follow without question. The voyage had turned into a labyrinth, but one that was easily navigated when one knew the path, and somehow, Scourge knew the path. It was like a siren voice was calling him, directing him toward the center. An unbidden image of an earth legend came to his mind. It was the story of a young human named Theseus who navigated an impossible maze only to find a monster in the middle. He shook off the story as irrelevant, a throwback to his days as Thundercracker. There would be no monster at the center of this maze. Here they would find only the One True God.

In between stars he moved, trusting that Cyclonus was behind him, always following the siren voice ahead of him.

“Come to me! You are The Scourge. You are my chosen one. Come to me and set the universe ablaze!” the voice called over and over again.

Finally after hours of travel, he was thrown out into the center of the labyrinth. A large open space, empty save for a single metal planet.