Boot to the head!

[koilungfish]

29/1/07 - Ambitous

         Handcuffs, an armoured van, an elevator, a corridor.
         Megatron was starting to think he'd been kidnapped. Arms locked behind his back, head down from the strain on his shoulders, Tarn's champion gladiator stood silently and considered his options.
         If I can get rid of these handcuffs, I could probably escape, but then what? Someone with enough power to have me hauled out of the fighting pens with no warning could easily find me again. Perhaps it's wiser to wait and see, and break heads later.
         The arena guards who'd brought him here led him to a door, opened it, and pushed him inside.
         The room was big, Megatron instantly registered, with a row of huge windows showing only darkness and city night-light. At the back of the room, some computer terminals. Before them, a dais, and a seat like an Emirate's throne. He paid more attention to the two mechanisms on the dais.
         The one before him, standing on the dais, still robed in cloak of office, was Starscream, Emirate of Vos. Megatron had fought before enough Emirates to recognise him on sight. Presumably the green and black build-twin behind him was the Vice-Emirate, Verdigris. There were no guards.
         "Welcome to Vosian territory," the Emirate said, holding out a hand in an empty gesture of welcome. He was six paces and a pair of handcuffs too far away for a handshake.
         "This is the Vosian Embassy," Megatron said without doubt.
         "Hmm, you're cleverer than you look," Starscream smirked. Behind him, Verdigris was poking at an instrument panel in the distracted fashion of someone trying to look busily unobtrusive. "Seems our reports are correct, you might actually have a brain."
         "Why am I here?"
         "Now, now, don't be so hasty."
         "Have you abducted me?"
         "Do you want to be abducted?"
         Megatron paused, fading out his target locks. This Emirate has more brains than his peers. He might actually be dangerous. "I've no love of foolish games. Make your point, or I leave."
         "Out the window?" Starscream asked almost gaily, golden cloak swishing as he strode back and forth across the dais. Even turned sideways on to Megatron, he never broke optic contact.
         Megatron stood firm and stared back at the Emirate, rudely defiant. "If need be."
         "Oh yes, that's right." Starscream stopped pacing and dropped into his throne in a flare of cloth-of-gold. "You have that interesting new technology that lets you fly in robot mode."
         Megatron said nothing, foreseeing forced disassembly in his immediate future. He wondered how heavy the windows were, and whether he could break them with his shoulders or if he'd need to throw one of the Vosians through them first.
         "You also have a very impressive arena record," Starscream continued, rasping voice lowered to a conspirator's burr. "It must rankle you to be penned in such a small state as Tarn."
         "Tarn's barely smaller than Vos."
         "Vos has a lot to offer, more than the radioactive valleys of your homeland."
         "Vos has nothing."
         Starscream rested his chin on one hand and crossed his legs, heel-thruster propped against the arm of his throne. "Vos has energon."
         That got Megatron's attention. Could the Vosian stockpiles be great enough to be useful to him? Tarn produced vast quantities of energon, but most of it was feeding the standing army. "What does Vos want with me?"
         "We need a champion gladiator for the major games in Iacon this summer," Starscream smiled, and Megatron saw knives in that smile. "We've some very good fighters, but nobody quite as special as you." Verdigris stopped fiddling with the console and came to stand at Starscream's side.
         "You want me to defect just for the games?" Megatron was appalled. Vosians are a Decepticon line, yet this is the best their leader can manage?
         "I think we should tell him," Verdigris said softly. Starscream looked up at him, still resting his chin on one hand. "He's smart enough to be dangerous."
         "Explain, then," Starscream said, sounding rather huffy.
         Verdigris turned to Megatron. "We want you to defect to Vos. You will be our star champion, an example of Vos' commitment to a multi-build community -"
         "I'm not a sociology project!"
         "I'm not finished." Verdigris stepped down off the dais and walked over to Megatron as he spoke. "No matter whose banner you fight under, you will win the next games. Nobody can defeat you. As our champion, you will lead Vos' team to victory."
         "And what do you get from my victory?"
         "Prestige. Everyone will want to visit our arenas to see you fight."
         "You want me to boost your tourist trade?" Megatron was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of demented dream, where Decepticons talking like economists.
          "Do you think we're blind?" Starscream said sharply. "We've seen the army Shockwave is building. We've seen the photon stockpiles. Iacon protects all states around Tarn except for ours." His optics glinted, like the light reflecting off the edge of knives. "You're Shockwave's figurehead, the eidolon of Tarn. If you defect..."
         "... I gain nothing," Megatron replied, raising his head in defiance.
         Starscream jumped to his feet, cloak lashing ribbons of gold around him, screaming, "He will not destroy us!"
         "Emirate," Verdigris said softly, glancing over his shoulder, "Megatron may be a simple pawn in this game."
         "Me? A pawn?" Megatron half-laughed at the idea.
         "You're the charismatic figurehead!" Starscream shouted. "You're the shining gladiator, the famous athlete! Millions across Cybertron idolise you!"
         "So? Missing the fame, explorer?"
         Starscream lunged, cloak flying, one step, Megatron heard the crack as Starscream broke the sound barrier from a standing start, and was on his back on the other side of the room, neck red-hot with pain. He'd barely seen Starscream's kick coming.
         "Legascion slave!" Megatron shouted, struggling to his feet. "You've pandered to them for so long you attack your own kind!"
         "You're a Tarnish brute!" Starscream howled, towering above him all draped in gold.
         "We're Decepticons!" Megatron bellowed. "We're the same! We're the rejects of the Legascions, thrown into the gutter because we're no good for a golden peace!"
         Starscream looked down at him, frozen. Megatron could see the flickering of data in his optics, see his thoughts changing.
         "So you are the leader," Starscream said slowly. "Shockwave is no more than a bureaucratic pawn, put in place to make Tarn is wealthy whilst you gather fame and prestige in the arena - to gather the fame you needed to become the new Emirate of Tarn - a new and greater Tarn, built on the ruins of my Vos! And then -" Again he stopped, hands stilled in mid-gesture, optics focused on a moment in the future. "And then!"
         "And then?"
         Starscream looked down at him with the face of a conqueror. "You will leave Tarn, and you will fight for me," he commanded. "Tarn will not rise - Vos will rise! Vos will rise, in a fleet of war-jets, and tear Tarn apart!"
         "And then?" Megatron asked, fierce and hard.
         "And then I will cover the skies of the Legascions in a black rain of terror!"
         "And then?"
         "Iacon will fall! Kaon will burn! The old states will be swept away by my soldiers! The moons will fall to me! The colonies will bow to me! The xenos will fear my name! I will be Starscream, Emperor of Cybertron!"
         "Finally," Megatron said, standing up as straight as he could, watching Starscream come down dizzily from his sudden dream, shocked by his own sudden war-thirst and the first whetting of the savagemost appetites. "A Decepticon with realistic ambitions."