The Nth Parallel
By
The Lady MoonHawke
With
The Lady Razorsharp


 “Dead I am the life, dig into the skin,
 knuckle crack the bone, 21 to win.
 Dead I am the dog, hound of hell you cry.
 devil on your back, I can never die.”
 Dragula - Rob Zombie

 Raven literally stumbled across Razorsharp's youngest daughter just inside the door of a seemingly empty holo-simulation suite. Evidence of the young femme’s foul mood was displayed in the many scorch marks on the unoffending walls. “What troubles you, young one?”

 “Just leave me alone, Autobot. You wouldn't understand.” Velocity’s snarl was a near-perfect imitation of her mother's.

 “Oh, I wouldn't?” She studied the adolescent carefully. “No. Perhaps not. After all, I was never young, was I? I never questioned my place in the universe, the purpose of my existence. Doubtless I know nothing of your fears, your worries.” Her voice was gentle, the sarcasm soft and light.

 Velocity had the grace to blush. “I'm sorry, Raven. I just feel so... out of place here, sometimes.” She drew a sharpening stone from a subspace pocket and set to work sharpening her blade.

 “Use a longer stroke,” Raven suggested. “And sharpen from the edged side of the blade back, lest your sharpened edge fold back on itself.” Velocity's surprised look made her chuckle. “I know how to care for many weapons, even though I don't use them. It's part of regular Decepticon training.”

 Velocity sighed. “I have no Decepticon training, practically. I barely even remember my father.”

 “The former Governor? He was considered one of the Decepticon’s greatest leaders. Greater even than Megatron or Galvatron. He was legendary at Tournament,” Raven said.

 “What was Tournament? I’ve heard the phrase, but Maman doesn’t talk about it.”

Raven sighed. “Tournament was a form of ritual combat many ages ago, young one. Decepticons fought criminals and each other to entertain the Autobot princes and their sycophantic Neutral stooges.”

 “Like the gladiators of ancient Earth?” Velocity asked.

 “Something like that, I suppose.” She leaned against the wall, and allowed herself to slide down til she was sitting on the floor. “Whole families were of fighting lines, proud to serve as ideal, elite warriors, members of the Decepticon Grand Armada. Mine was such a family, and, oddly enough, you could say my family was tied to yours.”

 Vel sat next to her. “Like we’re related? How?”

 “It’s not the same. There wasn’t a tie of family bond. But members of my family served directly under General Straxus. It was considered a great honor for us, as he was pre-eminent at the art of war.” She sighed again and looked at the young femme, remembering a time when she too had been that young and desperate for a chance at life. “I have memories of him. I could tell you what I know, if it would help,” Raven offered reluctantly.

 “Would you? I mean, I know he's died, so there can't be anything really recent, but, just to hear something.... Maman never speaks of him.”

 It was Raven's turn to look surprised. “She never mentions him to you or your siblings?”

“No,” Velocity stated. “There was some bad feeling between them, near the end.”

“That was much past the time I knew him, youngling. But I will share what I can.” Raven leaned her head back, her odd amethyst optics darkened in memory. “This happened many cycles ago, before the Great War, before the Autobots found Earth. I first saw your father, Straxus, the former Governor of Darkmount, at a victory celebration.” Cycles of light and darkness slipped away, and Raven was again a young Decepticon femme, scrabbling for a place in the Armada.....



 Raven stared around her at the Main Hall of the Decepticons in Darkmount. Bots were everywhere; mechs, war-heroes and common soldiers alike, some with femmes hanging on their arms, staring with a vapid fascination that made her fuel tanks churn. Skystream patted her hand as she gripped him tighter, smiling down at her, and she beamed back. Her own brother, here to receive his first commendation, and he’d offered to bring her.

 She drank in the sight of warriors everywhere, feeling her fuel pump pound behind her chestplate. “Did I tell you I had the best time ever tonight?” she murmured.

 Skystream laughed. “We just arrived, Little Bird. How can you know?”

 She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to be here, seeing this. I could cease to function right now.”

 “You better not,” her brother mock-threatened. “I would never be able to explain it to your mother.”

 Raven was silent as a femme crossed in front of them, head up and arms swinging freely. She was like nothing Raven had seen before, decked in a cape as elaborate as any general’s. “Who is she?” she whispered, stunned.

 Skystream saw what had caught his sister’s attention. “Fire-Eyes. They call her the Dragon.” The admiration in his tone was clear.

 “Who is she here with?” Raven couldn’t take her eyes from the captivating femme.

“No one. She’s another general. Do you want to meet her?”

 Raven nodded. “You know her?”

 He shook his head, steering her in the same direction the Dragon had gone. “My general knows her. I think he would introduce you.”

 They made their way slowly to a knot of generals chatting, and Skystream waited patiently to be recognized. Raven fidgeting slightly, and he clamped a hand swiftly over hers, a silent warning to be still.

 A tall black Seeker turned, and Raven felt a chill go through her. She had never seen her brother’s commanding officer in person, and now the force of his presence chilled her to the core.

 “Good evening, Lieutenant. I’m glad to see you made it,” the general intoned.

Skystream nodded deferentially. “A good evening to you as well, General Straxus. May have the honor to present my younger sister, Raven.” He drew Raven forward into the big mech’s shadow.

 Raven pushed down her fear. “Good evening, Sir. It is a great pleasure for me to meet you.”

The Seeker smiled an enigmatic smile. “Really? And why did you come this evening?”

She turned her courage up another notch. “My brother is receiving a medal tonight. It is a great honor for our line....”

 He cut her off. “But why you? Little sisters usually stay home, away from these events.”

“I wanted to see the Grand Armada,” she blurted out. Then, “I want to be a warrior.”

The Dragon turned from her near-by conversation. “You wish to fight, child?” Raven felt the optics of all the other generals on her, and kept her eyes up and her chin out.

“Yes, I do. I want to fight for the honor and glory that is the heart of Deceptica. Every bot is important to the Armada,” she announced, paraphrasing a popular cliché.

The Dragon smiled. “You are right in that, child. When the time comes, every bot, mech and femme, will be needed to continue our way of life.” She turned back to the general she had been speaking to. “You see, Megatron? Even this child knows her place is with the warriors.” She turned back to Raven. “Are you in training for Tournament?”

 Raven shook her head. “I have no one to teach me. My brother is only just back from the arena, and has had no time-”

 The Dragon brushed her words aside. “Find me tomorrow. We will find you a trainer, and a sponsor for Tournament.” She studied Raven a moment. “You do know it is dangerous? This is no game, child. If you have doubts, do not come.”

 Raven lifted her chin higher. “I’ll be there, Sir. Thank you.”

 The brassy sound of trumpets split the air, and Skystream took Raven’s hand, pulling her away. “Did you get what you wanted, then?” he asked.

 She nodded. “The Dragon is going to have me trained for Tournament.”

The look on his face was mixed, especially when he saw Megatron whispering to Soundwave. Skystream pressed a small blaster into Raven’s hand. “Hold on to this,” he whispered. “And don’t be afraid to use it.”

She looked at him, confused. “But-”

He put one finger to her lips, silencing her. “Trust me. Just keep it close.” Then he was gone, mounting the steps to cheers from the crowd. She watched with wide optics as he took his place in the line of warrior on the platform. Then, what she saw amazed her. From the cluster of Decepticon leaders stepped an Autobot. Raven had so seldom been outside the Decepticon enclave that she couldn’t even identify the aristocrat. Harmonizers around her whispered, and over and over she heard the word “Optimus.” She leaned toward the nearest bot.

“Who is he?” she whispered.

“His name’s Optimus. He’s up and coming on the Council, I hear. In line for a voting seat,” her neighbor returned.

Raven stared, amazed. “I’ve never seen an Autobot so close before,” she murmured without thinking.

“Pray that you don’t again. No good would come of it.” The audience broke into applause as the first of the medals were handed out, and Raven dutifully joined in, but she couldn’t tear her optics from the red and blue mech, who must have been a minion of Primus Himself.

“Why is that?” she asked, careful to keep her voice even.

“Do you know much about politics, young one?” She shook her head. “Let me explain, then. Cybertron is ruled by the Great Council. Do you know who sits on the council?” Again, she shook her head. “Autobots, child. Many Autobots form the backbone of the council. And a few Neutrals. And no Decepticons. We have no say in how our world is run.”

Raven was aghast. “What can be done?”

“What we are doing. Training, building ranks, biding our time. The day will come when Decepticons decide their own fate.” He turned away, the conversation clearly over.

Raven turned back to the stage, in time to see the Autobot, Optimus, placing a medal of honor on Skystream’s chestplate, and take his arm in a warrior’s grip. Though confused by the things she’d seen and heard that night, Raven felt proud. Her family’s honor was secure, and soon, they would have another occasion to celebrate. Raven vowed to herself that no matter what, one day she would stand on that platform and receive the same honors that her brother had won this night.

The ceremony over, the crowd around the platform began to break up. Raven moved forward, hoping to meet Skystream as he stepped down. However, as she drew closer, she saw him engaged in conversation with the Autobot. Patiently, she waited on the floor as they spoke, too far away to hear what they discussed. There was a touch at her elbow, and she turned away.

She was confronted by a mass of violet plating, and looked up, up into the visored face of Soundwave. “General Megatron would like some discussion with you, Decepticon Raven. Come with me.” She was about to go when there was another touch at her elbow. She turned again to see her brother this time.

“I’m afraid Raven and I must leave. I promised our progenitors we would return early, and Raven begins training with the Dragon in the morning. I wouldn’t want her to be late.” Skystream took her elbow and began to lead her firmly away. Looking back, Raven could see the Autobot engage Soundwave in conversation, and cast a glance over to Megatron, who wore a speculative look on his face. It was not an expression she appreciated.


Outside, they walked quickly through the deserted streets of Polyhex toward their family’s tenement building.

“Why did you pull me out of there?” Raven asked. “General Megatron wanted -”

He cut her off abruptly. “What Megatron wanted is something you are too young to get involved in,” Skystream snapped. He stopped suddenly and pulled her around so she was facing him. “Listen to me. Never let yourself be caught alone with Megatron. I cannot say more than that, but remember it. Never, never be alone with him.” He shook her slightly, trying to drive the message home. “Do you understand?”

She nodded solemnly. “I understand. I will not permit myself to be manipulated into being alone with him.”

He hugged her briefly. “Good. Now let’s get you home. I did promise to have you in early.”


Raven stared at the vast array of weapons laid out before her. The Dragon, Fire-Eyes looked at her impassively from across the display.

“Do you mean it?” Raven asked softly.

“I do. I will never say anything to you during the training that I do not mean, or anything that requires you to interpret. Therefore, I expect that you will ask no questions about my orders. They will be simple and direct. Now, pick a weapon that suites you.”

Raven handled the weapons one at a time. “May I ask a question while I pick?”

The Dragon nodded. “You may, if you think it won’t distract you.”

“It won’t. Why are you training me? You said last night you would find me a teacher. I never dreamed you would honor me by instructing me yourself.”

“Because the other generals are fools,” Fire-Eyes replied. “They see no use for a femme outside the home. I seem to be an exception to that rule, and I want you to be one as well. So I will train and sponsor you. And together, we will show them a femme’s place. Are you willing to do this?”

Raven hefted a pair of blasters, trying to judge their balance. “Yes,” she replied finally. “I’m willing.”

Fire-Eyes nodded. “Then there is one more thing we must talk about. Tournament is not a game, child, for all that the Autobots entertain themselves with it. It is real. The fighting is real, the injuries are real, and the dying is real. Every time you step into the ring, you face death. Can you accept that? That it might mean your death, even the first time out?”

Raven’s eyes locked with the Dragon’s. “I accept it. I will risk my life for the honor of Deceptica.”

The Dragon smiled. “Your brother spent time teaching you the codes, I think. It is a good place to start for a mech, but not for a femme. Why did you choose those weapons?”

Raven set one back on the table. “It’s light. I’m small compared to a mech, and a heavier weapon would tire me that much faster. Charged, it’s reliable, with a known number of shots in each cell. And I have equal facility with either hand, so I can use two without difficulty, I think.” She looked back at the Dragon. “Is that right?”

“You have a natural affinity for war, child. I see now why you have the desire. You are correct. Also, though the blasters are smaller than some a mech would carry, together they provide more than enough firepower. Or, if you time your shots carefully, you will still have shots to fire after your opponent is out. What will you use as backup?”

Raven picked up a pair of knives. “They don’t rely on energon, so I will have something to use anywhere.”

Fire-Eyes nodded. “You are correct again. Now, let me share with you one more thing. Then, we will truly begin. To be a femme in Tournament is to begin with a handicap. Mechs will cut you no slack, and they are most often bigger and stronger. But you have one advantage at least, from the beginning. Do you know what it is?”

Raven shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“Only be sorry if I have to repeat a lesson. You are faster, more agile than most mechs can ever hope to be. It remains to be seen if you can be more cunning, more devious, and more knowledgeable. The third I can give you. The others we will have to find with time. Now, set down your chosen weapons. First, you will learn all the others.”

Raven placed her weapons on the table, and gave herself over to the Dragon’s lecture.



Trumpets blared around the edge of the arena, startling Raven a bit from her reverie. She’d been reliving the previous night again; her brother’s pride as he gave her a gift for luck, battle armor, black as night, etched with feathers, and a matching helmet with a corona of black feathers standing up from the top. She adjusted the fit once more, still becoming comfortable with the heavier armor, designed for protection.

The Dragon strode up, her crested helmet under one arm, cape flaring behind her. She studied Raven intently for a moment, studying her presentation. “Remove your helmet,” she directed.

Raven pulled it off quickly and tucked it under her arm, trying to emulate her mentor’s stance as closely as possible.

Fire-Eyes chuckled. “I have seen others try to imitate me, child, but none so sincerely. You remember what has been arranged for your first fight?”

“A convicted criminal. He is guilty but permitted a last chance in Trial by Ordeal. I am to defeat him with as little show as possible; quickly and cleanly to show his guilt.” Her recitation was quick and sharp.

“Exactly. Quick and clean. Remember to salute the Autobots sitting in judgment. You are their instrument today.” The trumpets sounded again, and Fire-Eyes turned toward the entrance to the arena. “Come,” she said. “It’s time for you to begin.”

They strode into the arena, the lights dazzling Raven for a moment. She followed her mentor, still mimicking the proud tilt of the head and powerful, ground-covering gait. They stopped before the noble’s platform, Raven slightly behind and to the left of Fire-Eyes. She stood at attention, her eyes locked forward as the Dragon spoke.

“Noble Autobots, my Lord and Ladies, I offer for your approval the Decepticon Raven.” She took a turning step to the side, and Raven stepped forward.

“Nobles all, I submit myself to this Tournament for your approval, and pray you find me worthy.” Her voice echoed around the stadium, picked up and amplified by the invisible sound system. She settled her helmet on her head and raised her arms skyward. “Make your wishes known!” She let them cheer, building the excitement as she’s been taught, then called out again. “Bring on the challenger!”

The gates at the other end of the arena creaked open, and she could hear the scuffling sounds of the prisoner being forced out into the ring. She faced away from the commotion, focusing all her attentions on the sounds behind her. There was a thud as the convicted was flung to the ground, and retreating footsteps as the guards moved back into the waiting area below the stands. A cheer accompanied the sound of the prisoner rising, and Raven frowned slightly. The crowd was making enough noise to make doing this with style impossible. Fire-Eyes had pulled strings to arrange an easy first fight, and Raven resented it slightly, though she knew it was for her benefit. A win to get the crowd on her side would ensure her place in the Grand Armada, but she had hoped for a challenge to prove herself before the ruling party.

The sounds reaching her now were running footsteps, running toward her, and she smiled. She stood before the crowds, facing away from the on-coming bot, arms wide to show she held no weapons. As the bot came within steps of her, she gathered herself, and jumped, clearing the doomed mech’s head by the barest of margins. She came down behind him and grasped him by the unadorned head. She held him fixed in place and whispered in his ear.

“You were judged guilty. You should have gone with grace rather than clinging foolishly to life.”

“So you become the tool of the indolent ruling class? Think on what you do here, if you are truly a Decepticon,” he hissed back.

She grimaced angrily and locked his neck in her arm. “What say you, worthies? Shall he live or die?” She watched as the symbol came from the stands, turning with her victim so he could see. “As you command, my friends.” With a wrench, she snapped his neck and let his frame drop to the ground. Then she turned to face the judge’s platform and crashed a fist to her chestplate. “Thus I become your servant, My Lord.”

Applause welled from the stands, and Raven let it wash over her, soaking up the crowd’s adulation. She waved her hand to them, letting them cheer on and on. When the applause began to die down, she headed back under the stands, ready to receive the praise of her mentor.

She was surprised, then, when instead of lauding her, the Dragon cuffed her on the side of the head. “What?” she asked, rubbing her stinging cheek.

“What did I tell you?” Fire-Eyes demanded. “‘Quick and clean.’ That travesty was disgusting!”

“I need them,” Raven countered. “I need their favor to make it in the arena. I need for them to want me to win!”

“You need nothing from those sycophants. It is they who need you; to do the killing and shedding of blood they won’t.” Her tone softened. “Don’t be dismayed, young one. You have great talent and desire for the arena. But you still lack discipline It is something we will continue to study. Now watch your brother. See if you can find fault with his fighting.”

Raven looked back toward the ring, where her brother was saluting the Prince. “Who is he fighting?”

General Straxus stepped up beside them. “He’s matched against General Megatron.” He deep voice sounded ominous.

Raven looked at him. “Why do I think you have a bad feeling about this, My Lord?”

“General Megatron is known for using techniques others would shun. Your brother is an honorable warrior. I hope he fares well.” He stationed himself at the gate to the arena. Raven stepped up next to him, and he looked down at her, then over at Fire-Eyes. “You intend to let her stay?”

Fire-Eyes looked at Raven, then out into the ring. “He’s going to do it, then?” When Straxus nodded, the Dragon took Raven’s arm. “Come, child. You should not see this.” She tried to take Raven back into the bowels of the stadium.

Raven resisted, wrapping her hand around the bars. “What shouldn’t I see?” She looked from one leader to the other. “What’s going to happen?”

Straxus studied her. “She has passed Tournament,” he commented. “She is an adult now. Megatron has put on honor challenge to your brother, and unless your brother is very fortunate, he will die.”

“But why? What can my brother have done to upset the general?” Raven cried.

“It is about a femme, I understand. Megatron contends that Skystream took a femme from him, and he brought up the question of honor. Now they will fight to decide the matter,” Straxus explained.

“What is it with Megatron and femmes? I see him with a different one every time there is an event.”

“He uses them and leaves them like so much space dust, child,” Fire-Eyes explained. “He takes a perverse pleasure in seducing and tormenting them, then leaving them to manage as best they can. Your brother took you from that party before Megatron could get to you.”

“Then it’s my fault,” Raven breathed. She turned back to watch the fighting. “I should never have asked him to take me to the ceremony.”

“You had no way of knowing, young Raven,” Straxus reassured her. “It is your honor he defends today. Take what pride you can in that.”

She watched the battle with growing dread. It was becoming clear to her that, for all his skill, her brother was no match for Megatron. And that was without the fact that as soon as the opportunity arose, Megatron would cheat shamelessly. She saw the move come an instant before Skystream, and bit her lip to keep from crying out and distracting him. Still, it was an instant too late, as the blade Megatron had concealed slipped almost casually into Skystream’s abdomen. Raven pulled herself flat against the grating keeping her out of the ring. She watched helplessly as her brother’s frame slid slowly to the ground, and heard the cheers from the crowd, and they were raucous in her ears. Megatron stood before them, encouraging them, and she seethed. One day, she vowed, she would have revenge for this travesty. Somehow she knew, the time would come.

Straxus pressed something into her palm. “Your brother gave me this before he went into the ring. He referred to it as his ‘good fortune’ piece. I fear it failed him today. Perhaps it will serve you better.” Before she could summon an answer, he was gone, leaving Raven to study the badge of honor in her hand.



“I think that would be what you’d call my best memory of your father. I never personally served under him” Raven tipped her head back against the wall, helmet clanging softly on the wall. “Blast this thing,” she muttered, pulling it off to reveal short, dark synth-hair. She set the headgear on the floor, and Velocity studied it out of the corner of her optic. It wasn’t what Raven has described, featuring two sets of backswept brown and gold feathers rather than a corona of black ones. Raven saw her looking and smiled.

“This one is from my rebuild. I do not know what ever became of the armor my brother gave me.” She chuckled softly. “Some days now I look in the mirror and wonder why an Autobot is looking back at me.”

“I know how that feels,” Velocity sympathized. “Things would be different if I’d been raised with the Decepticons. I wouldn’t be so damned unsure all the time.”

Raven let her head roll to look at the young femme next to her. “I think we have an advantage in having lived both sides, child. We know when we choose who to fight with exactly what we are fighting for, and exactly what we are fighting against. Knowledge is not always comfortable, but it is useful. You will have a clearer sense of purpose as you grow older.”

Vel was quiet a moment, pondering what Raven had said. “Will you tell me the rest of the story?”

“What is it you wish to hear? There is very little else I can recall about your father, in truth.”

“No. Not about him. I want to know how the Great War started, if you know. And did you ever get revenge on Megatron?”

“Ahhh. Well, as for those things, I think there is something I can recall, though it may not be what you expect to hear.” She was silent a moment, organizing thoughts of history she’d only so recently recalled. “As I remember it, the Great War began shortly after Megatron secured a place on the Great Council.....”


Wild parades ran through the streets of Polyhex, and Raven danced along with one between her barracks and the training center. She was still leaping and spinning as she entered the soft-packed ring, her feet coming down in the dirt and covering her boots. She saw Fire-Eyes standing in the archway and made her way over, still exalting in the Decepticons’ finest moment.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she exclaimed.

The Dragon regarded her gravely. “Megatron’s election to the Council? No. I don’t think it’s wonderful at all. Megatron is too bent on dominion to let this opportunity go by. I fear we will be at war with the Autobots soon. And what of your revenge? Why do you suddenly favor Megatron so strongly?”

“I favor our having a say in our own governance,” she replied hotly. “I’ve been to Iacon; I’ve seen their luxury. Single families there have more space than four families put together in Vilnacron. Why should we not be equals?”

Fire-Eyes shook her head. “Do you believe the Autobot Princes will give up that much of their power? It is the only thing protecting them. If forced, they will fight, and there are more of them than us.”

“I just want to be able to give more to my family when I have one than my progenitors were able to give to me. They always wanted to give us more, but there was nothing, and the Autobots waste more than we will ever have. And I don’t like Megatron, nor do I trust him. But someone has to make the first move, and he’s done it. And he’s certainly capable of leading the Grand Armada.”

“Do you think the other generals will be so eager to get in line behind him? I know I will not, nor do I think Straxus will, either. So there are twice as many forces to oppose him, without even considering the Autobots,” Fire-Eyes pointed out.

“Would you really fight against him?” Raven asked. “Do you want to continue to be a plaything of the bloated upper-class?”

“Now you’re just repeating his drivel. Run the obstacle course until you have an original thought,” the Dragon instructed.

Raven was half-way through the first lap before she realized Fire-Eyes hadn’t said which side she would support.



“She was right. The War started not long after, and we were, in the beginning, victorious. The Autobot Princes hadn’t trained for serious fighting in vorns, and the Decepticons were a ready-made, standing army. All we needed was someone to point us in the right direction. And for a long time, that person was Megatron. He led us to victory after victory, and everyone got used to ignoring his excesses....”



Raven looked around at the lavish decorations. Another victory celebration with yet another set of speeches extolling the courage of the Armada. And yet, in Polyhex, Raven had seen very little change, at least, very little for the better. There was certainly change for the worse. Rationing cut further into supplies every week, and more refugees poured into the Decepticon capital from the ravaged outlying districts. Raven still fought in the arena, and chafed at being so far from the real battle. Entertainment was all very well and good, but it seemed a waste to fight for amusement when a war raged not far away.

She watched from a shadowy corner, black cloak drawn about her to provide further concealment, as the festivities continued. Megatron appeared and spoke for a moment, clearly enthralling most with his slick oratory, then moving to greet individuals. But when an aqua femme Seeker called after him, Raven detached herself from the wall and joined the fringes of the crowd. She watched as the femme easily took down a larger opponent, then faced off with Megatron. To Raven’s surprise, the femme connected with a powerful kick. Whether it had been well-aimed or fortunate, Raven didn’t know. But she recognized the look in Megatron’s eyes as he studied the femme, and cringed inwardly when he ordered Starscream to bring her to his quarters. Between the things the Dragon and Straxus had told her, and the rumors that had floated around, Raven knew the femme was in over her head. And there was nothing Raven could do to stop it.

Later, she watched as Starscream escorted the femme to her fate, and then watched later still as Soundwave carried the battered form toward the infirmary. “You are the last,” Raven whispered. “Somehow, I will see to it. Perhaps he needs a lesson from a femme who knows not to bend to his wishes. But I promise you, little Whomever-You-Are, he will feel the fear and humiliation you felt this night.”


Another night, and another victory celebration. This time, Raven did not cling to the walls, but placed herself near the bottom of the Grand Stair, waiting for the grand entrance. And again there were the same platitudes about the honor of the fallen warriors. More warriors were falling in each battle as the Autobots became better and better at fighting. But now when Megatron stepped into the crowd, Raven was right there where she could greet him.

“Hail, Lord Megatron. It’s been some time since you’ve graced the arena with your presence.”

He turned to study her. “So, Raven. I’m pleased to see you still function. What are you doing lately?”

“Still fighting in the ring. You’ve neglected us, My Lord. You should be sitting in judgment of the bouts.” She let her optics lower then slide back up to his in a seductive gesture.

“There is the small matter of a war to fight, Lady. We must all make some sacrifices involving what we might... like to do.” She could swear he licked his lips.

“A mech can grow sick of war with nothing else to do, Lord. You should take some time to relax and enjoy just being alive. Few enough can, nowadays.” Raven wanted to purge her fuel tanks, but she kept a smile plastered to her face.

He seemed to consider her statement, and its implied offer. “Perhaps you are right. I suppose you know a number of... relaxation techniques?”

Now her smile was openly inviting. “I have been told I could be very relaxing, though, truthfully, those who said it have no way of knowing.”

He was close to drooling now. “Well, would you consider sharing this relaxation with me? In my quarters?”

She let her head tilt, assessing. “Perhaps, a little later in the evening. There are so many others I wish to speak with in attendance tonight.”

He brushed a finger across her cheek. “Then I look forward to seeing more of you later.” With that, he turned and walked away.

The Dragon came up to her as Megatron departed. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” she asked.

“I have a pretty good idea,” Raven answered. “I’ll let you know if it works.”


The corridor was dim, and she could barely make out the pair standing guard at Megatron’s door until she was on top of them. She arranged her cape with care. “I’m expected,” she informed them loftily. One nodded to the other, and the doors opened to reveal Soundwave. He seemed surprised to see her, at least for him, though his voice revealed nothing.

“Should you be here, Lady Raven?”

She stepped in confidently. “Certainly. Lord Megatron and I intend to discuss...relaxation.”

“You are certain about this?” Soundwave asked. “Your brother...”

“My brother is many-vorns’ dust, Soundwave. I know what I am doing.” She stepped further into the room, and after a moment, he turned to leave.

A voice called from an open doorway. “Is that you, Raven? Come in.”

She approached the open door and saw Megatron resting in an oilbath. _Probably his favorite place to set up an ambush,_ she thought. Casually, she leaned against the door. “Starting without me?”

“Just getting it warmed up.” He leered at her. “Why don’t you join me?”

Raven shook her head. “Can’t. I’m filthy. I’d leave a ring on your beautiful tub.” Her look in return was appraising. “Why don’t you join me out here?”

He smirked and stood, letting her see him in full glory. “Why don’t I, then?”

She slid a few steps back into the main room, giving herself space. “You have a lot of space here,” she commented idly. “More than most.”

“I find uses for it,” he replied advancing on her. “So what did you have in mind this evening?”

Raven backed up against the edge of a huge desk, and hiked herself up on it. “I keep imagining you working, slaving, right here at this desk. I’m sure no one knows how much...effort...you put into everything.”

He kept advancing. “And you’d like to know for yourself about this...effort?”

It was murder to wait for the right instant, but Raven knew she had one chance at this. One chance to succeed, or else become another statistic. “I really want to know,” she whispered. She watched him nearly charge her, the, when the moment was perfect, she lashed out with one foot to catch him right at his jutting interface. He reeled back and bent over, stunned, and she took her next chance, launching a kick at his head. Already disoriented and in pain, he spun and fell, face to the carpet.

Raven was on him in a flash, pinning his arms with her knees, and letting the weight of her body hold him down. She summoned a blaster from subspace, the same blaster her brother had given her vorns ago, and pressed it to the back of his head, letting him hear the whine as it charged.

“How does it feel to be the victim?” she hissed. “How does it feel to know you can die at my pleasure?”

“Get off me, you fool, before I have you killed.” He struggled, and she pressed the barrel closer to his head.

“No, no, no. One word in a raised voice, and I’ll shoot. The guards won’t investigate. I’m sure they hear much stranger things that a little crackle like this thing would make.” She regarded him though narrowed optics. “I should do it anyway. You deserve to die.”

Megatron played for time. “And what have I done to so offend you?”

“Aside from killing my brother in cold blood? Aside from treating femmes like so much garbage to be disposed of when their used up? Nothing. Maybe I’m just crazy and want you dead.” She twisted the end of the barrel against his scalp.

“Femmes have no place in battle. They exist only for pleasure,” he insisted. “And your brother died in the ring. He knew the risks, as do you”

“Funny thing to say when a femme has a gun to the back of your head. You cheated in the fight against my brother. He was defending my honor, and you slaughtered him. What else am I supposed to do?”

“So you’ll kill me, and someone else will kill you for it. At that rate, we may as well go back to being slaves for the Autobots again.” He shifted uncomfortably against her weight. “Truce. Now get off me.”

“No. I don’t trust you.” She shifted more weight to her knees, pinning his arms down harder.

“I’m naked and unarmed. Surely you think enough of your skills to be able to defend yourself?” he goaded.

“It’s you I don’t think much of, not myself.” But she shifted slightly and pulled the gun back a bit. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You probably can’t. But I won’t kill you as long as your interesting me, and oddly enough, your conversation lacks very little.”

She scoffed slightly. “Probably the first time you’ve said that to a femme.” She stood slowly and back away.

Megatron picked himself up and sat in a chair. “Fight for me,” he said suddenly.

“What do you think this is, an energon bar? No.”

He shook his head. “Not like that. Join my unit. You are probably the most respected of the Dragon’s pupils. You can convince a sizable number to join my ranks with you.”

“I owe everything I am to the Dragon. How can I leave her?” Raven pointed out.

“You’ll probably get plenty of chances to shoot me in the back,” he offered. Slowly he stood and crossed the room to her. “If that’s what you really want to do.” He was close enough now to remove her helmet, then, slowly, he kissed her. “I didn’t think it was.”

She turned her head away. “No.”

He turned her face back. “‘No,’ what? ‘No, I don’t want to kill you,’ or ‘No, don’t kiss me.’”

She stepped back. “Don’t kiss me. Don’t touch me. Don’t make it harder for me to hate you.”

“And why are you trying to hate me? Why bother? Why not just do what you want to do?” He studied her intently.

“Because you can’t keep it in your armor!” she snapped, then flushed. She hadn’t wanted him to know she was interested, but now it was out. “I’ve seen the battered frames carried out of here. Do you think I want to join them?”

“I don’t think you would. You seem like a femme who could hold her own. And maybe I was never interested before in ‘keeping it in my armor,’ as you as charmingly put it.” He reached out and pulled her close. “Do you still want to hate me?” he asked.

“Would it matter?” she asked back.


Later, Soundwave came in on silent feet, expecting to collect Raven and take her to the infirmary. When he didn’t find her in any of the corners, he stole a glance at the recharge booth. She lay there, in peaceful recharge, Megatron’s arm wrapped around her waist.



“You’re a fool!” Fire-Eyes shouted.

Raven stuffed another weapon into her pack. “That’s entirely possible,” she replied.

“You don’t expect him to be faithful to you, do you?”

“Of course not. I expect him to be so busy between the war and me that he has no time to bother other femmes. It’s the best I can do.”

“You don’t have any feelings for him, then?” the Dragon questioned.

“Only when I’m with him,” she sighed. “He infuriates me a good deal of the time, but it seems like the best way to protect the others. Be on the watch for the aqua femme. If she’s good enough to knock Megatron around when he’s watching for it, she should be able to hold her own anywhere. She just needs some confidence in herself.”

“All that from a brief glance at a victory celebration? Did I train that into you as well?”

“Anything I’ve done well has been due to your training. Now, I need to go my own way, and do my own thing.” She set down the pack and hugged Fire-Eyes. “Thank you. I could not have survived without you.”

“I was glad to be of help. And if any of my students wish to fight the Autobots...?”

Raven nodded. “I’ll watch out for them. Every bot is important to the cause. Honor to Deceptica.”

“Freedom to Deceptica,” the Dragon replied.

Raven smiled, shouldered her pack, and left the stadium.



Velocity leaned toward Raven, her optics shining. “Tell me more, Lady Raven. What else do you know of my father?”

“Well,” Raven began, “I--” She was stopped in mid-sentence by the door hailer. “Come,” she called, and the door slid open to reveal Sirius, Velocity’s older brother. Raven was startled to see a young Straxus looking back at her, his dark blue plating and angled wings clearly bearing the paternal stamp, if not its mirror image.

Sirius strode forward with purpose, his ruby optics burning with youthful intensity. Raven found herself wondering if, when the time came, Sirius would follow his father’s path and become a conqueror, or follow what he had learned from being raised in Optimus Prime’s formidable shadow. “Good afternoon, Lord Sirius.”

The young mech dipped his chin once. “And to you, Lady Raven.” He stepped up to Velocity, taking her delicate forearm in his powerful hands. “Vel, I came to tell you that Maman is on her way here.”

Looking trapped, Velocity pulled away from her brother. “Why? I’m only talking with Her Ladyship.”

“You know how Maman feels about that.”

Vel drew herself up like the Decepticon aristocrat she was. “I wasn’t aware that simply talking was a crime.” She deliberately turned her back on Sirius and resumed sharpening her blade.

With a fluid motion that made Raven gasp, Sirius took two long strides and caught his sister’s elbow in his grip, whirling her around to face him. Brother and sister shared a long, crimson stare, in a silent battle of wills that Raven supposed must have rivaled those of their parents. “Come. With. Me,” Sirius said, his voice low and dangerous, laced with the implications of Razorsharp’s displeasure at finding her daughter in the company of the hybrid femme.

“Fine.” Vel shook Sirius off, then subspaced her weaponry and nodded toward Raven. “I apologize, Lady Raven, but as my brother says, I must go.” She glanced at the deck, then raised her optics to Raven again. “I appreciate all you have told me. It means more to me than you can imagine.”

Raven inclined her head gracefully. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Velocity. Perhaps we will talk more, on an occasion when you--ah, do not have a pressing engagement.” She nodded to Sirius as perfunctorily as he had to her. “Honor to Deceptica.”

“Honor and glory,” both of the young Transformers responded automatically, Sirius shooting Raven an annoying look as he realized what he has said. Turning toward the door, he reached to tap the sensor plate, but the double doors whooshed open to reveal the petulant harlequined visage of their mother, the Lady Razorsharp.

“Well.” Razorsharp looked her children up and down. “Fancy meeting you two here.” She gave a slight jerk of her head towards the door, the graceful swaths of metal on her helmet swaying a little with the motion. “Go now. And as for you,” she warned, skewering her youngest with an icy ruby stare, “we will discuss this later.”

After the children were gone, Razorsharp turned her attention to Raven. “And just what do you think you were doing?”

Taken aback, Raven shrugged. “I was having a conversation with Velocity. She’s a bright child, but she seems lonely.”

“‘Lonely?’” Razorsharp uttered a short humorless laugh. “How could she be possibly be lonely here?”

“Oh, I don’t mean lonely for companionship.” Raven pulled her weapon from subspace and clicked the safety on, inspecting it for wear. “I meant that... Well, it must have been hard, raising all three of them by yourself, without the former Governor’s help.”

Razorsharp shook her head. “It was, but I had help from the few friends we made here. I highly doubt Velocity misses her father; she barely knew him.”

 With a chilly smile of her own, Raven raised a warning finger. “Don’t be so sure of that, Your Ladyship.”

“Oh?” Razorsharp crossed her arms, fixing Raven with a pointed ruby gaze. “I’ve spent the last few Terran years trying to undo the damage he did to his own family. I don’t need you coming along behind me, glorifying his sadistic tendencies to my impressionable daughter.”

“There is no point in vilifying your former mate. Our life before the Cybertronian Wars was harsh, and shaped those of us that survived the arena. He only did what was necessary to survive, as did all of us.” Raven casually holstered her weapon and leaned against the wall.

“Do not speak to me of survival. I starved for centuries in the slums rather than die. I KNOW what those vorns did to my people. And who are you with your Autobot symbol to preach to me on the plight of the Decepticons? Aren't we your sworn enemy?” Razor challenged.

Raven barked a short, mirthless laugh. “Then I am my own worst enemy as well. You don't seem to understand. I KNOW your feelings for Deceptica. I felt them as well. I fought for the glory of my legion and people in the arena just as you did. I carried every scar with pride because it had been won in battle. And what did that buy us? Nothing. That which was Deceptica is scattered to the solar winds, and our high places are cast down. Treasure what you have from that time; your children, your memories. Do not let them be blackened by hatred. Bury your dead and be done with them.”

Razor's optics flashed fire. “Stop it! Stop saying that!”

Raven's expression didn't change, but inside she was ringing with mocking laughter. “You can't admit it, can you? You can't bring yourself to admit the all-powerful Straxus could be dead!”

Razor's hands clenched. “I know His Excellency is dead! His memory, however, is not to be tarnished with your impudence!”

Raven took a half-step towards Razor. “You can't even say his name, for Primus' sake!” She took another half-step. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it. Say his name. You can't, can you?” She smiled thinly. “Say it!”

Razor bristled. “I will not listen to your mockery! I will not-”

Raven raised her fists, her body bent with the exertion of her cry. “SAY IT!”

The word exploded from Razor's vocoder, plea, indictment, and mourning. “STRAXUS!!”

Raven leaned back against the wall, satisfied. “You bury your grief so deep that not even you know it is there. Grieve. Cry. Shout to the heaven's that it's not fair. But do it. Do SOMETHING! Before the madness of it claims your mind and you fall into the same darkness I only just crawled out of. I promise, this world, with all it's pains, is a hundred times the better.”

Methanol dripped down Razor's cheeks, streaming down her chin to splash silently on the deck. “I...I don't know what it is I need to do. He was a monster. He does not deserve my tears.” She shook her head. “Can I grieve for something that caused millions pain and fear?”

“Can you not grieve for the mech who gave you beautiful, talented children? Remember the happiness, forget the pain, or do not dwell on it. And gift your progeny with the memory of a father who loved them and wanted them” She sighed heavily. “Such was not my fate. I have none to go on after me, and old memories of another life when nights are cold.”

Razor smiled faintly to herself, nodding in agreement. “And there are many such nights on Cybertron.” She stood, wiping her tears away. “Even in Autobot City, in the place the Earthlings call Oregon, the nights are long...and lonely.”

“You're life is now, in this place, with these beings. Do not pass up any opportunities for friends...or companions.”

Looking up sharply at Raven's words, Razor studied the amethyst optics for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I will... think on your words, Lieutenant.”

“Do so. You will be the wiser for it.” She glanced at the chronometer. “I must go. Prime expects me for a briefing. “Hail Lady Razorsharp.” She collected her helmet and slipped swiftly from the room.

“Hail, Lady Raven,” Razor whispered after her, hugging her elbows to her as if chilled.


Epilogue


 Raven stepped onto the rooftop of the Command Center, nearly a Terran mile above the steel thoroughfares of Iacon. The stars, diamond-bright, glittered far above her head, and a slight, chill breeze ruffled the plumes on her helmet as she approached the railing. Leaning against the iron bar, she spoke in a tone that was almost conversational.

“You're not still angry with me, are you?”

 Melting out of the shadows, Razorsharp came to stand beside the hybrid femme. “No, I am not. Velocity explained what happened between you two today.” She leaned against the railing as well, picking Mars out by habit. “I am thankful that you were honest with her.”

Raven stared at the street far below, watching the swirl of traffic. “I saw no point in trying to sweeten the truth. She asked to know of her father. I merely gave her a glimpse of his real self. Or, at least, the mech I knew.”

Nodding, Razorsharp let out a long sigh. “And it was good to hear the Dragon's name again. I had not thought about her in a very long time.”

“How do you know of Fire-Eyes?” Raven turned to fix Razor with a piercing amethyst gaze. “Were you one of the ones she trained after I left?”

“Yes. When I was sent to train for Tournament, she was my teacher. I learned more from her in a quartex than I ever learned from all those vorns with Starscream.” Razor said the name of the rogue Seeker as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Her positronic brain spinning with possibilities, Raven took a moment to sort out what Razor was saying. “You trained with Starscream, then went to Tournament under the tutelage of the Dragon?” She scanned Razor intently, and Razor backed up a step instinctively, feeling as if Raven could see into her very soul. “When did you begin your training?”

“Shortly before the beginning of the Great War.” Razor turned around and folded her arms, leaning her back against the retaining wall around the perimeter of the building. “After Tournament, Megatron left to chase the Autobots to Earth, and I was very happy to see him go.”

Raven, her instincts telling her to keep going, pressed further. “And why is that?”

Tears forming in her optics again, Razor turned away to look at the sparkling city, the moisture giving every point of light a dazzling corona. “You were too late to save me, Raven. But just knowing someone dared to resist him, that makes all the pain worthwhile.”

“It was you?!”

Razor nodded. “I was cocky and brave that night... and foolish.”

“And betrayed.” Raven sucked down a deep breath of Cybertron’s thin atmosphere. “I wasn’t certain how you’d feel about me, knowing about my relationship with Megatron. And I was certain that Velocity would relate back to you everything I’d told her.” Raven turned her gaze back out to the sparkling lights of Iacon. “You must wonder how I could stand to be near someone you must have loathed.”

“You did it for the protection of others. That, I understand very well,” Razorsharp replied. “And you became... accustomed to him, I suppose?”

“That is certainly true. I became accustomed to his moods, his ideals. He really wanted what he though was best for Deceptica. And when things went our way, when we would win an important battle, or a key concession from the Council, he was very easy to get along with.” She smiled at the memory.

“And when things didn’t go our way?” Razor asked.

“I took to raiding Autobot outposts. Anything to be away from base while he ranted and raved.”

Razor laughed in spite of herself. “That must have gotten the Autobots’ goats, to have a victory capped with border raids.”

Raven smiled slightly. “It improved his mood, as well. Can’t afford to waste a resource like a victory. Have to get double duty out of everything.”

“Relationships as well as resources, I suppose,” Razor suggested smoothly.

Raven was silent a moment, voices from the past echoing in her audio sensors. Finally, she offered, “I did say something about cold nights, did I not? We all desired some companionship then, did we not? Someone to care, and notice if we didn’t return from a mission? Someone to go to the Promenade and mourn for us...” Her chronometer beeped, and she glanced at it. “I must go. Be well, Lady.” She turned to go back inside.

“Honor to Deceptica,” Razor called.

Raven stopped. “What’s left of it. Honor and glory.” She disappeared into the building.

Lady Razorsharp stared into the building long after the other femme had gone, then turned to stare back out at the night. What was left of it, indeed.

*The End*


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