#killstreak

Killstreak blinked his optics for the first time, taking in the world around him. As far as he could tell, he was in a cave, but there was something wrong with it, something that assured him he wasn’t where he was meant to be.

Had Killstreak been a modern Cybertronian, his internal feed would have scanned the plants around him and informed him that he was on a planet billions of lightyears away from his own. It was a planet where organic life grew freely and the creatures weren’t made of living metal, but being less evolved than modern Cybertronians had its drawbacks, which brought Killstreak to another question; who was he?

After two more blinks, Killstreak looked around the cavern properly, taking his first steps in the world. He knew he was a powerful killing machine, craving war and violence instinctively. He also innately knew that he was a Predacon, but what did that mean? He was fully grown and should have had some memories of his life, but when he searched his memory banks, there was nothing; just a blank processor waiting to be filled.

On the opposite side of the cavern laboratory, Killstreak saw two other Predacons stepping out of their own test tubes, clearly going through the same processes as him. Words formed on his internal feed as he tried to figure out his companions. Brothers? Enemies?

No matter which they were, Killstreak felt an instinctual urge to battle them for dominance. They were of little concern however, as another Cybertronian stepped forward, though he was certainly not like the Predacons in the room.

“Predacons,” The bot addressed them, “I am your Creator, Shockwave. You have been constructed to serve our leader, Lord Megatron, and follow his orders to aid the Decepticon cause.”

Data started flooding Killstreak’s processor. Although he had never heard of the Decepticons or anything to do with them, he somehow knew a great deal about them. He glowered at Shockwave, certain that his Creator had implanted all the information Killstreak needed to know. Killstreak didn’t like that one bit; knowledge that hadn’t been earned was likely propaganda used to control those ignorant of anything else.

Despite his rage, Killstreak did not attack. Instead, he read his brethren’s body language, sensing that they would attack and do the work for him. He observed calmly as the other two Predacons lunged forward, attempting to close the gap between their creator in a battle of dominance.

Shockwave, having been prepared for every eventuality, including an attack from the brutish Predacons defended himself easily, holding them into place with inhibitor collars he had fitted around their necks. Once they were trapped, Shockwave looked expectantly at Killstreak, noting that he was calmer than the others and apparently more intelligent.

It was no surprise to the scientist, for in order to avoid a repeat of the incident that had happened with the so-called Predaking, the Predacons that he had chosen this time were of different time periods. Shockwave hypothesized that the two who were created from remains older than Predaking’s would have slower processors and would be slightly weaker. He also theorised that the one created from remains that were younger than Predaking’s would keep the superior strength and firepower, but would also be more suspectable to reason and logic.

Once Shockwave was certain that all three Predacons knew that he was in control, he released the other two from stasis and began talking in the straightforward manner he had been before, each sentence a clipped statement that offered no room for misunderstanding; he was a bot of science and logic, and as such had little time to waste on unimportant words.

“Predacons, you have been assigned the mission of destroying the remaining Autobot forces.”

As Shockwave stated that, the relevant information presented itself on Killstreak’s internal feed.

“Under Lord Megatron’s orders, you are to be given names. You two shall be Sky Lynx and Darksteel. You,” Shockwave glanced at the more powerful bot, “are Killstreak.”

While the three Predacons supposed that the names were so they could better obey orders, they were wrong; Megatron had ordered that they be given names so they would not fall prey to the same hubris as Predaking, making them less likely to try and depose Megatron as the true Decepticon leader.

Killstreak tested the name in his processor, then opened his mouth to try and sound it out, only managing to produce a ferocious growl instead.

Shockwave observed the behaviour, apparently feeling the need to comment on it, “Yes Killstreak, you know by now that you have the ability to communicate as modern Cybertronians do. However, it will take some time for your vocal synthesizers to fully form. You will also be able to transform from your root modes when the time comes, but you will only do so under our Lord’s orders.”

Killstreak growled again, though this time he was not trying to speak; the growl was merely a warning that when he got the ability to transform, he would do so, whenever the mood so took him.

“In the meantime, you have your first command,” Shockwave continued, ignoring the growl of Killstreak’s vocaliser and the furious lash of his tail. If the Predacon wished to attack, so be it; Shockwave would handle it.

“You are to report to the Nemesis for training with your new military commander, Starscream.”

Sky Lynx and Darksteel shared a look with one another, silently debating whether they should try attacking again. Killstreak bounded powerfully over to them, breathing a short burst of flame and then standing over them. To their credit, they didn’t cower, but nor did they challenge him. For now, Killstreak had proved his dominance; the two would no longer look to each other for their plans but to Killstreak.

Shockwave let the altercation occur unhindered by himself; he was simultaneously observing the Predacons’ actions as a scientist whilst allowing the three to display some of their natural behaviours. It was better they form their pack ranks quickly, instead of battling for dominance aboard the Nemesis.

The three Predacons stood proudly during their inspection by Lord Megatron, his scrutinizing glare examining them for all their worth. Even though the Decepticon leader wasn’t a Predacon, he was clearly powerful and not to be trifled with; any battle with him was sure to be gruelling, and until Killstreak was more certain of himself, he didn’t need to pick mindless fights.

Megatron hummed in thought, addressing Shockwave when he next spoke, “And these three will be more obedient than the last one?”

“That is yet to be determined, my Liege,” Shockwave answered honestly, having no way to ensure the Predacons’ loyalty. “Until we can trust them to obey, I have fitted them with collars to prevent any unnecessary damage.”

Megatron sneered. Although he knew the inhibitor collars were a wise move, he didn’t care for them. Let the Predacons battle his Decepticon armada; if they did, they would be turned into scrap metal. Still, the collars would serve one fundamental purpose; they would allow Megatron to test Starscream’s dedication to the Decepticon cause.

“Starscream,” Megatron called, awaiting his lieutenant’s hasty arrival.

“Yes, my Liege,” Starscream rushed forward from where he had been hiding in the tunnel behind Megatron, avoiding the Predacons’ detection until then.

“You are to train these Predacons to serve the Decepticon cause,” Megatron commanded. “Do better than last time.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron. Of course,” Starscream answered obediently.

Admittedly, he was disheartened to have the grim task of training more of the primitive Predacons, who were far too brutish in nature for his tastes. However, since they were fitted with inhibitor collars, Starscream didn’t think the task would be wholly unmanageable; at least he would have a manner in which to control the unruly beasts this time. If he had been provided with an inhibitor collar for that dim-witted Predaking, perhaps things would have worked in his favour.

Megatron turned to leave with Shockwave at his heels, but he growled one more order before leaving, taking grim satisfaction in doing so. “Shockwave, remove the inhibitor collars. Our new allies should be free to do as they wish, don’t you think.”

“Master!” Starscream squealed, running towards Megatron. “Master, no! The Predacons are brutes! They need to be controlled! Don’t remove the collars, I implore you.”

Megatron turned around, smacking Starscream to the floor, “You will do as I say, you incompetent whelp, and this time you will succeed.”

Starscream cowered as Megatron closed the gap between them, bending down threateningly towards his lieutenant. “Consider this your final warning.”

With that, Megatron and Shockwave returned to the interior of the Nemesis, leaving Starscream alone with the new Predacons for the first time. Starscream hurried to scramble to his feet, just in time to hear the crash of three inhibitor collars hitting the deck.

He turned and examined the three Predacons, wondering whether they would be as intelligent as Predaking was, or whether Shockwave might have altered their coding to limit their intellect into a more primal mode; for his sake, Starscream hoped that Shockwave had.

While Starscream observed the Predacons, they examined him in return. Killstreak tilted his draconic head this way and that, examining Starscream from every angle. Compared to him, Starscream was minuscule, his slender frame offering little in means of protection, but perhaps a great deal in means of agility. Megatron and Shockwave had proved themselves to be threats with their slightly bigger frames, but Killstreak was confident that if it came to a battle, he would be able to defeat them, though he would likely sustain injuries; Starscream on the other hand, didn’t appear to be a threat.

Despite the fact that Starscream was clearly a weaker bot, Killstreak didn’t find him to be inferior. Instead, he assumed that Starscream must have a great processor capable of plotting superior strategies that had led him to his high-ranking position within the Decepticon armada.

Killstreak reserved any more thoughts as Starscream cleared his vocaliser to speak, pacing as he did. “Predacons, I am your commanding officer, Starscream, and you primitive lifeforms will treat me with the respect I deserve, or suffer the consequences!”

During his pacing, Starscream had reached a panel on the wall and from it, he pulled out an electric prod, capable of shocking even those with the thickest armoured plating. Killstreak didn’t fear the prod, despite being informed of its power outage by his processing unit. Instead, he admired the way that Starscream had so casually retrieved it, never running which would have caused the Predacons to attack on instinct; by offering one hand and arming the other, Starscream had made himself respectable to Killstreak at least.

Sky Lynx and Darksteel, on the other hand, didn’t care for their new ‘master’ and their distaste showed on their faceplates, though Starscream didn’t recognise the expression as he continued his speech.

“I say jump, you say- ARGHH!” Starscream let out a high-pitched scream as Sky Lynx pounced, landing on Starscream’s chassis and clamping his jaws around the arm that held the electric prod.

Darksteel on the other hand let out a deep rumbling laugh that sounded like two metal plates scraping together since his vocal synthesizer had yet to fully form. He joined his companion, circling Starscream and meandering ever closer with each lap around him.

Killstreak watched momentarily, allowing the small bot a chance to prove his strength. Alas, when it became clear that Starscream couldn’t defend himself against the Predacons, Killstreak decided to step in, feeling an innate desire to protect the commander like he was Killstreak’s very own mate.

Killstreak roared majestically, ordering Sky Lynx and Darksteel to end their attack. The two bots were already forgetting their place, lashing their tails angrily back and forth as they considered combining their strength to battle Killstreak.

Thinking faster than the two Predacons ever could, Killstreak span in a tight circle, using his mighty tail to knock them into the wall, denting the ship in the process. Starscream scrambled up, using the electric prod liberally on both Sky Lynx and Darksteel.

“YOU. STUPID. BEASTS.” Starscream raged indignantly, repeatedly striking them, having apparently not learned anything from his time with Predaking. “How dare you attack your commanding officer!”

Killstreak grinned, though it appeared to be more of a leer in his beast-mode; so, the small bot had some fight in him after all.

“And you,” Starscream turned his attention glaringly upon Killstreak. “You should have aided me sooner!”

With that, Starscream struck Killstreak with the electric prod, and pain coursed through his circuitry with each excruciating second that Starscream held it in place.

Finally, Killstreak was released from his torment, and as he recovered, he couldn’t help admiring Starscream for having the backbone to challenge him.

‘Yes!’ Killstreak thought proudly. ‘I shall protect you, for you are far too adorable to leave defenceless.’

At his inner monologue, Killstreak found his tail wagging lazily, the first sign that he had chosen someone worthy of his attention. Sky Lynx and Darksteel tried to get up, but Starscream attacked them viciously, using the electric prod with no remorse; it would be a long time before he looked at any Predacon with anything more than contempt.

Sky Lynx, Darksteel, and Killstreak stood in the middle of the Grand Canyon awaiting Starscream to arrive and give them new orders. It was the first time that they had left the Nemesis for more than a short flight, and the Predacons were fascinated with the organic terrain they stood upon.

Eager to finally have some room to brawl, Sky Lynx and Darksteel barrelled into one another, testing their strength and agility in a game known to all Predacons. Though Killstreak longed to join the skirmish, he was their leader, not their friend, and he had an image to maintain; no matter how fun crashing into rocks or clashing against a foe’s metal was, Killstreak began the more important task of mapping his environment, scenting the air and occasionally letting out a screech for the purpose of echolocation.

In the midst of his exploration, Killstreak scented the air, his forked glossa tasting his environment. When he had done so previously, all he had scented was the arid expanse around him, filled with rocks, sand, and dirt. Now, his olfactory senses picked up on large quantities of metal, cheap oil, and low-grade energon; he surmised that there was a group of Decepticon Vehicons coming his way and growled to let his pack know.

Sky Lynx and Darksteel ended their brawl, eager for actual enemies to battle, even though they were supposed to be on the same side as the Decepticons. Killstreak gnashed his thangs irritably; it seemed that his two underlings would never learn their place.

Yet, instead of attacking the whelps, Killstreak scented the air again, detecting something else among the Vehicons with his superior senses. He realised with relish that it was a scent he knew. High-grade energon, indicating an equally high rank, the invigorating smell of clean water, the kind which only came from the Nemesis’ wash racks, and fresh wax which had been meticulously buffed into Cybertronian metal; it was the delectable smell of Starscream, and it brought Killstreak out of his previously annoyed state.

The Predacons looked up to find a team of twenty flying Vehicons, comprised of jets and helicopters alike, led by Starscream, sleek as ever in his superior Seeker jet mode.

Starscream somersaulted in the air, showing off as he transformed mid-flip, landing gracefully on the ground in a manner Killstreak couldn’t help admiring. Predacons were strong and fast, but they were rarely graceful, unlike the evolved bot that stood before them. The Vehicons landed and transformed with less grace, preferring practicality over impressive entrances, like the obedient soldiers they were trained to be.

“Predacons,” Starscream addressed his charges distastefully, hating that he had to be associated with them in any manner.

Sky Lynx and Darksteel glared back at their ‘master’, equally displeased to be under his command. Killstreak watched Starscream in admiration, though he was careful to keep his stance ridged and military, giving Starscream the respect he deserved instead of displaying his adoration for all to see.

“Today is a training exercise for you to learn how to scrap every Autobot you see. Take down all twenty Vehicons, and you might stand a chance against those accursed Autobots.”

The Vehicons looked to one another uncertainly, evidently having not known that they were to be used as cannon fodder.

“You have 15 solar-minutes to complete this task. Vehicons, if you escape with your lives, you will be rewarded for your service to the Decepticon cause, by being allowed to carry on your pitiful existence. Am I clear?”

There was a chorus of, “Yes, Commander Starscream,” followed by salutes from the Vehicons, but it wasn’t their subservience Starscream sought and he glowered at the Predacons before him.

Sky Lynx and Darksteel communicated with each other through grunts, glad their vocalisers hadn’t fully developed yet so their conversation could go on undetected by any non-Predacons. The pair were considering ending the exercise early by scrapping Starscream.

Killstreak growled irritably and bounded over to them, pushing their heads to the floor with his mighty forepaws, making them bow to their new Commander. In turn, Killstreak also lowered his own head, and Starscream grinned darkly; he still despised the Predacons, but perhaps there was hope for them yet, or rather, at least there was hope for Killstreak.

Under Killstreak’s claws, Darksteel rumbled an insult that meant something along the lines of teacher’s pet, had the Predacons had the equivalent to a teacher anyway. Killstreak dipped his head lower, showing off his fangs which dripped with corrosive lubricant; he would not be tested by mere underlings and after his warning display, Darksteel fell resentfully quiet once again.

The exercise proved far too easy for the Predacons who had successfully dismantled the Vehicons despite their superior numbers. It had also been of great enjoyment to both Sky Lynx and Darksteel who had delighted in separating helms from bodies in a massacre that stained the ground with energon. Even Killstreak had taken great pleasure in the so-called training, having had a chance to use his corrosive venom for the first time, watching it eat through metal and circuitry alike. Evidently, the killing spree left Killstreak sated, though his blood-lust would likely re-emerge sooner rather than later; after all, there was nothing more thrilling than the hunt.

Starscream stared disgustedly at the carnage around him. A small part of him had hoped that the Predacons would fail their assignment, if only to prove that Shockwave’s experiment was a waste of time and resources. Then again, it was probably best that the Predacons had succeeded, for Starscream was certain that he would be blamed if they failed in any of their tasks; after all, Megatron seemed to blame him for everything, but what else could be expected from such a short-sighted fool?

After nudging a disembodied head with his pede, Starscream approached the Predacons, holding his servos behind his back in his usual military pose; many assumed he held such a position because it looked professional, but for the most part, Starscream always hid his servos because it gave him a chance to arm himself discreetly if he ever had cause to.

Starscream cleared his vocaliser, glancing from the corpses that surrounded him to the Predacons. Although they had done a good job, they would need to be the very best for Megatron to approve of them and as such, Starscream decided not to praise their work; after all, nobody had ever praised him in his long life, why did such prehistoric beasts deserve any better?

“You call that an accomplishment? I gave you fifteen solar-minutes. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN DONE IN FIVE!”

Sky Lynx hissed while Darksteel growled; unlike before, they now wished that they could speak, if only to tell Starscream how they would dismember him in the future. Killstreak merely lashed his tail impatiently; he had little time for his subordinates’ antics.

“If it were up to me,” Starscream went on, half-yelling, “I would scrap the lot of you. Flashy aerial antics and foolish manoeuvres do not win a war, and when I tell Meg- AARGH!”

Starscream screamed in fear as Sky Lynx and Darksteel bounded towards him, ready to attack once again, but before they even made contact Killstreak was there, standing in front of his master and protecting him with a wall of fire.

Despite the intimidation tactics’ success, Killstreak had had enough of his two underlings who had clearly not paid enough attention to his previous outburst; evidently, intimidation wasn’t enough, and he needed a stronger deterrent to make sure they would stay in line.

Rearing up on his hind legs, Killstreak crashed down, slashing at Sky Lynx and Darksteel’s faces, his claws tearing through the metal, leaving them both with three deep cuts. Sky Lynx howled, rubbing his face against the ground to staunch the bleeding. Darksteel however was less focused on the pain and kept swinging his helm violently from side to side, trying to see through an optic that Killstreak had slashed the connecting wire to.

‘Good,’ Killstreak thought with a decisive snort. ‘Let this be a lesson to them. Perhaps I’ll let them be repaired on the ship if they bow down to me.’

Starscream stared in awe at Killstreak, who didn’t acknowledge him in return, too focused on his underlings; while they were injured and likely wouldn’t attack, it would be foolish to turn his back on them, just in case they acted in pitiful defiance or in a state of panic.

Starscream’s processor whirred into action as he considered the Predacon protecting him, re-evaluating him as an ally. ‘Killstreak obeys my commands. He respects me. With more time, he could even help me depose Megatron, making me the one true leader of the Decepticons.’

“Very good, Killstreak,” Starscream praised, getting up and brushing himself off.

Satisfied that Darksteel and Sky Lynx wouldn’t get back up without his permission, Killstreak finally looked round to Starscream, eager to be lauded by his Commander.

“You will be rewarded for protecting your Master.”

Killstreak wagged his tail enthusiastically, and Starscream raised his eyebrow-plates at the spectacle.

“Yes, well, ah, we should get back to the Nemesis, and I suppose we should take those ingrates back with us,” He gestured carelessly at the two injured Predacons

As an afterthought, Starscream commed Knockout, informing him that it would be his job to treat the Predacons.

“What?” Knockout asked dubiously over the comms. “I’m a medic, not a vet. I don’t know the first thing about treating Predacons.”

“Then learn,” Starscream responded harshly. “And send a clean-up crew down here to recover the offline. No point in wasting valuable materials.”

With that, Starscream ended the call, turning back to Killstreak. “Bring those two back to the ship, then come to my quarters; I have a new job for you.”

Though the flight back would be cumbersome whilst carrying Sky Lynx and Darksteel, Killstreak complied, ever loyal to his one and only master.

Once aboard the Nemesis, Killstreak found that he enjoyed his newfound reward. Under Starscream’s orders, Killstreak was to act as a personal bodyguard and protector to Starscream. Where Starscream went, Killstreak followed. When Starscream recharged, Killstreak sat outside his hab-suite, preventing others entry. When Starscream took a flight off the ship, Killstreak got the chance to stretch his wing rivets, constantly aware of his master’s safety.

While other Decepticons observed the pair with mild disdain or fear, Killstreak had never been happier. Starscream didn’t know it, but in ancient Predacon packs, ordering an underling to act as a protection detail was a show of trust and the original manner in which they chose their Conjunx Endurae. Naturally, Killstreak knew that this wasn’t Starscream’s manner of proposing anything more than an alliance, having used the ship’s computers to research modern Conjunx Ritus, but he was happy nevertheless.

Killstreak was also aware that his protection over Starscream didn’t put him in good standing with Sky Lynx or Darksteel, but the two hadn’t challenged him again since their previous uprising; Killstreak's show of power was enough to keep them in line.

As time marched on, Starscream grew more paranoid of an attack against him. It wasn’t anything new to him, after all, he had made a lot of enemies both Autobot and Decepticon, but for the first time, Starscream had someone to watch his back and he planned to use every tactical advantage in his arsenal to stay online. As such, he ordered Killstreak to meet him in his hab-suite, where he was certain his orders to the primitive Predacon would go unheard by those who might wish to dispose of him.

“Killstreak,” Starscream began majestically, only faltering when Killstreak wagged his tail enthusiastically, knocking over a desk in the process. “Stop that! I didn’t bring you in here to destroy my personal effects, you idiotic simpleton!”

Killstreak whined, sitting down so he wouldn’t cause any further damage.

“Good… That’s better,” Starscream mumbled awkwardly, unused to praising anyone. “I have a new command for you. While you have done an acceptable job of protecting me thus far, it has come to my attention that anyone could crawl through the vents and offline me during recharge. As such, you are no longer to separate from me at all. You will live in my hab-suite with me. Is that clear?”

Usually, Starscream would have expected Killstreak to incline his head in a nod of understanding, but what the Seeker didn’t know was that Killstreak had been practicing speech, now that his vocaliser had finally developed fully.

“Yes Master,” Killstreak answered obediently in a voice that rumbled like thunder; it was a voice that could screech an attack or sound like the calm before the storm, and for Starscream, it would always be the latter.

Starscream stumbled back, shocked by the development, “You can talk?!”

“Yes Master, as can Sky Lynx and Darksteel, though they have less reason to do so.”

Starscream sneered defiantly, “This changes nothing between us. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.” Starscream looked around his hab-suite, searching for another topic that would put him back in control of the situation. “I suppose I shall have to clear some room for you.”

“That will not be necessary,” Killstreak assured Starscream, making him uneasy once again as he transformed into an alternate robot mode.

“Transforming too… You have been keeping secrets.”

Starscream didn’t like that one bit; he had to know everything about everyone if he was to remain in the running for ruling the known universe. “And the others?” He asked.

Killstreak shook his head, “Not yet, though it won’t be long before they realise that they too are capable of transformation.”

“Very well,” Starscream growled, considering his options.

While he didn’t care for Killstreak’s new abilities, he decided not to linger on them. After all, the Predacon was loyal to him and Starscream wasn’t foolish enough to lose his one true follower; the first step to building an army was to have the first soldier within it.  

“Nothing changes,” He said again, more decisively than before. “I need to recharge. Do your duty and protect me while I rest.”

With that, Starscream laid elegantly upon his berth, and though it took him a while to get comfortable with Killstreak in the room, he eventually managed to fall into a light recharge.

Though there was little space in the room, Killstreak transformed back to his root-mode, lying down next to the berth like a dog protecting its master. He placed his tail strategically against the door so anyone foolish enough to intrude would trip over it, giving him more than enough time to dispatch them.

Then, settling down, Killstreak watched Starscream recharge; it was the first of many nights together for the pair as the Autobot-Decepticon war raged on.

Killstreak groaned, struggling against the weight of the building that Predaking had pushed atop him. Earthen buildings would have been no problem for Killstreak to escape the weight of, but the Cybertronian metal structure was proving difficult to move.

Killstreak roared in frustration, a monstrous blast of fire escaping his mouth. It was natural that he and Predaking would come to blows upon meeting, but Killstreak knew he could have won the battle for leadership over the Predacons had it not been for Sky Lynx and Darksteel siding against him, interfering with their fight by using their combined forces to help Predaking defeat him.

Predaking landed before Killstreak with a mighty slam against the planet’s surface, transforming into his bot mode shortly thereafter.

“Things don’t have to end like this,” He told Killstreak in a tone that suggested he was about to issue an ultimatum.

Killstreak hissed in protest, glaring harder than ever when Sky Lynx and Darksteel landed behind their new leader, looking all too pleased with themselves.

“There are far too few of us for me to let you die,” Predaking said. “However, I have plans of revenge, and I have heard that you treat that fool Starscream like a spark-mate.”

Predaking shook his head distastefully, but didn’t comment further on Killstreak’s poor taste; after all, in a time when the Predacons knew nobody else, it was unsurprising that Killstreak might bond with one of the few options available.

“I make you an offer Killstreak,” Predaking boomed majestically. “Let this wreckage be your tomb, or accept me as your new leader, and don’t interfere when I take your previous Master offline.”

In no mood for games or conversation, Killstreak opened his maw, letting out a squirt of acid, a few drops of which landed on Predaking’s pede, corroding the metal away. To Predaking’s credit, he didn’t shy away or show any indication of the pain he was undoubtedly feeling. Instead, he merely looked at Killstreak darkly.

“A pity,” He stated. “You could have been my second. Now, you’ll die here.”

Not the type to gloat, Predaking transformed, bounding away before leaping into the open air and flying away. Sky Lynx and Darksteel shared a smug look before following their new leader, and Killstreak was left mercifully alone, thinking about how he would escape before they got to Starscream.

With metal pinning down everything but his head, Killstreak knew he wouldn’t be able to manoeuvre himself well enough to use his acid to create a means of escape. Nor could he use brute strength to get him out from the position he was in. That left only transforming, but to do so would be risky; while transforming might allow Killstreak to shimmy free through one of the smaller gaps in the metal, it might also cause it to crush him if it moved too much.

Killstreak considered the conundrum for a few more seconds. Well, if the metal did crush him, he would be no worse off than he was currently. Opting for the one tactic that gave him a chance at not only his own survival, but Starscream’s as well, Killstreak transformed.

As he’d suspected, the metal held in place, allowing Killstreak the space to shimmy forward, though he was careful not to rush to his escape in case he knocked any of the building’s supporting structures.

 Once free, Killstreak wasted no time in transforming back to his root-mode, stretching his wings to catch a gust of wind that would carry him hastily towards Starscream and Predaking. As he soared, Killstreak felt fury burning up inside him, becoming a force greater than he had ever known. If Predaking thought their battle was over, he was sorely mistaken, though this time, Killstreak didn’t care for leadership over the Predacons. Now, he only wanted revenge and to protect the one bot who mattered to him most in the universe; his spark-mate, Starscream.

While Killstreak couldn’t trace energy signatures like modern Cybertronians could, he didn’t need to, for his olfactory sensors brought him a steady stream of information and could do so from halfway across the planet if he so wished. Fortunately, Starscream was much closer than that, but so were the other Predacons; in the time it had taken Killstreak to escape, Predaking, Sky Lynx, and Darksteel had found their target.

Killstreak willed himself on, listening intently as his audio feed picked up on Predaking’s vocaliser. He could see them in the distance now and gnashed his dentae in frustration as the Predacons closed in on Starscream.

Starscream backed away from Predaking who spoke, his tone low and threatening, “I am not here to seize thrones, Starscream, but to settle scores.”

Killstreak narrowed his optics, picking his target. His earlier error had been in not considering Sky Lynx and Darksteel as threats; that wouldn’t happen again. Killstreak tucked his limbs close to his body, increasing his velocity. The aerial manoeuvre paid off greatly as he smashed into Darksteel, pushing him into Sky Lynx, and launching them both off the edge of the building.

After landing, Killstreak spun quickly and spat acid, but Predaking was prepared and dodged the attack. Then, a ferocious battle ensued.

Starscream was forced to watch the fight, unable to escape past the warring Predacons who fought over his life, one trying to extinguish it and the other attempting to preserve it.

“Behind you!” Starscream cried out as Sky Lynx and Darksteel reappeared, having recovered from their fall.

Killstreak spun around, using his armoured tail like a club and sweeping the lesser bots down. With a molten roar of fire, Killstreak managed to set Sky Lynx’s wing alight.

Taking advantage of Darksteel’s disoriented state, Starscream fired his arm missiles, one after the other, hitting the Predacon twice in the chassis and incapacitating him for the moment. With that, Killstreak was left to battle Predaking alone.

Killstreak could have said all manner of sentiments about how it would be an honourable duel now that Predaking didn’t have any underlings to aid him, but when in a battle to the death, who had the time for snappy words and over-the-top conversation that would do nothing to help him win?

Overall, it was a close fight, with both bots doing mass amounts of damage. Predaking tore Killstreak’s wing, melted the plating on his leg, and tore off his horn with a mighty blow. In return, Killstreak ripped away some of Predaking’s neck-wiring, unfortunately missing anything vital, dented his helm, and scorched his audial processors, throwing Predaking precariously off balance.

The two Predacons were almost equally matched, with one exception. The fossils which had been used to create Killstreak were half a million years younger than those used to make Predaking, and in that time, Predacons had evolved the venomous tubing that Killstreak relied on so heavily. Killstreak used it once again, managing to coat Predaking’s optics, blinding him completely as acid melted through metal.

Predaking roared in a mix of pain and fury, blindly lashing out. Killstreak transformed into his root-mode, hissing out the last words Predaking would ever hear.

“For my spark-mate,” He growled, puncturing Predaking’s spark-casing and extinguishing his life force.

After ensuring Sky Lynx and Darksteel were also offline for good, Killstreak was finally able to turn his attention to Starscream.

Starscream stared at him in shocked silence, uncertain of who was in control of the situation at that point.

Killstreak got to one knee, bowing to Starscream on his throne.

“My Liege,” He murmured, graciously inclining his head downwards.

‘And your spark-mate, apparently,’ Starscream thought sardonically, though he didn’t say so aloud. He was considering his relationship with Killstreak in a new light, wondering where he would go from there.

Starscream reached out to Killstreak, patting his head in an act that was somewhere between a master and a pet, and a loving Conjunx Endurae. While there were certainly some cultural differences he would have to learn if he was to pursue a relationship with Killstreak, Starscream would gladly do so as he thought of the hundreds of tactical advantages of keeping the universe’s only remaining Predacon as a spark-mate.