Author's Note: Hello everyone, and thank you for checking out my Transformers Prime fanfiction! Now, I'm going to admit straight out of the gate that I have only seen season 3, titled "Beast Hunters", though I have researched all of the previous events so that I don't get myself muddled up. However, I am not a HUGE-super-all-knowledge-knowing fan of Transformers Prime or the Transformers universe in general, though I do know enough in order to get me through. But this story will almost 90% be from Predaking's point of view. So seeing as he's new to everything as well, I think I can get away with it ;)
When I watched season 3, I instantly loved him and wanted to explore his character and the great potential he had. So this is a slight AU of season 3 with bits of the movie "Predacons Rising" mixed in. This story will focus on Predaking, and will explore more of his psychological and emotional development, with a little help ;)
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I will certainly have fun writing it. And please do not forget to review!
The Predacon's Prisoner
Prologue: Cybertron I
He had been patrolling when he knew that there was a disturbance in his 'nest'. Just like the dragons in earth's folklore, he knew when his territory had been invaded, and his scanners indicated that it was a party of them, heading for the heart of his final piece of seclusion.
Mandibles shivered as a dangerous growl escaped his throat, an old hatred making a fire burn in his generator as it travelled up his throat. His shoulder and back ached as his wings thrust him through the air. Despite the fact that he had patched himself up since arriving on his home world, his wounds were still rather troubling. He'd lost a lot of energon, but he'd managed to find a few patches of it in his scouting around his new home. Unlike the other cybertronian life forms, he had never seen his home planet until he had been brought here – he knew unintentionally – by the Autobots. Some part of him rejoiced to be 'home' for his spark finally felt as if it belong on the metallic surface of the planet. And yet…
And yet it was all too silent. The world was uninhabited, and he was all alone. The first of his kind since the dawning of cybertronian history, and more than likely to be the last to ever live. All that remained of his race were the bones of ancients unearthed by the planet's recent restoration, the fossils of predators that once ruled only to be extinguished by a great cataclysm. And now he was all that was left.
He ruled over a silent kingdom, filled with only the ghosts of dead subjects. Suddenly, the name he had given himself seemed to be a mockery of his loneliness. Some king he was. A King of nothing.
But he would have been fine with that, had there only been someone's little laughter… someone's beaming smile and light voice to talk away the long hours of the day with. Someone to share the air with as he flew through it, now flying as if his wings couldn't carry the weight that dragged his spark to the ground. But that would never be.
He shook himself back to the present, snarling at his self-indulged weakness, and pushed himself hard into the air currents, closing in on his target. He was beginning to wonder if he was going insane, for his mind would slip often like this. Into memories he would go, or into thoughts that hurt his spark, and when he returned the only way to escape the pain was to either never think and feel, or to push his body to its limits and let the exertion distract his mind. There was only one thing that was keeping him operational now: Vengeance. It was the reason that he had stowed away in order to come to Cybertron, to follow the trail of the one who would die slowly for his crimes. He growled as the fire burned its way inside of him, as if preparing for that eventual day. But he focused now, diving silently onto the prey that dared to intrude into his den. His optics narrowed when he recognised the loathsome forms. As he swooped in to land, he managed to hear them.
"Whoa… you mean we've been tracking…" The big green one, Bulkhead, he remembered his designation to be, gulped as his shadow fell over them as he landed on a high slab of metal that jutted out from the metallic ground. "Predaking?" Bulkhead finished. He snarled at them as they dared to ready their weapons at him, when they were standing in his domain! He flared his gigantic wings, making his already large form seem enormous as he engulfed them in his shadow. He summoned flame from his generator, letting the light shine at the back of his throat to show them that he was more than ready for the fight, and would relish every second of it. He saw that they were nervous, and ready to pull the trigger and start the –
"Hold fire!" Cried the little yellow one, holding a large rod in his hand as he held up the other.
Predaking was surprised to see that the others listened to the puny one and lowered their weapons. But he didn't stand down, even when the little one took a step closer and lifted the rod up into the air as if for the predacon to inspect it.
"Recognise this, Predaking?" The yellow one – Predaking thought he remembered the Decepticons describing this one as a scout… Bumblebee, was that his designation? Something along those lines of a silly and unimpressive earth insect.
But still he hissed a dangerous growl as he closed his mandibles and leaned his head ever so slightly closer to look at the rod in the autobot's hands. He couldn't see anything remarkable about it, and he definitely hadn't seen it before, his memory would have told him otherwise.
"You served aboard Megatron's warship," Bumblebee said. "Surely you're familiar with this little treasure from his vault? The immobiliser. It causes instant stasis lock, though the victim remains fully conscious. A living death."
Predaking snarled, knowing the threat was there. He didn't know if this was the real immobiliser – he had heard of some of the various weapons Megatron had stored aboard the warship, though he didn't know why the Decepticon leader didn't use said weapons more often. His scanners indicated that there was nothing out of the ordinary about the rod, and he saw the other autobots look at each other. But he didn't want to gamble such a fate. But if the autobot was merely talking to him now, why hadn't he fired the immobiliser yet? He could have done it as soon as he landed. Predaking narrowed his optics suspiciously. But then, the autobot placed the rod on the ground, bending the knee as if bowing to him, and the predacon felt his pride stirred at the gestured.
"But we didn't come here to fight, Your Highness." The autobot's words were spoken respectfully.
He decided that it would be most advantageous to learn as to why the autobots would extend such a gesture, especially considering the bad-energon between them. He gave the autobot one last warning glare, before he transformed into his mech-form. He stood proud and tall, looming over them all still on the high-rise, his back straight and stiff, his face impassive though his lip was curled and optics narrowed in only the slightest hint of disdain and suspicion.
The autobot may have put the weapon on the ground, but Predaking still didn't trust them as far as he could throw them.
"Then why have you violated my refuge, Autobot?" He spat out the last word with clear distaste.
"We need answers." Bumblebee said as he stood and the other autobots sheathed their weapons as they all stared up to him. He analysed their faces. They all seemed distrustful, weary, but also disturbed. Whatever it was, they were more concerned by other matters then him. He need not fear a trap from them – not that he would of in the first place. "Do you know of any other predacons currently on Cybertron?"
"Indeed. Legions of them." Predaking sneered in self-mockery, for oh what bitter irony. He had yearned for more of his own race for so long, and now all that he had was the dust. He turned and gestured to the huge burial ground that stretched out for miles behind him, the field decorated with the fossilised bones of his ancestors. "Behold! My subjects, a countless multitude. Rendered extinct ages ago by the Great Cataclysm. Unearthed by the shifting of plates in our planet's restoration."
"Yeah, well me and Ultra Magnus just about got scrapped by two living predacons." Snapped the blue mech defiantly with a sneer. "Know anything about them, Your Highness?"
A trick? His mind protested against the vain hope in his spark, for it had to be! It couldn't be that the answer to his prayers would come so easily! Yet the Autobots seemed to be blaming him, as if he should already know… could that possibly mean…
"Two?!" He demanded, leaning forward. "Where?"
"We came to ask your help in finding them." Bumblebee asked. Predaking narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious again.
"For revenge?" He asked with a growl. Did they honestly expect him to turn on his own kind? Could they be so cruel as to make him suffer through losing his only hope again?! Did they truly want to condemn him to his lonely existence?
"No." The puny one said. "Optimus Prime would deem it a tragedy to stain Cybertron's fresh soil with any newly spilled energon. So help us prove what Megatron was never willing to. That more than one race can peacefully coexist on our planet."
"You assume that because I turned against Megatron…" Predaking sneered at the naivety of the autobot. "That I can forgive the autobots their role in the destruction of my brethren on Earth?!" That, and so much more… his spark almost gave out as the memories threatened to consume him. He pushed them back. He had to forget for now, or he would never find peace and never concentrate enough to have his vengeance. He curled his lip as he narrowed his yellow optic onto the Autobot. "Leave me be… and dare not trespass here again."
The Autobots had the right instinct to look a little unsettled at the threat. But they decided to leave the beast to his loneliness, and so turned away and walked peacefully out of his 'home'. Bumblebee threw the rod over his shoulder as he left, letting it disappear into nearby wreckage. Predaking had to snort at the autobot's nerve, for he had held a good poker-face.
His optics didn't leave their backs until they were gone from the horizon. Only when he was certain that they had truly left, did he relax. He looked down at his chest, where attached to his armour by a piece of string, hanging next to his own predacon insignia, was a little green dragon head. He reverently touched it with a gently finger, letting his Spark have its moment of yearning. But after a moment he pushed the feelings away and finally transform back into his alt-mode, and took to the sky, his spark finally flickering to life as he dared to hope.
Hours later, he had finally managed to track the autobots trail to the site of the attack, though his luck had ended there when he realised that the two predacons – for indeed he had found evidence that the autobots had spoken the truth that two of his kind existed – had fled the scene in flight. He couldn't track them through the air, and he had no fresh sample of them like he had had with Wheeljack. So he had been forced to light up the night's sky with a great inferno of flame as a beacon to call to any Predacons who might see. He had been waiting for hours, when finally he saw something in the sky flying towards him. His spark crackled with hope as a small smile graced his face.
"The beacon, it worked!" He whispered almost excitedly. He couldn't help but wonder what these Predacons would be like. Would they be mechs or femmes? Would they be like him? Would they welcome him with open wings as he surely wanted to with them?
But as the object drew closer, Predaking felt his Spark sink and be replaced with caution when he realised that wing-beats did not accompany the flying form, but the sound of an engine. The cybertronian came hurtling and transformed as it landed heavily on the ground. As it straightened, it revealed itself to be –
"Megatron?!" Predaking narrowed his eyes, unable to believe it. Megatron had perished, the Autobot scout had killed him. Yet here he was! The loathsome betrayer standing in front of him… and yet changed. His armour was much more decorative then before, and his usually red eyes were a dark-energon purple… something didn't seem right about this.
"Warrior!" Megatron greeted almost cheerfully, further making the predacon blink in surprise and confusion. "I call upon you to serve your Master!"
Predaking thought his generator would make him explode in fire. The gall of the cretin! Had he forgotten what he had done?! Did he truly think that he would heel to him?! The insult was enough to make him shake with violent intent.
"In the name of the mighty legions of predacons who preceded me," He growled with narrowed optics at his hated enemy. There was only one other he hated more than Megatron, one whom he had vowed to reclaim vengeance on, for destroying what had been left of his happiness. "I shall never again yield to your charge! But I will heed your previous advice… and face my true enemy AS A BEAST!"
He roared as he transformed into his alt-dragon mode so fast that Megatron had no chance to react before a blast of fire had hit him straight on. Predaking allowed all of his hatred and anger, every negative emotion he had kept bottled inside of him the past days, and used it to fuel his flames, making them grow so hot he could have melted the mech where he stood, and probably was. Megatron's screams of agony were like music to his audio receptors.
When the flames ceased, Megatron staggered to the ground, his form almost white hot as he gasped and tried to escape his agony. Predaking screeched a battle-cry, charging forward before he clamped his jaws around Megatron's middle and hoisted him into the air as he shook him violently, wanting to tear the mech in half. Megatron tried to hit him to get the predacon to release him but Predaking ignored him, and instead lifted his head before blasting Megatron out of his mouth with a burst of fire. Megatron screamed in pain again as he was thrown through the air and landed heavily in a heap on the floor.
He quickly got back to his feet, but Predaking didn't want to give him a chance to recover. He charged towards his enemy, before noticing some purple-light glow around Megatron's arm. He aimed it and fired. Usually gun-fire or even plasma-fire didn't harm the predacon, for his armour was too thick in his alt-dragon mode. But this blast was different, for as it connected with his chest, the force of it sent him through the air backwards to fall roughly. It seemed to cause him a moment of agony as the shot sunk through his armour and felt as if it were trying to poison his very spark with something dark and twisted…
Dark-Energon. Predaking knew it the moment he felt it, for he had been in its presence before, and its evil was unmistakable anywhere. It was then that he knew that this wasn't Megatron he was dealing with, for Megatron had had an affinity with dark-energon but never exhibited this kind of control over it. It would also explain for the odd behaviour. This being was something else…
But he refused to back down, and so charged back into the fight as he came at the mech with all his speed and power. Megatron or no, he would still tear him apart. He leapt at his prey, but was shot out of the air and sent reeled back until he collided with a ruined building and slid to the ground. The pain was more intense the second time around, but he refused to give up. Nothing would deprive him of vengeance! If the demon killed him later, then so be it, but he had to have his vengeance first, it was the only thing he was living for now!
He screeched as he unflinchingly shook himself back to his feet and charged once more at his opponent. As his jaws came within striking distance, the-not-Megatron summoned into being a hammer made of dark energon around his free hand and smashed it into Predaking's face over and over again. Each strike was a flash of pain to the predacon, not only to his metal but also to his energon that reacted to the poison seeming to come off of the demon's aura in waves, and he backed up as he tried to escape the onslaught. He tried to snap his jaws, but the hammer finally came down with one last almighty force to the top of his head.
Predaking collapsed, dazed and barely conscious as he lay there. His optics were blurry as his system tried to recover though slowly. Some part of him wanted the demon to end it, to let him be at peace. Though this wasn't the place where he wanted his bones to collect dust… for his memory-core still remembered the little hill with the sun and wind always there… that was where he wanted to be laid to rest, but just having it all end would be enough.
"Now…" He heard Megatron's voice panting slightly, but he couldn't even move his head, for he felt so weary. "Let us learn more of these 'Mighty Legions' of which you spoke of… by peering directly into your mind…"
He then felt a hand on his head, and felt the poison in the touch that seeped through his shell and invaded his very being. Predaking's eyes widened as he suddenly felt his mind not become his own, as a foreign and evil presence shifted through his memories and thoughts, discarding all that was not useful. Despite his valiant attempts to keep his own mind a sanctuary, and to preserve any memory he could, it was in vain as the all-powerful intruder ripped him apart.
They both saw through the ancestral memory drives what Predaking had seen in a vision only once before. A world filled with the mightiest constructs this planet had ever seen, living super-soldier-weapons in the countless numbers. And then it came to Predaking's actual memories, of the burial ground he had made his home, filled with the bones of all that remained of his race.
And then, through the fog, a memory of the one face that haunted his every thought. It was where she belonged in the reverent place beside his forefathers. A little round and pale face, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. At the mere memory, his spark ached as only a single name whispered throughout his being…
A/N: Please review!