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ajremixI apparently can't write short things anymore. And probably shouldn't be thinking up titles on four hours of sleep.
Title: Sword of Damocles (The Price You'll Pay)
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Word Count: 2303
Characters: Onslaught, Megatron, Combaticons
Summary: Five times Megatron used the loyalty program to humiliate Onslaught. (Five times Onslaught defied the programming.)
5.
Pain momentarily washed his vision in black. But the voice of his master cut through the haze.
"Crawl over here," Megatron commanded.
Onslaught fought it, hard enough he could feel the loyalty programming burning in his head, pain crackling down every sensor, screaming at him to submit submit it'll feel so good to submit no pain no hurt obey-
He crawled through the shattered pieces of his optic band, through the splatters of fluids he'd trailed. He crawled as his fingers left grooves in the floor, trying to find an anchor to keep from doing as he was commanded. He stopped at Megatron's peds, whole body shaking with shame and a rage he'd never felt before.
"It seems your new programming is working out better than I imagined." A heel pressed down on the back of his neck, forcing Onslaught's head to the floor. "Say you deserve this."
He tried to bit back the words, "I deserve this, Lord Megatron."
"Say you're at my mercy."
He would've bitten off his own glossa if the programming allowed him to, "I am at your mercy, Lord Megatron."
"Beg for my mercy. Beg for another chance. Beg to prove your loyalty to me."
He could practically taste sparks in his mouth as he fought against every syllable. "Please, my lord. Let me serve you. Let me prove myself. Have mercy on me, Lord Megatron. I will do anything you command."
The tyrant's laughter was low and dark, the programming soothed at his vocal pleasure while Onslaught roared at himself for his weakness. "Such an obedient pet."
(He hadn't noticed it at the time, too caught up in his own humiliation and fury to realize he'd dropped his block on the gestalt bond. Neither did he notice that the others had done the same, drawn by fear or perhaps morbid curiosity at the sudden flux of hate/pain/mortification/helplessness that battered at their own blocks. They reached for him, cautiously, warily, as if afraid he'd drown them in emotions they sometimes forgot he had.
Onslaught couldn't help reveling in the pulse of warmth in his chest, right below where the gestalt programming thrummed. For the first time since they awoke, since they realized what Starscream had forced on them, did they willingly use the bond to reach for each other. Beaten and abused as he was, limping his way to their shared quarters, Onslaught couldn't help but feel this might not have been a total loss.)
4.
"Onslaught, stay as you are. The rest of you are dismissed."
The other officers left the war table, going off to prepare for their upcoming projects or to enjoy what free time they had before they had to start preparing. Onslaught stayed in his spot in a parade rest. Megatron moved from his throne, circling the Combaticon as if it was an inspection. Then he moved toward the various mechs performing their duties in the command center, getting their reports.
Then Megatron left.
A couple of mechs on monitor duty turned just enough to look at Onslaught, snickering to each other as he continued to stand there. He could feel the faint buzz of tightlinks being activated and knew they were talking about him.
But he stood there. Stood there when shifts changed and he was gawked at by a whole new group of 'cons. Stood there while a couple stupidly brave ones poked at him. The lack of response emboldened them. They scratched his armor, dabbed him with paint, took the weapons off his mounts. They laughed at him. Slapped him. Took image captures. But still Onslaught did nothing, even when Brawl came in for his shift at the monitors and saw what was being done to his team leader. Just like he didn't when Brawl started taking a swing at anyone that approached Onslaught or when a group of mechs subdued the tank and dragged him to the brig.
Eventually, when Onslaught's joints were stiff and warnings began lighting up in his HUD, Megatron returned. He barely gave the Combaticon a second glance before sitting back on his throne and ordering, "Get out of my sight."
(It was such a minor victory that most wouldn't even consider it such. But Onslaught did because of the possibilities it opened up. Because seeing him humiliated, being the one to cause that humiliation- that gave Megatron pleasure but not as much as watching Onslaught trying to fight the loyalty programming and failing. Doing precisely what he was told denied Megatron full satisfaction and that, in its own way, was a defiance. It gave him wiggle room. It proved the programming had loopholes that he and his team could take advantage of.
Megatron did not control them as utterly as he thought. And that gave Onslaught a chance to plan.)
3.
It was utterly pointless for Onslaught to be there. Of course he should be- he'd been among the greatest tactical minds in the Decepticon Empire before his incarceration, had commanded battalions, helped to write military doctrine that was still in use, had conquered entire battlefields in Megatron's name. It was only natural that he should be in strategy meetings.
But there wasn't much point when Megatron wouldn't allow him to take part in it. He had to sit, quietly, and listen to everyone else plan and argue around him, processors churning, begging to correct their misguided attempts at tactics. But every time he tried Megatron would cut him off with, "I did not give you permission to speak," and Onslaught's vocalizer would cut out in the middle of a sentence in a burst of static, leaving him to bristle in humiliation as the other officers sneered at him.
"Bruticus will stay back as reinforcements. Brawl will be part of the ground force assault under Motormaster's command."
The Stunticon grinned, wide and smug and all Onslaught could do was stand there passively, feeling static welling up uselessly in his vocalizer. Megatron watched him carefully, knowing how much it grated Onslaught's pride- he'd always been so proud, even after his ambition left his team with nothing and Megatron remembered this well -to not only not being allowed to do what he'd been specifically created for, but to have one of his team taken from him and given to an upstart team leader.
If there was one thing that would make Onslaught break, it would be his possessiveness of his team. But he would not break today and Megatron turned back to the plan as if dismissing Onslaught's existence entirely.
(/Right flank is overextending. They're running the risk of the Autobots dividing the line./
/Must you commentate these pointless battles?/
/Speak for yourself, Blast Off, I like hearing who's likely gonna bite it next. Gives me time to find 'em and watch./
Onslaught ignored Blast Off and Vortex's bickering, Swindle keeping out of it so he could focus on getting good recordings of the battle for Onslaught to review later. And possibly for his own monetary gain, Onslaught would not put that beyond him. Just because Megatron wouldn't use him didn't mean he couldn't feel useful to himself, battlecomputer finding the flaws and weakness from both sides then crafting scenarios if they'd been corrected, countered, re-countered until he was running this battle a hundred different ways in his processors.
/Brawl,/ he called through the gestalt link, /Runamuck's broken formation. If you stay in that position, those frontliners will be on you in a few kliks./
/I can't get a hold of Motormaster! I don't even know what the plan is anymore!/
/Fall back by the Constructicons. They could use some anti-aircraft support and they, at least, are smart enough to look out for their best offensive measure. Stay with them until I tell you otherwise. Or that idiot remembers he's supposed to be giving orders./
/You got it, Boss!/
Perhaps in a way Onslaught should be thankful Megatron never took him under advisement. When they'd fallen to Shockwave's forces, the team's confidence in Onslaught had been shattered. Even still he felt the occasional flash of their resentment towards him. Shockwave and Megatron may have been the ones to put them in the Detention Center, but it had been Onslaught's plan that led them there.
But here, now, they saw what had become of the mighty Decepticon Empire. They remembered why they had rebelled in the first place. Even with the loyalty program leashing them Megatron still didn't trust them or utilize them, preferred to punish them out of pettiness.
It was easy for them to regain confidence in Onslaught when they had so little confidence in anyone else.)
2.
"Hey, Onslaught! Bring us some cubes over here!"
"And don't take all slagging day with it, either!"
He bit down on his temper as the loyalty program spurred him into compliance. It was a simple operation with, if his calculations were correct, ample time until the Autobots came to disrupt it. So of course the triplechangers spent that time running Onslaught around like he was their servant. Megatron had ordered him to obey them like it was some kind of reward.
Perhaps it was, he thought bitterly. Give whoever was in his favor a Combaticon to command during an op. While Onslaught had little problems with sending one of his team out as support- they were versatile, he had made sure of that -that wasn't the reason Megatron specifically ordered the Combaticons to follow another Decepticon's order in front of their team leader. Nor was it anything Onslaught could rightly dispute: Vortex and Blast Off were useful in transporting the Constructicons' supplies, Swindle was necessary for bringing Soundwave or the Cassetticons to and from their own missions. And he and Brawl were put under Astrotrain's command for when the inevitable fighting started.
Knowing Megatron was humiliating his team to break Onslaught burned but he endured. And he forced his team to endure.
"Get the lead out, Onsy! You too, tread-head- we gave you an order!"
Patience. The opportunity would come but they needed patience.
(After every time one of them was 'loaned out', as Swindle called it, they'd report back everything they thought relevant to Onslaught. His dossier on every Decepticon grew longer and more detailed; he knew their capabilities, their personalities, their flaws, whose loyalties were wavering. The Combaticons were smart. They studied those around them, learned what it would take to get into their gaps, which weaknesses were exploitable. Even Brawl, as dumb as he could be, had an instinctive reaction to others' unconscious body language that Vortex once admitted he envied.
Let Megatron shuffle them around. Let the other Decepticons look over them as practically slaves. It just made the Combaticons all the more eager to exploit those around them.)
1.
It started off as a simple fight- your typical rec room brawl except that it was below Onslaught's dignity to do such a thing. But Motormaster had been so persistent in starting it up with him, had followed after him like some desperate pet needing to be disciplined and, to be perfectly honest, Onslaught was in need of blowing off some steam. So he indulged in a little dustup with the young wannabe.
The other Decepticons cheered and shouted at them, pushing the combatants into the center of the open space every time they were knocked back. Motormaster snarled and roared, an excessive force of power and speed and aggression that wouldn't be stopped. If it weren't for so many millennia of sparing with Brawl, Onslaught might have been in trouble. But, just like the tank, Motormaster didn't think in strategies. He saw what was in front of him and went after it, not caring who or what he ran over to do so. It was actually almost fun putting the truck on his aft time after time. Motormaster might rule his team with fear but without fear he was nothing. Without strength he was nothing. Against someone he could neither intimidate nor overpower he-
/Onslaught. Stand down./
The loyalty program leashed him mid-lunge, giving Motormaster ample time smash him into the deck. Onslaught's optics fritzed momentarily, briefly disoriented. A kick to his midsection caused something to crunch audibly and his processors screamed as they tried to figure out how to reconcile their current orders with how to protect himself.
Onslaught saw, terrible grin a sadistic slash above all the roaring Decepticons, Megatron staring him down. Motormaster's fists fell again and didn't stop falling.
(He heard from Vortex later, after onlining in the medbay with an unamused Hook leaning over him, that Megatron had ordered the team to stay and watch until their leader had been beaten down.
Except Onslaught didn't stay down.
He got up, time after time, and didn't move to defend or attack. It torqued Motormaster off more and more until his rage had silenced many of the watching Decepticons. They thought Motormaster was going to kill him. And still Onslaught kept standing back up. It was only when the crowd fell quiet that Megatron ordered Motormaster to stop- had to order others to stop him -and commanded someone to take Onslaught to the medbay.
/Got plenty 'cons wary of ya now. They figured there was a reason you were getting beat down and they realized just 'cause you weren't fighting didn't mean you weren't fighting. Blasty's in a snit 'cause he thinks you showed too much of your hand, by the way. But that's just 'cause he don't wanna admit he was worried./
Onslaught could feel a tendril of emotion through the gestalt bond, one of varying intensity from each of them that radiated fear/worry/relief/anger on his behalf. Onslaught sent reassurance back to them, unable to keep pride from tinging it.
Order us all you want, Megatron, he thought to himself. All you're doing is hardening our resolve.)
Title: Sword of Damocles (The Price You'll Pay)
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Word Count: 2303
Characters: Onslaught, Megatron, Combaticons
Summary: Five times Megatron used the loyalty program to humiliate Onslaught. (Five times Onslaught defied the programming.)
5.
Pain momentarily washed his vision in black. But the voice of his master cut through the haze.
"Crawl over here," Megatron commanded.
Onslaught fought it, hard enough he could feel the loyalty programming burning in his head, pain crackling down every sensor, screaming at him to submit submit it'll feel so good to submit no pain no hurt obey-
He crawled through the shattered pieces of his optic band, through the splatters of fluids he'd trailed. He crawled as his fingers left grooves in the floor, trying to find an anchor to keep from doing as he was commanded. He stopped at Megatron's peds, whole body shaking with shame and a rage he'd never felt before.
"It seems your new programming is working out better than I imagined." A heel pressed down on the back of his neck, forcing Onslaught's head to the floor. "Say you deserve this."
He tried to bit back the words, "I deserve this, Lord Megatron."
"Say you're at my mercy."
He would've bitten off his own glossa if the programming allowed him to, "I am at your mercy, Lord Megatron."
"Beg for my mercy. Beg for another chance. Beg to prove your loyalty to me."
He could practically taste sparks in his mouth as he fought against every syllable. "Please, my lord. Let me serve you. Let me prove myself. Have mercy on me, Lord Megatron. I will do anything you command."
The tyrant's laughter was low and dark, the programming soothed at his vocal pleasure while Onslaught roared at himself for his weakness. "Such an obedient pet."
(He hadn't noticed it at the time, too caught up in his own humiliation and fury to realize he'd dropped his block on the gestalt bond. Neither did he notice that the others had done the same, drawn by fear or perhaps morbid curiosity at the sudden flux of hate/pain/mortification/helplessness that battered at their own blocks. They reached for him, cautiously, warily, as if afraid he'd drown them in emotions they sometimes forgot he had.
Onslaught couldn't help reveling in the pulse of warmth in his chest, right below where the gestalt programming thrummed. For the first time since they awoke, since they realized what Starscream had forced on them, did they willingly use the bond to reach for each other. Beaten and abused as he was, limping his way to their shared quarters, Onslaught couldn't help but feel this might not have been a total loss.)
4.
"Onslaught, stay as you are. The rest of you are dismissed."
The other officers left the war table, going off to prepare for their upcoming projects or to enjoy what free time they had before they had to start preparing. Onslaught stayed in his spot in a parade rest. Megatron moved from his throne, circling the Combaticon as if it was an inspection. Then he moved toward the various mechs performing their duties in the command center, getting their reports.
Then Megatron left.
A couple of mechs on monitor duty turned just enough to look at Onslaught, snickering to each other as he continued to stand there. He could feel the faint buzz of tightlinks being activated and knew they were talking about him.
But he stood there. Stood there when shifts changed and he was gawked at by a whole new group of 'cons. Stood there while a couple stupidly brave ones poked at him. The lack of response emboldened them. They scratched his armor, dabbed him with paint, took the weapons off his mounts. They laughed at him. Slapped him. Took image captures. But still Onslaught did nothing, even when Brawl came in for his shift at the monitors and saw what was being done to his team leader. Just like he didn't when Brawl started taking a swing at anyone that approached Onslaught or when a group of mechs subdued the tank and dragged him to the brig.
Eventually, when Onslaught's joints were stiff and warnings began lighting up in his HUD, Megatron returned. He barely gave the Combaticon a second glance before sitting back on his throne and ordering, "Get out of my sight."
(It was such a minor victory that most wouldn't even consider it such. But Onslaught did because of the possibilities it opened up. Because seeing him humiliated, being the one to cause that humiliation- that gave Megatron pleasure but not as much as watching Onslaught trying to fight the loyalty programming and failing. Doing precisely what he was told denied Megatron full satisfaction and that, in its own way, was a defiance. It gave him wiggle room. It proved the programming had loopholes that he and his team could take advantage of.
Megatron did not control them as utterly as he thought. And that gave Onslaught a chance to plan.)
3.
It was utterly pointless for Onslaught to be there. Of course he should be- he'd been among the greatest tactical minds in the Decepticon Empire before his incarceration, had commanded battalions, helped to write military doctrine that was still in use, had conquered entire battlefields in Megatron's name. It was only natural that he should be in strategy meetings.
But there wasn't much point when Megatron wouldn't allow him to take part in it. He had to sit, quietly, and listen to everyone else plan and argue around him, processors churning, begging to correct their misguided attempts at tactics. But every time he tried Megatron would cut him off with, "I did not give you permission to speak," and Onslaught's vocalizer would cut out in the middle of a sentence in a burst of static, leaving him to bristle in humiliation as the other officers sneered at him.
"Bruticus will stay back as reinforcements. Brawl will be part of the ground force assault under Motormaster's command."
The Stunticon grinned, wide and smug and all Onslaught could do was stand there passively, feeling static welling up uselessly in his vocalizer. Megatron watched him carefully, knowing how much it grated Onslaught's pride- he'd always been so proud, even after his ambition left his team with nothing and Megatron remembered this well -to not only not being allowed to do what he'd been specifically created for, but to have one of his team taken from him and given to an upstart team leader.
If there was one thing that would make Onslaught break, it would be his possessiveness of his team. But he would not break today and Megatron turned back to the plan as if dismissing Onslaught's existence entirely.
(/Right flank is overextending. They're running the risk of the Autobots dividing the line./
/Must you commentate these pointless battles?/
/Speak for yourself, Blast Off, I like hearing who's likely gonna bite it next. Gives me time to find 'em and watch./
Onslaught ignored Blast Off and Vortex's bickering, Swindle keeping out of it so he could focus on getting good recordings of the battle for Onslaught to review later. And possibly for his own monetary gain, Onslaught would not put that beyond him. Just because Megatron wouldn't use him didn't mean he couldn't feel useful to himself, battlecomputer finding the flaws and weakness from both sides then crafting scenarios if they'd been corrected, countered, re-countered until he was running this battle a hundred different ways in his processors.
/Brawl,/ he called through the gestalt link, /Runamuck's broken formation. If you stay in that position, those frontliners will be on you in a few kliks./
/I can't get a hold of Motormaster! I don't even know what the plan is anymore!/
/Fall back by the Constructicons. They could use some anti-aircraft support and they, at least, are smart enough to look out for their best offensive measure. Stay with them until I tell you otherwise. Or that idiot remembers he's supposed to be giving orders./
/You got it, Boss!/
Perhaps in a way Onslaught should be thankful Megatron never took him under advisement. When they'd fallen to Shockwave's forces, the team's confidence in Onslaught had been shattered. Even still he felt the occasional flash of their resentment towards him. Shockwave and Megatron may have been the ones to put them in the Detention Center, but it had been Onslaught's plan that led them there.
But here, now, they saw what had become of the mighty Decepticon Empire. They remembered why they had rebelled in the first place. Even with the loyalty program leashing them Megatron still didn't trust them or utilize them, preferred to punish them out of pettiness.
It was easy for them to regain confidence in Onslaught when they had so little confidence in anyone else.)
2.
"Hey, Onslaught! Bring us some cubes over here!"
"And don't take all slagging day with it, either!"
He bit down on his temper as the loyalty program spurred him into compliance. It was a simple operation with, if his calculations were correct, ample time until the Autobots came to disrupt it. So of course the triplechangers spent that time running Onslaught around like he was their servant. Megatron had ordered him to obey them like it was some kind of reward.
Perhaps it was, he thought bitterly. Give whoever was in his favor a Combaticon to command during an op. While Onslaught had little problems with sending one of his team out as support- they were versatile, he had made sure of that -that wasn't the reason Megatron specifically ordered the Combaticons to follow another Decepticon's order in front of their team leader. Nor was it anything Onslaught could rightly dispute: Vortex and Blast Off were useful in transporting the Constructicons' supplies, Swindle was necessary for bringing Soundwave or the Cassetticons to and from their own missions. And he and Brawl were put under Astrotrain's command for when the inevitable fighting started.
Knowing Megatron was humiliating his team to break Onslaught burned but he endured. And he forced his team to endure.
"Get the lead out, Onsy! You too, tread-head- we gave you an order!"
Patience. The opportunity would come but they needed patience.
(After every time one of them was 'loaned out', as Swindle called it, they'd report back everything they thought relevant to Onslaught. His dossier on every Decepticon grew longer and more detailed; he knew their capabilities, their personalities, their flaws, whose loyalties were wavering. The Combaticons were smart. They studied those around them, learned what it would take to get into their gaps, which weaknesses were exploitable. Even Brawl, as dumb as he could be, had an instinctive reaction to others' unconscious body language that Vortex once admitted he envied.
Let Megatron shuffle them around. Let the other Decepticons look over them as practically slaves. It just made the Combaticons all the more eager to exploit those around them.)
1.
It started off as a simple fight- your typical rec room brawl except that it was below Onslaught's dignity to do such a thing. But Motormaster had been so persistent in starting it up with him, had followed after him like some desperate pet needing to be disciplined and, to be perfectly honest, Onslaught was in need of blowing off some steam. So he indulged in a little dustup with the young wannabe.
The other Decepticons cheered and shouted at them, pushing the combatants into the center of the open space every time they were knocked back. Motormaster snarled and roared, an excessive force of power and speed and aggression that wouldn't be stopped. If it weren't for so many millennia of sparing with Brawl, Onslaught might have been in trouble. But, just like the tank, Motormaster didn't think in strategies. He saw what was in front of him and went after it, not caring who or what he ran over to do so. It was actually almost fun putting the truck on his aft time after time. Motormaster might rule his team with fear but without fear he was nothing. Without strength he was nothing. Against someone he could neither intimidate nor overpower he-
/Onslaught. Stand down./
The loyalty program leashed him mid-lunge, giving Motormaster ample time smash him into the deck. Onslaught's optics fritzed momentarily, briefly disoriented. A kick to his midsection caused something to crunch audibly and his processors screamed as they tried to figure out how to reconcile their current orders with how to protect himself.
Onslaught saw, terrible grin a sadistic slash above all the roaring Decepticons, Megatron staring him down. Motormaster's fists fell again and didn't stop falling.
(He heard from Vortex later, after onlining in the medbay with an unamused Hook leaning over him, that Megatron had ordered the team to stay and watch until their leader had been beaten down.
Except Onslaught didn't stay down.
He got up, time after time, and didn't move to defend or attack. It torqued Motormaster off more and more until his rage had silenced many of the watching Decepticons. They thought Motormaster was going to kill him. And still Onslaught kept standing back up. It was only when the crowd fell quiet that Megatron ordered Motormaster to stop- had to order others to stop him -and commanded someone to take Onslaught to the medbay.
/Got plenty 'cons wary of ya now. They figured there was a reason you were getting beat down and they realized just 'cause you weren't fighting didn't mean you weren't fighting. Blasty's in a snit 'cause he thinks you showed too much of your hand, by the way. But that's just 'cause he don't wanna admit he was worried./
Onslaught could feel a tendril of emotion through the gestalt bond, one of varying intensity from each of them that radiated fear/worry/relief/anger on his behalf. Onslaught sent reassurance back to them, unable to keep pride from tinging it.
Order us all you want, Megatron, he thought to himself. All you're doing is hardening our resolve.)
