Beneath the Silent Stars

 

Logged by Tempest in March 2001

 

In the aftermath of an operation against the Autobot Wheeljack, Tempest has her doubts whether her contriubutions to the Decepticon cause are sufficient to pay back the debt she owes Megatron for saving her life.

 

 

Tempest frowns, looking distant. “I just hope this whole thing was worth it. Wheeljack's going to call Defcon up and tell him I'm around...and you're going to have one pissed off Autobot bounty hunter on your back before you know it.”

 

Megatron looks at her, smiling. “If Wheeljack remembers you at all.”

 

Tempest looks a little more relaxed. “He won't remember much of the encounter then I take it?”

Tempest still looks bothered. “Still, as long as I stay in one place, and as long as there's Autobots here, my survival and my location are bound to be discovered sooner or later. “ She pauses. “I hope I don't bring the Decepticons more trouble than I'm worth.”

 

Megatron laughs. “If Defcon ever shows up here, he'll have to face a bunch of pissed off Decepticons!” He walks closer to her. “Stop underestimating your own worth, Tempest”

 

Tempest gives Megatron a wry smile. “Yes. You don't seem like the sort to toss out one of your warriors due to a minor inconvenience like Defcon.”

 

Megatron says, “No, I don't. I expect my warriors to be loyal...”

 

Tempest's mouth quirks a little, but she says, “And the logical corollory is, they won't backstab you if you won't backstab them, eh?”

 

Megatron looks straight at her. “...they can expect me to be loyal to them.”

 

Tempest pauses, seizing on something. “Tell me about Starscream.”

 

Megatron frowns. “Starscream...” He shakes his head. “He was the best lieutenant I've ever had... Capable and with the best qualifications...” He pauses.

 

Tempest says, “He obviously has strengths to fill the position he does,” and waits for Megatron to continue.

 

Megatron says, “I don't know what happened... something has changed him...or me...”

 

Tempest tilts her head to indicate she is listening, but does not speak, for fear of interrupting Megatron's chain of thought...for fear an interruption would silence him.

 

Megatron says, “Maybe it is his age, a phase that will pass after a while... awkward adolescence phase or whatever...”

 

Tempest says softly, “He is young, then?”

 

Megatron says, “I don't exactly know how old he is... but his behavior reminds me of... myself when I was young.”

 

Tempest nods slowly. “If I may...some are by nature followers, and some by nature leaders. And a young leader-in-training can do wonders when he has a mentor to guide him, to teach him the ways of command. But if he is at heart a leader, then there will come a day when he wishes to stretch his own wings...to be the commander rather than the follower...to take the lead for himself.” She falls silent, regarding Megatron.

 

Megatron says, “But he also has to make the experience that the old leader is still the capable.”

 

Tempest smirks a little. “There is only so much experience you can get under another's command...” Then her optics darken. “But I will not follow Starscream into disaster. I accept his command, but” *she laughs* “Self preservation is strong in me...”

 

Megatron says, “He has the desire, but not the necessary experience and wisdom to lead.”

 

Megatron says, “And I am not beaten yet!”

 

Tempest nods slowly. “That is why his ambition bothers me. His inexperience could bring the cause disaster.” She smiles at Megatron. “I am glad to hear it...”

 

Megatron smiles back at Tempest. “My days arent over yet, and... they will lastfor a long time from now.”

 

Tempest says, “Watch your back. Overthrow strikes when you least suspect.”

 

Megatron grins. “Don't worry, I will. So you better plan nothing in that direction.”

 

Tempest rather smiles at him. “A newcomer? A squadron of powerful, well armed warriors wholly loyal to you? Starscream ready to seize command should anything happen to you? What would my odds of success be?” And she laughs...a genuine laugh.

 

Megatron says, “I'm glad you can laugh again.”

 

Tempest breaks off suddenly, looking piercingly at Megatron...and then offers a hesitant smile. “I am a...survivor. It takes more than simply continuing to exist.”

 

Tempest settles herself down in a chair, in the middle of the room rather than her customary place against the wall.

 

Megatron realizes that Tempest is more relaxed in his presence now than she was just a few days ago.

 

Tempest has indeed stopped looking at Megatron as if he might slag her any second on a whim. She's looking at the instruments of the command center, studying them closely...as if trying to figure out what all the dials and screens are for.

 

Megatron has no actual reason to slag Tempest anyway. In fact he is somewhat fascinated by the former pirate.

 

Tempest glances up at Megatron. “Nothing intoxicating...but I could do with some fuel.”

 

Megatron says, “No problem... if you don't mind to join your leader in his quarters.”

 

Tempest gives Megatron a hard penetrating glance...and nods slowly.

 

Megatron is once again reminded of the reputation he has... Rumors!  Megatron says, “Well, lets go.”

 

Megatron's quarters

        A small computer console, work station, and a recharge bed there is nothing except for the extensions of the room that shows the importance of its owner.

         Standing on a shelf aside the entrance, there are several rusty cannons of primitive design which belonged to the wrack of a pirate ship that is situated close to the base. They are small like toys to a Cybertronian and nothing more than a neat souvenir.

        A large picture on the wall opposite to the recharge bed which shows only the starry sky seem to be of some deeper meaning to the Decepticon leader.

 

Tempest looks around penetratingly, examining the contents of the room...and the frame of the doorway, before she tentativly steps inside.

 

Megatron gets them two units of fuel, offering one to Tempest. “Here you are.”

 

Tempest accepts the drink. “Thank you.” She sniffs at it once from force of habit before taking a sip. Happy with what she tastes, she relaxes a little...though she's still a bit on edge.

 

Tempest's optics dart over the image and she frowns a little reflexively before pointedly looking away. In the absence of other furniture she plops herself down against the wall, beside the door.

 

Megatron offers her the chair in front of the computer console. “Well, I'm not getting many guests here,” he explains with a grin.

 

Tempest rises and takes the proffered chair, sitting herself down again near the door...she angles herself a bit away from the picture as if to avoid it, and sips her drink.

 

Tempest makes an obvious attempt to lighten up a little. She takes a look at the cannons. “Even the humans appreciate the value of a few big guns.”

 

Megatron chuckles. “It seems so. Primitive design, but they served their purpose I think.” He leans against a wall, taking a long swig of his fuel.

 

Tempest's optics dart back to the picture, back to Megatron with a question in their ruby depths. She gestures to the picture and says softly, “Do you really see destiny when you look at that?”

 

Megatron looks over at the picture, then nods. “Yes... It reminds me of the task I have.”

 

Tempest says softly, “And that is...to bring the Decepticons to greatness?”

 

Megatron says, “You can it see that way, yes.”

 

Tempest says, “Then it seems that the image is a reminder to both of us then.” She swings her head suddenly, facing the picture head on, glaring at it as if engaging in a contest of wills...

 

Megatron dims his optics which are shining in a soft red light now. “What do you see in it?” he asks.

 

Tempest gives the picture one flash of ruby light from her optics, and glances back at Megatron with a soft chuckle. “Silliness really.” She takes a sip of fuel. “An old legend from my homeworld.”

 

Megatron looks at her. “And that is?”

 

Tempest shakes her head a little. “You would call it nonsense.”  Tempest returns her gaze to the picture, contemplatively. “It was a legend the Kilairian elders told me when I was young...in my early years.” Looking at her it's almost impossible to tell how old she is...her face is weathered, her frame still dented here and there, but the shading around her optics is almost completely lost in the shadow from the heavy bell-shaped helmet she wears, its front extending down to the bridge of her nose and keeping her optics surrounded in shadow, two ruby coals in the darkness.

 

Megatron says, “Maybe... maybe not. Try to find out.”

 

Tempest smirks a little. “All right, I'll takeyou up on your challenge.” She settles back. “The Kilairians believed that our heros of the past...gods, guardian angels, the worthy dead...whatever you wish to call them...lived among the stars, looking down on those of us on planet, watching over us, guarding us and guiding us.”  Tempest scowls briefly, suggesting there's more to this than a pretty story.

 

Megatron looks at the picture. “Who knows...” he says, taking another swig of his fuel.

 

Tempest retorts angrily--though her anger is not directed at Megatron-- “It was the biggest helping of garbage it has ever been my misfortune to hear.”

 

Megatron says, “Why suddenly so angry?”

 

Tempest says, “I don't understand why the elders told me that, instead of the truth.” She sighs bitterly. “I suppose I can...they believed it. But that did nothing to save them.”  Tempest turns her face towards the upper corner of the room, her optics growing distant and flickering with the ghosts of ancient fires. “Kilair was destroyed...I don't know if I told you...”

 

Megatron says, “No you didn't.”

 

Tempest turns to him. “My homeworld was destroyed by pirate raiders.” She tosses her head to indicate the rough sigils on her wings. “I was...possibly the age of Rumble...possibly younger...”

Tempest turns her head back to the picture, her optics burning. “They destroyed everything. The Kilairians were pacifists, left Cybertron eons ago to escape the civil wars. They did not explore the cosmos, hoping that if they kept to themselves, the rest of the universe would leave them alone. It didn't. They didn't keep weapons, didn't know how to fight. When the raiders fell on us, we were completely unprepared.”

 

Megatron doesn't say a word, just listens.

 

Tempest returns her gaze to the picture. “On that night my homeworld burned, I looked up at the stars...and saw no heros, no help, no mercy. If there was anything up there, it was not crying for me, it was /laughing/....” She breaks off. “No. No, it wasn't. It was simply /watching/...because it did not care one way or the other.”

 

Tempest wrenches her head around to Megatron. “It was the most liberating night of my life. From that moment onward everything became brutally and beautifully simple...Kill or be killed. And I had no more to fear from morals, or judgements, or restrictions. And in that moment there was nothing I could not do to put myself on the winning side, instead of under someone else's gun again.”

 

Tempest says softly, “/Destiny/ led me into Defcon's ambush...” She pauses. “Or...it lead me here.”

 

Megatron says, “You see...”

 

Tempest says, “I will believe in Destiny....if this is a destiny that can be built with one's own hands.” She looks at the stars. “I'm not waiting for anyone to hand me a future.”

 

Megatron says, “Spoken like a true Decepticon.”

 

Tempest looks up at Megatron, back to the logos on her wings. “You think?” She gives him a grin.

 

Megatron nods, serious. “I never waited for someone to get me out of my situation. I always have fought my way to the light.” And he lead others there.

 

Tempest says softly, “If I'd have waited for someone to help me I'd be dead by now.” Her optics return to the stars. “There were a few other survivors...left in a shuttle. Our only shuttle. I was injured...they left me behind.” She snorts. “I can't say I blame them. Who would ever have expected me to survive?” She reaches into her storage space again, pulls out her other possession...an old and rusted hilt...and twirls it around her hand. “Who indeed?”

 

Megatron says, “You DID survive that is all that counts. If you hadn't we would have never met...”

 

Tempest says, “And, of course, I'm not a lost Kilairian child any more.” But for a second, when she looks at you, the light catches under her helmet and she seems...less a warrior, more a girl...and then it's gone, as she holds out the hilt to Megatron.

 

Megatron reaches to take it, though not actually understanding the meaning of it... yet.

 

Tempest warns, “Watch the stud...” and she points to a little button on the side of the hilt. “It's an electric blade...quite long...and after our discussion of traitors this afternoon, I wouldn't want to activate it myself and give you the wrong idea.” She winks.

 

Megatron chuckles. He activates the blade, looking at it expertly. “Where do you have it from?”

 

Tempest says, “It belonged to one of the Kilairian raiders. Now it belongs to me.” There is another message, unspoken, under her simple words, under her slight smile.

 

Tempest returns her gaze to the picture of the stars. “When I look up at night, that night is what I remember. I can smell the smoke as our city burned, hear the screams of the dying. I can see the stars looking down as they looked down then,and what they say to me is, you shall receive no mercy and no pity. We see no“right,” we see no “wrong.” There simply is. Do...or die.” She curls her lip. “And I survived. Despite the odds...I survived.”

 

Megatron deactivates the blade, giving it back to its owner. He shortly glances at the cannon he wears, then he adds quietly: “Yes... we survived...”

 

Tempest looks briefly at the cannon and says softly, “Your weapon too is a prize?”

 

Megatron says, “I gathered the right to wear it.”

 

Tempest says, “Everything worth having needs to be fought for, doesn't it?” She pauses, and then says very quietly, “Did they ever laugh at you? Long ago...when

 

Megatron smirks. “Laughed at... scoffed at...” His optics flash for a second. “But I proved them all to be wrong...”

 

Tempest says, “I met a pack of Decepticons once.../real/ Decepticons...long ago.  When my crew was only a handful...the four in the photo. Oh, they laughed at us...called us rats, drove us off with their guns...” She laughs. “And look at me now...” She quiets. “And look at /us/ now.” She smiles at Megatron. “It's good to know I'm not the only one.”