). The idea is to show the characters in our TF universe, as developed in the roleplay, as who they were before, during, and after the Great War. It will be a tale of action, romance, and drama; of good and evil. Not that much of this has been developed yet but as we go along it will take shape into a large and beautiful beast. So without further ado, I give you the first part.Before you read this you may wish to take a glance at TT's Cambreaker fic as found at the link below. Much of what I'm doing comes from ideas he is writing about.
http://www.transformerland.com/forum/vi ... php?t=3371
Chapter I: The Gladiator
The crowd roared as the gladiator emerged into the light of the coliseum. He was the favorite to win haven taken so many of these matches in the past. This was just another step toward immortality, toward his destiny. It matter not who the opponent was, Megatron knew he would crush them. After all he had already gone against every one of the Senate’s silly little rules. He was perfection. His own body had become a tool of destruction, death upon his enemies in the pits. He glanced at the weapon on his arm, a tool of his daily life now twisted into a tool of this life.
Megatron looked at the ‘bot that emerged at the other end of the coliseum. The crowd made hardly any sound for this one, an up-and-coming foreman at one of the mines. Another small town tough who thought that he had a shot at gladiatorial fame. Megatron smiled, another easy victory. The challenger raised his weapons in defiance, preparing for the battle, and issuing a challenge to his opponent. He had seen it dozens of times before. Seeing that Megatron had not even so much as drawn a weapon, the challenger charged. He raised his weapon high, the spiked metal ball on the end of a chain swinging wildly as he swung at Megatron.
Seeing his opponent’s predictable attack incoming, Megatron drew a sword. It was heavy even by pit standards. He carried no shield like most of these combatants, feeling no need to defend himself. As his opponent swung high and attempted to crush his faceplate with the heavy weapon, he swung low with the double handed weapon. He was rewarded with the sickening sound of crunching metal as the sword pierced his opponent’s armored exoskeleton and sank deep into the actuators of his right leg. The sudden shock caused the attacking ‘bot to falter and allow his weapon to fall to the ground before striking Megatron.
Seizing the opportunity, Megatron threw his own sword down and grabbed his opponent around the neck with one powerful arm. His circuitry surging with energy, Megatron lifted the challenger high and slammed him onto the cold ground, one of his signature moves. The challenger faltered, unsure of what to do. His side sizzled and he found that he was unable to move his leg. Still he attempted to stand and face his opponent. This was all Megatron needed. As the other ‘bot struggled to stand, he took aim with the modified fusion cutter on his arm and spoke.
“My fellow Cybertronians, the victory that I win this day is not my own but one for all of our kind. This ‘bot is not a fighter; he is a servant of the Council and the Senate. His station is a reminder of the oppression we suffer as members of the lower class. We, the downtrodden workers of Cybertron, are the backbone of this world, not the aristocracy. We are the soul of Cybertron! And I have this to say to our oppressors.”
There came another massive roar from the crowd as he charged his cannon and fired, erasing the other ‘bots spark. As the lifeless body of his opponent clattered against the metallic ground, Megatron raised his arms in victory. His devoted fans and fellow workers began swarming into the pit, ready to pay tribute to the victor. A few moved the remains of his fallen opponent away to some scrapheap. Others rushed forward with paint, ready to cover his armor with the tattoos that signified him as the victor. They were fanatics, cheering endlessly for their champion, the hero of the working class. Megatron smiled.
Sometime later he made his way through the dirty alleys of Kaon’s underbelly to a small run down building. A dimly glowing neon sign indicated that it was “Kaon’s Finest”, a drinking establishment. Megatron liked the feel of this place, so gritty yet inviting. He thought that perhaps he would own one of his own someday. But that was but one of his ambitions. The smell of carcinogax wafted through the air as Megatron stepped inside. A much smaller ‘bot, the owner of the establishment rushed forward from behind the counter to greet him.
“Megatron, it’s an honor. Your usual booth? Your associate is waiting.”
“Yes, that will be fine Halimax.”
The bartender led him across the small room to a corner booth, away from the entrance but with enough vantage to allow one to keep an eye on everyone inside. Another ‘bot was already sitting on the opposite side of the booth as Megatron seated himself. The other was tall and lean, painted in red and silver. He looked up from his drink as Megatron arrived, obviously in thought about something.
“Another victory, Megatron?”
“An easy victory, but one that furthers my agenda. He was a foreman at one of the new mines. A young opportunist.”
“Tell me you crushed his spark.”
“Decimated.”
“Well done my friend. Soon we will be able to move against them.”
“Patience Starscream. Our time will come. How many of the fringe settlements have you contacted?”
“Almost all of them. Your support base is growing. Don’t you think it is time for us to make a move? We’ve waited like this…”
“I said, patience! One day I will be the rightful ruler of Cybertron.”
“And I your loyal second in command.”
“We shall see. Now tell me. What of our interests in the senate, has there been any news?”
