Starscream: Rise of the Air Commander
Chapter 12: One Machine
The final locking struts of the arena slammed into place with a deep metallic boom.
Energy conduits flared to life along the perimeter, casting long green light across the slum district as the structure finished assembling. Already figures were beginning to gather along the outer walkways—workers drifting in from factories, repair yards, freight corridors, and lower-sector dwellings, drawn by the quiet promise of violence and something more dangerous than violence. Purpose had weight here. Starscream could feel it in the way the crowd moved, not aimless, not merely curious, but pulled toward the arena as if the structure had become the center of gravity for the whole district.
He stood beside Scrapper, studying the arena with clear interest. “A mobile arena.”
Scrapper nodded. “Build it fast. Tear it down faster.”
Starscream glanced at the rest of the crew. One mech dragged heavy barrier sections into position, another sealed joints along the arena wall, and a third hauled lighting towers into place with casual strength. Hook moved along one side of the structure, inspecting medical access points and emergency clearances with the sharp attention of a medic who expected damage and intended to be ready for it. Starscream had seen him work before, and the precision was unmistakable.
“A well-coordinated operation,” Starscream said.
Scrapper gave a faint shrug, though Starscream caught the pride beneath the motion. “We’re builders.”
Before Starscream could reply, a deep voice cut through the noise of construction.
“And fighters.”
Both mechs turned.
Megatron stepped out from the shadows beneath one of the half-collapsed structures bordering the yard. The dim industrial lights catch the scars across his armor as he approached with steady, unhurried steps. There was no need for announcement. The crowd noticed him almost instantly, the sound shifting in small waves before he had even reached the edge of the arena floor.
Soundwave followed several paces behind him, silent and controlled, his red visor reflecting the newly activated arena lights.
Scrapper grinned slightly. “There he is.”
Megatron’s red optics settled first on Scrapper, then on Starscream. “You arrived early, Senator.”
Starscream inclined his head slightly. “Observation requires preparation.”
Megatron stepped onto the edge of the arena floor, looking over the structure as his builders finished the final pieces. Starscream noticed, as he had before, that Megatron had come with only Soundwave. No guards. No fighters. No escort. The first time, that had seemed almost careless. After Skywarp’s report of the fatal match and the way the arena fighters looked to Megatron before stepping into combat, it no longer did.
Megatron did not need guards.
Starscream spoke calmly. “Your builders work quickly.”
“Efficiency is necessary.”
Scrapper chuckled quietly beside them. “He means the Enforcers.”
Megatron ignored the comment and looked back at Starscream. “I did not expect you before the crowds arrived.”
“I wanted to see how the arena appears.”
Megatron gestured toward the structure. “Now you have.”
Starscream studied the arena floor again. “An impressive design.”
Scrapper puffed slightly with pride. “Told you.”
Megatron’s optics shifted briefly toward the construction team as they completed the final lighting rigs. “They are essential.”
Starscream nodded slowly. “Yes.”
His gaze moved between Scrapper and the rest of the crew, then back to Megatron. Starscream had already reached the same conclusion. The Senate was chasing arenas, but the real strength of Megatron’s movement was not the arenas. It was the people who could build them anywhere, erase them quickly, and make the next gathering possible before enforcement even understood the last one had ended.
Megatron watched Starscream carefully. “You understand.”
Starscream folded his arms. “Yes.”
Megatron turned slightly toward the gathering crowd now filling the outer rings of the arena. “Good.” Then he added calmly, “Tonight you will understand more.”
The arena finished coming alive as the last of the lighting towers flared to full brightness. The gathered crowd thickened along the outer platforms—workers, laborers, factory crews still coated in industrial grime. The low hum of voices carried across the slum yard as anticipation built. It was not the clean noise of a Senate chamber, measured and amplified through polished systems. This was rougher. Hotter. The sound of mechs who had spent too many cycles being ignored finally gathering somewhere they expected to be heard.
Starscream remained near the edge of the arena structure beside Scrapper, watching the movement with analytical calm. Megatron had already moved toward the center platform. Soundwave disappeared into the shifting shadows near the outer wall, observing everything without drawing attention.
The air distorted beside Starscream.
A violet flash snapped into existence.
Skywarp appeared, landing casually on the platform. He looked around with a wide grin. “Oh yeah. This is the good one.”
Starscream did not even turn his head. “You were supposed to arrive quietly.”
Skywarp shrugged. “I did.”
Another voice came from behind them. Thundercracker stepped out from the crowd that had formed along the upper walkway. “I came the normal way.”
Skywarp laughed. “Boring.”
Thundercracker folded his arms as he looked over the arena below. He paused, then whistled quietly. “Alright. I’ll admit that’s impressive.”
The arena floor was packed now. Fighters moved through the gates on opposite sides, each escorted by small clusters of supporters from the crowd. The noise built quickly as the first combatants entered the ring.
Starscream studied everything. The structure. The people. The organization. The way Scrapper’s team remained near the functional edges rather than the center, ready to intervene if a barrier failed, if a fighter collapsed too close to the crowd, if enforcement appeared sooner than expected.
Skywarp leaned against the railing beside him. “So this is the construction team you were talking about?”
Starscream nodded slightly. “Yes.”
Skywarp looked down at Scrapper and the other builders finishing the outer support braces. “Green and purple. Same guys.”
Thundercracker frowned slightly. “They’re fast.”
“Faster than the Senate,” Starscream replied quietly.
The first fight began.
Metal clashed violently in the center of the arena as the crowd roared approval. Workers pounded on the railings while others shouted encouragement to the combatants. The fight was brutal but controlled by the boundaries around it: barriers placed to keep the crowd back, lights focused to draw every optic toward the arena floor, medics positioned where they could reach fallen fighters quickly.
Skywarp grinned. “Oh, this is great.”
Thundercracker watched the fight more carefully. “They’re not holding back.”
Starscream shook his head slightly. “No.”
Across the arena floor, Megatron stood near the fighter entrance, watching the matches with quiet intensity. Starscream noticed something else.
Megatron was not just observing.
The fighters looked to him.
Each one entering the arena passed him first. Some nodded. Some touched a fist briefly to their chest plating. Some simply met his gaze and moved on. But every one of them acknowledged him.
Skywarp noticed it too. “Oh.”
Thundercracker nodded slowly. “He’s running the whole thing.”
Starscream answered calmly, “Yes.”
The second fight ended quickly. The crowd erupted again.
Skywarp leaned forward over the railing. “So when does the big guy fight?”
Starscream’s optics shifted toward Megatron. “Last.”
Skywarp grinned. “Good.”
Thundercracker sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
The fights continued one after another. Steel rang against steel in the center of the arena as combatants clashed under the harsh industrial lighting. Each match ended quickly—sometimes with one fighter thrown against the barrier walls, sometimes with one left unmoving on the arena floor before Hook and the others moved in to drag them clear and stabilize what needed stabilizing. The crowd roared for every blow, but Starscream noticed they listened between fights, too. They listened to the names called, the grievances shouted from the railings, the muttered talk passing from worker to worker like current through a wire.
This was not merely entertainment.
The Senate had called it disorder because disorder was easier to dismiss than organization.
The next match ended with a loud crash against the barrier wall. The defeated fighter was carried out as the crowd shouted for the final bout. The arena lights dimmed slightly before flaring brighter again.
A deep metallic gate opened on one side of the arena.
Megatron stepped forward.
The reaction from the crowd was immediate. The noise rose like a physical force. Workers shouted his name, pounding the railings as he walked calmly to the center of the arena floor.
Skywarp leaned farther over the edge. “Oh yeah. This is what I came for.”
Thundercracker frowned slightly. “Wait.”
Another gate opened.
Then another.
And another.
Five fighters stepped into the arena.
Starscream’s optics narrowed slightly.
Skywarp blinked. “Hold up.”
Thundercracker straightened. “That’s not a duel.”
The five fighters spread out across the arena floor, forming a loose circle around Megatron. Each was larger than the previous combatants. Each carried heavier weapons. Each moved with the confidence of a mech who expected numbers to matter.
Skywarp looked at Starscream. “You seeing this?”
Starscream answered quietly, “Yes.”
Megatron remained where he stood, unmoved by the odds. The crowd was already roaring louder.
Skywarp grinned. “Oh, that’s not fair.”
Thundercracker shook his head. “No.” He watched the five fighters close in. “That’s an execution.”
Starscream’s gaze remained fixed on the center of the arena. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s a demonstration.”
The five fighters spread around Megatron slowly, weapons raised as the crowd howled its approval. The arena lights glared down on them, reflecting off armor plates scarred from earlier battles.
Skywarp leaned farther over the edge. “Five on one. Now this is interesting.”
Thundercracker shook his head. “This isn’t a match.”
Starscream did not answer.
Below them, Megatron stood perfectly still.
Waiting.
The first attacker rushed him from the left.
Megatron moved only when the strike was already coming. The clash echoed across the arena as he caught the blow, twisted, and hurled the fighter across the ring. The mech slammed into the barrier wall and collapsed, systems flickering before going dark.
The second fighter charged immediately.
Megatron met him head-on. The impact shook the floor. Within seconds, the second mech was down beside the first, armor dented inward where Megatron’s strike had landed.
The remaining three came together.
Skywarp laughed. “Oh, that’s not going to help.”
They attacked from three directions at once.
Megatron moved like a machine built for combat. He blocked one strike, pivoted under another, and drove a brutal blow into the chest of the third fighter. The mech collapsed instantly, systems failing as he hit the ground.
Two remained.
The fourth fighter lunged.
Megatron caught the mech’s arm, twisted it sharply, and sent him crashing into the arena floor with a thunderous impact.
The final fighter hesitated.
Only for a moment.
Then he rushed forward.
Megatron stepped into the attack and drove a single strike into the mech’s core.
The fighter dropped beside the others.
Silence fell across the arena.
Five mechs lay motionless around him.
None destroyed.
All offline.
Stasis.
Skywarp blinked. “Well.”
Thundercracker exhaled slowly. “That was… efficient.”
Starscream watched the arena floor carefully. Megatron had not killed them. He had simply removed them. The distinction mattered. Killing them would have been easy. Leaving them alive made the point sharper.
He could have killed them.
He had chosen not to.
Megatron looked over the fallen fighters for a moment before raising one arm.
The crowd quieted almost instantly.
His voice carried easily across the arena. “You have heard the Senate speak of law.”
Murmurs rippled through the audience.
“They claim these gatherings threaten order.” Megatron gestured toward the unconscious fighters around him. “Their Speaker hunts us even now.”
Starscream’s optics narrowed slightly.
Megatron’s voice hardened. “Sentinel Prime searches the streets of Kaon tonight.”
A ripple of anger moved through the crowd.
“And he does so without the approval of the Senate he claims to represent.”
The workers shouted in response.
Megatron lowered his arm slowly. “The system fears what it cannot control.” He looked around the arena. “But the workers of Cybertron are not so easily silenced.”
The roar of the crowd returned even louder than before.
Above them, Skywarp leaned back with a grin. “Yeah. That guy knows how to work a crowd.”
Thundercracker glanced toward Starscream.
Starscream had not taken his optics off Megatron.
Because now the speech meant something very different.
Megatron knew Sentinel was hunting the arena. Which meant someone had warned him. Starscream’s gaze shifted briefly toward the shadowed edge of the arena.
Soundwave stood there.
Watching everything.
Starscream folded his arms slowly.
Yes.
Soundwave was still ahead of the Senate.
The arena began to empty quickly once Megatron finished speaking. The fighters were already being carried off the floor by Scrapper’s team, the heavy-built green-and-purple mechs moving with practiced efficiency as they cleared the platform. Around them, the crowd broke apart in small clusters, slipping back into the maze of slum alleys and industrial corridors before Kaon’s enforcement patrols could arrive.
Above the arena, the lighting towers dimmed. Panels were already being unbolted. The arena would not exist much longer.
Starscream remained where he stood for a moment, watching the structure begin to dismantle piece by piece. The entire operation was astonishingly efficient.
Thundercracker glanced down at the rapid teardown. “They’re faster taking it apart than they were building it.”
Skywarp grinned. “Good thing too.”
Starscream’s optics shifted toward the fighter entrance where Megatron had stood moments earlier.
Empty.
Starscream stepped away from the railing. “I need to speak with him.”
Skywarp raised an optic. “Now?”
Thundercracker glanced toward the surrounding district. “Probably not the safest idea.”
Starscream moved toward the arena floor anyway.
By the time he reached the center of the structure, most of the crowd had vanished and the builders were already pulling down the outer support towers. Megatron was nowhere in sight.
But another familiar figure stood quietly near the shadowed edge of the arena.
Soundwave.
The blue mech watched the dismantling process without moving.
Starscream approached him. “You anticipated Sentinel’s search.”
Soundwave turned slightly. His red visor held steady. “Affirmative.”
“Megatron.”
“Unavailable.”
Starscream frowned slightly. “Convenient.”
Soundwave’s visor flicked once toward the distant skyline of Kaon. “Sentinel Prime approaches this sector.”
Starscream paused. “How close?”
“Within several kilometers.”
Thundercracker’s voice crackled faintly through Starscream’s comm. “That tracks.”
Starscream looked back at Soundwave. “And Megatron?”
Soundwave stepped away from the arena edge. “Follow.”
Starscream hesitated only briefly before moving after him.
They left the slum yard just as the final arena wall sections were lowered behind them. Within minutes, the entire structure would be gone. Soundwave led him through a narrow corridor between collapsed buildings, then down a steep service ramp that descended beneath the industrial district. The noise of Kaon faded as they moved deeper underground.
Finally, Soundwave stopped at a heavy reinforced door embedded in the rock. He keyed a short code into the panel, and the door slid open.
Starscream stepped inside.
The chamber beyond was larger than he expected—an underground operations room carved from the foundation of the city itself. Screens lined one wall, displaying Kaon’s industrial sectors and transport routes. Patrol lines moved across several maps in live threads of light. Industrial outputs scrolled in one corner. Crowd dispersal routes blinked and vanished as groups cleared the arena district above.
Megatron stood near the center of the room.
He looked up as they entered.
“Sentinel is close.”
Soundwave replied, “Yes.”
Megatron’s red optics shifted toward materialism. “And yet you remain.”
Starscream folded his arms calmly. “I wanted to finish our conversation.”
Megatron regarded him for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Good.”
Outside, somewhere above the bunker’s reinforced ceiling, Sentinel Prime continued hunting an arena that no longer existed.
The heavy door slid shut behind them with a deep metallic thud.
The bunker beneath Kaon was quiet compared to the chaos of the arena above. Large monitors lined the walls, each displaying different sectors of the city—transport routes, factory outputs, patrol movements, and signals Starscream did not recognize at first glance. He recognized the purpose immediately, though.
Coordination.
Megatron was not just holding fights.
He was organizing.
Megatron stood near the central console, arms folded as he studied one of the displays. Soundwave moved to another station without a word, already reviewing new information streams.
Starscream stepped farther into the room. “You run your operations from here.”
Megatron nodded slightly. “For now.”
Starscream glanced over the tactical displays again. “Sentinel will find the arena site soon.”
Megatron did not look concerned. “Yes.”
“And he will find nothing.”
“Correct.”
Starscream allowed the faintest hint of a smile. “Efficient.”
Before the conversation could continue, the bunker door opened again. Heavy footsteps entered the chamber. The construction team from the arena stepped inside, carrying equipment cases and dismantled structural pieces. Scrapper walked at the front of the group, wiping a smear of industrial residue from his hands.
“Arena’s gone,” Scrapper reported. “Not a trace left up there.”
Behind him, the rest of the team began stacking equipment near the wall. Starscream watched them again in the clearer lighting of the bunker.
Green armor.
Purple highlights.
Massive industrial frames built for hauling and construction.
Scrapper stood at the front without needing to announce himself as leader. Hook moved immediately toward the damaged equipment and the few injured mechs brought in behind the team, already assessing who needed repair and who only needed time. The large hauler Skywarp had been irritating earlier set down a support case with enough care to suggest he knew exactly how much weight everything in the room could take. The others moved around one another without collision, without debate, without wasted instruction.
Almost like a single coordinated machine.
Starscream spoke before he even thought better of it.
“You know…”
Scrapper looked over.
Starscream gestured lightly toward the group, mouth curving with dry amusement. “With the way you operate, it’s a wonder you bother being six separate mechs. Imagine if you were just one machine.”
Scrapper blinked. “Uh.”
Then he laughed. “That’d be something.”
The other builders chuckled as they set down their equipment. One of them muttered something about needing a larger repair bay. Hook gave Starscream a look that suggested the medical implications alone were enough to make the remark offensive.
Starscream shrugged slightly. “Just an observation.”
He had not meant anything by it.
Just sarcasm.
A passing thought.
Across the room, however, Shockwave had just entered through a side corridor.
He stopped when he heard the remark.
The single yellow optic turned slowly toward the construction team.
Then toward Starscream.
He said nothing.
But the idea had already taken hold.
Starscream had meant the comment as a joke.
Shockwave did not treat it as one.