Sang Real (Royal Blood)

By: Master Solo

Disclaimer:  I don’t own anything except for my character.

Note:  I’ve seen G1 only in Chinese, except for the movie, which I watched in English and I haven’t seen Beast Wars S3 in years.  It’s canon-compliant, as far as I know and the title doesn’t refer to the Da Vinci Code.

In the dark streets of Colony Omicron, few bots could hear a young bot scream and protest as the one that humans called his father dragged him toward the largest of the secret labs of Cybertron.  The older bot was a Predacon, but not just any Predacon, for he was the one whom Dr. Archville created from the combined datatracks of a Predacon femme and the renowned Starscream.  Because his creator was an immortalized human, the bot thought in human terms from time to time and considered himself Starscream’s long lost son.

The child squirmed in his father’s grip, but to no avail.  The older bot bit back his disgust as he reminded himself of the purpose of his visit to the Maximals, aside from the pretence of a trade agreement with one of their colonies.

The world seemed more and more contemptible to the Predacon as he was reminded of who ruled Cybertron and who lead his own faction.  He clenched his fists as tight as he could, despite his son’s protests of pain.  All of that should have gone to him, and if not him, that idiot Maximal that he had for a sister, by right of blood, for if Starscream was crowned King of Cybertron, then it would have been only logical for the rulership to land on the Decepticon’s descendants.  But no, the Autobot descendants seized the power and the Tripredecus came out of nowhere to take control of the Predacon race.

Unlike most other Predacons, that one hated the three brothers with a passion that burned to the depths of the Pit.  He hated working as one of their officials over his territory rather than as king over the colony.

The child whined again, but the screech of his feet sliding across the cold, metal floor overrode the irritable whining.  The Predacon was more than pleased to have the screaming of the Maximal femme’s creation replaced with a more satisfying screech.  Just some time more, and Cybertronian control would fall back into rightful hands.

Acid rain began to pour on the bots, and the older bot doubled his pace until he entered the vast halls of the underground lab.  He saw the advertisement for volunteers for an experiment and held back his grudge against the other faction temporarily.  Letting that femme create a Maximal from his datatracks had its use, especially when it came to tests that were limited to Maximals.

“Daddy, please!  I don’t like it here!  I wanna see Mommy!”  The child begged, but to no avail, even as echoes of his pleas resounded in the empty, dark halls of the ill-maintained lab.

The older bot dragged the child more roughly than ever as his contempt rose.  How dared this insolent Maximal resist destiny and royal reward?  A pair of large doors before the pair hissed open and the Predacon immediately hurled his son into the arms of a waiting scientist.

“He is too young to volunteer.  I presume you are his creator?”  Asked the scientist.

“Yes.”  Replied the darkly colored Predacon.  “Consider this a donation towards scientific advancement.”  The bot then added the lie.

“Daddy, I’m scared!  I wanna go home.”  Protested the child.

“He is unwilling. We will need further reason from you to be able to use this spark.”  Sighed the scientist.

“Sahng Ray-Ahl.”  The Predacon carefully pronounced the words in the ancient, human tongue, leaving the scientist to wonder at the words’ meaning.

“Very well, Governor.  I will record your name amongst those who have donated generously to our lab.”  Thanked the scientist before setting the child down in a chair and calling for his colleagues.  As the massive, metal doors his shut, the child’s moans of protest escalated to screams.

“And so it begins.  Rise, my puppet king of Cybertron.  Let the sang real return.”  Muttered the Predacon as he waited by the door.  If those Maximals’ promise rang true, then he would soon receive into his arm a powerful bot with not only an immortal spark, but also powerful armor that tapped into the powers of the spark.  Soon, by his guiding hand, Starscream’s grandson would raze his family’s opponents and the line would be restored to its rightful place as rulers of the planet.  Then, at last, his enemies would be punished for making him advocate that idiot’s ideal called peace.

The End, until Bad Spark, that is, so watch the Beast Wars for the end of this story.