HONORING 23 YEARS OF METATISIC
1985 - 2008

“Sar--Sarterius…” The yellow Herak was practically gasping, he was venting so hard. “V-voyager. General Sarterius is coming for Voyager!”

SCENE SUMMERY: Suspicious of the visiting Autobots, Metatisic has order his chief-general, the thundering green storm cloud, Sarterius to collect the traveling envoy immediately!

SOME WORDS TO KNOW..

Dourjer -- (doe-ger) The ancient title of a Decepticon monarch/king
Sarterius -- (Sar-ter-i-us) A general-in-chief serving under a Decepticon named, Metatisic. He’s a stern and unmovable mech who feels everyone and everything is guilty until proven innocence.
Herak -- First generation Prototype ‘seekers’. They are the first of their kind to have alt. modes of flight., Herak from Herakty (Horus of the two horizons)
Quodlibet -- (Kwad-li-bay) He’s a fellow herak under Coronach’s command
Canticle -- (Kant-i-kel) He’s a fellow herak under Coronach’s command


Bractos - OM-T18; Officer’s mess - The Iysurus



The blue Herak watched her for a long time. This-- self flagellation Steelheart was putting herself through had a great deal more to do with the city she was looking at, he realized, than the battle back on Cybertron. It was not hate-- but what was it? There were far too many questions and he wanted answers.

“What troubles you?”

Her voice caught. “Ah…Ah realized that…” She half turned. “You don’t hafta be nice to me anymore, Commander.”

“Commander?” He scoffed. "...What is this? You will call me by my name or you will not speak to me."

Steelheart grimaced. “Ah ain’t got the right to.”

“What?! Did I correct you? Of course you have the right,” Coronach insisted. He put a hand to his forehead, his temper finally showing. “Your behavior becomes progressively more bizarre! Is this self-depreciating manner something your people often exhibit? Is that why you would march into the dust, unknowing of what you would meet? Is that why you torture yourself now? Tell me!”

She’d turned the rest of the way somewhere during his tirade. Those extraordinary blue optics looked up at him. Her brow furrowed and Steelheart glanced down, then back quickly. It was as if she was getting herself worked up to answer all his questions.

“Tell me.” He repeated in a softer voice.

“We left cause we was desperate…”

Coronach didn’t dare even vent as she finished. Dread crept up along his cables, causing him to tense. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers.

“Ah ain’t meant to be hateful or not appreciate all this.” She gestured to Bractos. “Ah was thinking again, an astro-second ago, that it woulda been better for me to just cease functioning in the Zone and not know… because now Ah realize what it must be like to be really free — and Ah ain’t sure we’ll ever get there.”

“You ... you’re a ..You’re a slave you mean?” He stated the obvious in astonishment.

Steelheart nodded, wrapping her arms around herself to keep the very answers she was giving at bay. “Ah was. We all were.” She continued quietly, “Ah’m sorry for not tellin’ you afore… but… Ah was ashamed. Awhile back before y’all found us, we made a deal not to tell if’n we didn’t have to…” Her lips pulled tight in a grimace. “And here Ah am, breakin mah promise. Some leader Ah am.”

She forced her arms down and one went back to the wall. A brace.

Coronach put a hand on her shoulder again and let it linger this time. He hoped it would impart some sort of comfort. “I think that you are a very good leader. Better even than some of the mechs I know.” He looked out over the city. “Though I am ever awed by our mighty Bractos… I too have taken it for granted like the others. Perhaps that is why your party alone has been able to cross the Zone. To remind us of all we have — all our ancestors fought and died for. We speak the words… but do we listen to them?” The blue Herak shook his head, falling silent. The view was magnificent, and he’d seen it almost every day for vorns. What else had he been missing?

He almost didn’t notice her hand coming away from the wall. Steelheart gave no sign of having moved, and, had he not felt the slight vibration through her shoulder, he would not have acknowledged the movement at all. The implied trust was pleasing. She knew he would not let her fall.

“What was your Master like, that you would run so very far from him?” Coronach asked, at length. He wasn’t quite sure what reaction he would have to the answer, whatever it might be.

“It was a Quint, and they only make them horrible things one way — brutal.” Steelheart glanced at him, but didn’t make a move to dislodge his hand. “Ah didn’t think Ah ran, but now that you put it that way, Ah didn’t feel free even after Ah speared that ugly…”

"CORONACH!” Quodlibet interrupted. He was running fast through the Mess Hall by the heavy staccato of his feet. The other Herak were trying to get him to slow down, by the sounds of things and the Cybertronians were getting restless.

The blue Herak sighed. Damn his timing.

“Pardon me, Steelheart. I must see what new crisis has flustered my wingmate.” He released her shoulder reluctantly, stepping away.

The fembot smiled. “Sure.”

Finding himself smiling in response, he tamped down on it. He turned and strode through the archway

“What is it now, Quodlibet?” He asked with a quirked brow ridge.

“Sar--Sarterius…” The yellow Herak was practically gasping, he was venting so hard. “V-voyager. General Sarterius is coming for Voyager!”

The Herak looked at each other and then at their Commander. Coronach could offer no solution. He was just as confused, but in new instant alert. “Why?”

“D-don’t know!” Quodlibet choked out.

Canticle frowned. “Let me round them up at least. It won’t do us any good to have them scrambling to finish their lunches — The general is not patient.” He clapped his hands and called for all of them to hurry up and make themselves presentable.

“Sarterius is furious!” The yellow Herak grabbed Coronach’s arm. “FURIOUS!”

“What about? What happened?!”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t hear. I just — I w-wanted to warn everyone.” Quodlibet’s admission was almost a whine.

The blue seeker put a hand to his forehead in frustration. This wasn’t his life. It couldn’t possibly be. It was someone else’s that had been rudely thrust on him. He knew what his life was like, and it didn’t involve all this rampant chaos.

“Warn us of what?”

With a sick feeling, the bottom almost dropped out of Coronach’s fueltank. “Steelheart, do not step in front of me. Stay behind me and face the front — do not turn, do not raise your optics off the floor.” He called to Canticle, “Form them up behind us. Don’t let them stray.” Then to Blázon and Carillon, “Stand at the ledge. If Sarterius’ Decepticons are coming from that direction, I want to know.”

He was obeyed instantly, but dread still settled tightly near his cyclotron.

“What’s going on, Coronach? Y’all are settin’ yourselves like there’s gonna be a fight.” Steelheart whispered.

“No. We are forming up to prevent one. Sarterius… has a temper.” Once everyone was in place and Canticle and Quodlibet flanked him, he heard the sound of approaching peds thundering beyond the closed doors. “NO ONE SPEAK UNLESS THEY ARE SPOKEN TO!” It was the last order the blue Herak was able to give before those doors were whisked open.

(Scene from Metatisic: Part Fourteen, chapter 17 - Truth revelations)