Fatal Wounds

by Names are Unimportant

2004

“I fear the wounds…are fatal.”

And with those words, I once more prove what a failure I am. My specialty has always been the more theoretical applications of science; for all my skills and the occasionally useful things I design, I am no builder, no maker of things. That task has always been left to Wheeljack. And though I am certainly able to perform perfunctory repairs under a variety of conditions, I am hardly the expert that Ratchet was. Because both of them are now dead, casualties of this increasingly desperate and senseless conflict, the task of repairing our fallen leader came to me. And I have failed.

The others, Ultra Magnus, Kup, and the like accept my announcement with able determination and a seeming lack of blame. Their sense of loss surely overrides any desire to place blame, but I find it small consolation. While Megatron may have ravaged his body, it is I who failed to save him. Though, perhaps, it is not my lack of ability that has led to this failure, but the other failures I have made.

After all, there are few who can say that have twice had ample opportunity to slay the Mighty Megatron and declined to do so. The first time when circumstances forced Bumblebee, Brawn—another senseless casualty, already I find myself focusing solely on his contributions, rather than the merciless way in which he used to taunt and undermine me—and myself to shrink down and enter Megatron’s body in a foolish attempt to deactivate the Heart of Cybertron.

Brawn, eschewing logic, patience, and rationality, suggested we attempt to end the threat of Megatron and the Heart by dismantling Megatron’s brain in as violent a fashion as possible. Considering that Megatron was currently propelling himself though the air while his body still contained a very volatile miniature energy maximizer, this could have had catastrophic results, not only for us, but for much of the surrounding landscape. Still, it is possible that the resulting explosion would not have been significantly devastating. And one must consider, when weighed against all those whom Megatron had killed and all those he likely would have gone on to kill had he not been stopped, what were our lives worth? Each of us, when we swore an oath of fealty to the Autobot cause, knew that we might be called upon to sacrifice ourselves. Ending the threat of Megatron… I believe there are worse ways to be deactivated.

That was the first time. Because Megatron’s defeat was less prudent than deactivating the Heart, I thought little of it at the time, satisfied that we had completed our mission. Admittedly, I also drew some small satisfaction from proving to Brawn that my own meager abilities were at least the equal of his. Granted, such respect from my now fallen comrade did not last long, but I am afraid I must admit I savored putting the little barbarian in his place at the time. Curious, how something that once filled me with a guilty sort of pleasure now brings only regret.

The second time, I played an even more active hand in preserving Megatron’s life. Rather than not allowing it because it might have jeopardized a mission, I actively acted to save the tyrant’s life. Suffering from Cosmic Rust, Megatron had arranged to have me kidnapped and brought before him. I was told that I would either save him…or be killed myself. And, though I had always been prepared to sacrifice myself in the name of the Autobot cause, that same cause calls for the preservation of all life—even the life of one so repugnant as Megatron—unless there is no other viable option. The same code that prompted me to fight against everything he stood for equally prompted me to do everything in my power to save him in his time of need.

…I should have let him die. Few beings are simply so terrible, as grotesque in their perversions, as purely evil as Megatron. More of a living force of destruction, the universe would have benefited in no way by his continued existence. As a scientist, I understand well the concept of the greater good. Many times, an idea or invention has had to be held back, because society at the time would not be ready to reap its benefits. The humans frequently suppress newer and more efficient technologies because of the various societal costs involved.

Megatron’s demise and the loss of my personal honor and life, or Megatron’s continued existence and the further loss of innocent life? I know what I chose, and it not only almost lead to the deaths of untold innocents, but also nearly of the deaths of all my fellow Autobots. A stain on my spark… How much is my own life, my own honor worth, when one considers that such a choice, a choice to remain intrinsically pure, has led to the path it has taken today? If I knew then, that by saving Megatron, I was leading to the future death of Optimus Prime, would I have acted in the same fashion? Should I have acted as I did?

Optimus… Optimus himself, Prowl, Ironhide, and, yes, even Brawn…they would all tell me that I made the right choice. That acting as we do, working to preserve life, no matter whose it is, is what we Autobots were meant to do. They would tell me that acting with compassion, no matter what future sacrifices it may bring, is what separates us from the Decepticons. They would say that maintaining that distinction is important, for the moment we become like our enemies, no matter how nobly we would still fight, we would have already lost where it truly mattered…

I suppose it matters little now. Optimus Prime is dead and so, mostly likely, is Megatron. Whether or not I am to truly blame for this as a result of my earlier actions, I shall always carry the guilt that I likely could have prevented this, yet chose not to. But I shall not allow this guilt to consume me. Instead, I shall continue to dedicate my efforts to the Autobot cause and support our new leader. If, by some miracle, I somehow managed to redeem myself for my failures, so much the better.

Optimus Prime is dead and there is naught to do but carry on.

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