Last One Standing chp 23
Title: Last One Standing
Universe: G1 (Avalon AU)
Rating: M
Characters: Soundwave, Jazz, Shockwave, assorted other Decepticons, multiple original characters
Content Advisory: mentions of past rape, mentions of child abuse, Plug and Play intimacy
Summary: as one mech travels the road of life, he is touched and changed by many others along the way. but in the end, he finishes as alone as he began.
Notes: this is more material that i finished during NaNo 2012 and then never managed to post. i am approximately The Worst at this, apparently.
remember those tissues from last chapter? KEEP THEM HANDY.
“It’s still all wrong.”
Soundwave looked at Bluenote sadly when the red mech made his proclamation. Blue was right; everything was still wrong and probably wouldn’t be right again for a very long time.
“I know.”
“What do we do to fix it? I’m afraid that Jazz is going to go next, if we can’t bring his spirits back up.” The other mech left his own low spirits unmentioned, but they both knew that Bluenote was as deeply depressed as Jazz.
“I don’t know,” Soundwave replied, frowning. “I wish I did.”
“Yeah.” Bluenote sat down at the table and wrapped his hands around his elbows in a gesture that made him look incredibly vulnerable. “Will you play something for me? I need to hear some music for a change.”
The blue mech nodded. He needed to hear some music too, and it seemed likely that it would help the others as well.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
After Symphony deactivated Woodwind had become even more physically affectionate, almost as if he had to constantly reassure himself of Soundwave’s presence. He even started creeping up onto Soundwave’s chest during recharge, head resting over the larger mech’s spark. Soundwave understood how much Wind needed this comfort and did his best to provide it.
“I just miss him so much,” the silver mech whispered. “He was always there, always part of our lives. He loved us both so much and we loved him and I don’t know how to keep going without him.”
“We will manage,” Soundwave rested a hand on the smaller mech’s head and rubbed his thumb gently along Wind’s cheek plate.
“But how? Jazz and I can barely leave the berth in the morning and we’re both doing poorly at work. I even heard Flashfire talking about transferring me out of the messenger corps last cycle. I know I’m doing badly, but I can’t make myself care enough to do more.”
The blue mech held his friend more tightly. “Grief and anger pass. We will get through this, because we are together.”
“But I miss him so much that it hurts, and it won’t stop hurting. I just want it to stop hurting, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“It will,” Soundwave promised.
“When?”
“Soon,” the blue mech lied. Then he began humming, hoping to soothe Woodwind into recharge.
Woodwind stopped questioning, and clung more tightly to the larger mech instead.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Fueling times became more strained without Symphony’s calm guidance to keep them together. Woodwind and Jazz were deeply depressed, Bluenote was angry and Stockpile was rarely home enough for any of them to know how he was doing. Soundwave wasn’t sure he was doing any better, but he was functional and capable of working and he did what he could to try and bring them back up.
He wasn’t sure it would ever work, but he kept trying. He couldn’t bear to lose more of his family.
It was when he began clearing away Symphony’s belongings, something none of them had the spark to do for almost two deca-cycles, that he found something that could help.
In a neat stack on the composer’s work table, were five datapads, all of them blinking to indicate they had important messages to be conveyed. The first lit up when he touched the screen, addressing the pad to Stockpile. Quickly flipping through the stack he found pads for Jazz, Woodwind and Bluenote. And himself.
Symphony’s elegant script filled the page, tightly compacted as if he old mech had needed to fit as much as possible into a single screen of text.
Soundwave,
I hope that, before you receive this, I will have found the courage to tell you in person how much I love you and how proud of you I am. You were the creation I never had, the big brother Jazz always needed but didn’t get until it was almost too late and a balm to my weary spark. You soothe this whole family with your quiet, steady ways and your calm strength. I know that you came through unimaginable horrors to gain that strength, but it has gone a far distance for helping my own creations.
You are a strong, wonderful young mech with a bright future--assuming the current world leaves any of us a future. You will do anything you set yourself to achieve, because you have the strength and courage for it. You will change the world, I have little doubt.
I am happy and honored to have been able to call you family these meta-cycles since we met. I hope and pray that I brought you some of that same happiness during these hard times.
The others will lean on you heavily, but don’t let their burdens keep you from sharing your own with them. You need them as much as they need you. Bluenote, especially, will need to know that he’s still worth something right now and helping you cope will give him a purpose.
Whatever you do, don’t lose your music. That will sustain you through all the hard times, even if the world is burning around you. There will be times, in fact, that it is the only thing that keeps you going. Your music can also be the balm others need for their own weary sparks, as it helped soothe me over these last few cycles. This will be both a blessing and a curse, but don’t hide from it the way I did when Requiem left for the plant.
My fondest wish for you is that you build your own family, and that your creations love you as brightly and thoroughly as mine. Don’t be afraid to embrace the creations of another if they need you and don’t be afraid to shower all your love on the people who matter most.
Shine brightly, my creation. I love you.
Symphony
Soundwave’s hands trembled slightly with emotion when he finished reading, but for the first time in cycles the emotion wasn’t grief or despair.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Bluenote was sitting at their table playing his digital flute when Soundwave and Woodwind came out of their room for their morning fuel. Neither of them could remember the last time the red mech had played his flute--it had to be around the time Requiem deactivated--but Woodwind smiled when he heard it.
They retrieved their fuel from the storage cabinet and sat down to listen. Woodwind was still wearing that small smile and Soundwave found himself echoing it, despite the fact that Blue’s song was slow and melancholy. The red mech seemed to be enjoying it as well, based on the less slumped posture in his back and shoulders.
“That was lovely,” Wind said when the piece was finished. “I’ve missed hearing you play.”
“I’ve missed playing,” Bluenote said. He took a drink of his energon, then returned his fingers to the flute. “I didn’t realize how much until I read Symphony’s letter.”
“I’m glad Soundwave found those.” Woodwind reached out and gave Soundwave’s hand. “We all needed that.”
“We did,” Blue agreed. “I just wish he’d been able to say it all in person.”
“We all wish that,” Jazz said, joining them at the table. “Just like we all wish he was still here. But Symphony said we had to keep going and that we would be okay as long as we’re together. And he’s right. I’ve been… stupid about it, and I’m sorry.”
“We’ve all be a little stupid about it,” Woodwind assured the black and white mech. “But now we move on together, like Symphony wanted.”
“And we make music,” Bluenote added. “Because that’s really the best way to remember him.”
“Just what he would have wanted, too,” Jazz told them.
“Don’t lose the music,” Soundwave said softly, knowing that it was as true for all of them as it had been for him.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Flashfire wants me to train for the security team.”
They all looked at Stockpile in shock as the older mech dropped into his favorite chair. Woodwind set his stringbox aside and moved to his creator’s side worriedly. Bluenote and Soundwave set aside their instruments as well, and Jazz laid his stylus on the table with an audible thunk.
“What? Why does he want you on the security team?”
Stockpile reached an arm out to his creation tiredly, and folded Wind into an embrace. “The terrorists have been absorbed by the Decepticons. Fire’s afraid they’ll start moving on the refineries again, now that they aren’t squabbling over territory.”
Jazz frowned deeply. “When did that happen?”
“Last cycle, apparently.”
“Why didn’t our contacts tell us?” Bluenote gave jazz a dark look. “That’s the sort of thing we should have known already, so we could be prepared.”
“I know that, Blue.” Jazz picked his stylus back up and chewed the end absently, oblivious to the looks the rest of the family was giving them. “Maybe Quake doesn’t know yet. It’s possible that it was being kept under wraps until the army was back from Nyon.”
“Jazz.” Stockpile sat up and pinned the black and white mech with a stern look. “I think you better explain what the two of you are talking about. Now.”
Soundwave nodded in agreement. Bluenote looked down at the table, either angry or embarrassed. Jazz shrugged one shoulder, resigned to their secret being out.
“I’ve been running messages for the Elite Guard since a bit before your old apartments burned down.” The black and white gave them a half-smile. “It put energon on the table, and then it helped keep us a step ahead of whatever badness was coming. Quake was my first contact, and best friend in the guard. Blue joined up right after we moved in above the tavern.”
“Were you ever going to tell us?” The gold mech looked angry.
“What would you have done?” Bluenote replied. “You would have told us to stop, which we couldn’t do without either starving our whole family or endangering a lot of lives in the army. It was better if you didn’t know, because then we didn’t have to choose to fuel our family or starve them.”
“It was good pay,” Jazz added. “Enough energon for all of us every day, for every trip. We bartered off some of it, for parts and maintenance and that upgrade to Symphony’s composition tablet, but most of it came home and kept us alive.”
Stockpile’s face remained dark, bordering on truly angry, but Woodwind looked thoughtful and Soundwave understood completely. Had he been given the same opportunity as Jazz and Bluenote, he would have also taken the chance to help his family survive.
“And if you had been deactivated?” Stockpile kept his anger in check, but only barely.
“Quake would have made sure you knew what had happened and that we were brought back.” Jazz’s tone grew more serious. “What we do is less dangerous than what all those soldiers out there do, anyway. We run between posts in government held territory, never anyplace where there are officials and never near any of the military bases. And you can’t say you would have done less, not if Symphony’s life was hanging in the balance. And it was, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“That isn’t fair,” Stockpile replied. “You know I would have done anything for him and I was doing the best I could.”
“Stop, both of you.” Soundwave stood up, drawing their attention and making both Jazz and Symphony look at him. “You both did what you could to keep us all safe and alive. Fighting over right or wrong is pointless, when neither of you was wrong. Symphony lived as long as he did because of what all of us did, and that should be enough.”
“It is enough,” Woodwind broke in from his position at Stockpile’s side. “We’re still here and functioning and we had Symphony for metacycles longer than we would have otherwise. That’s all that matters.”
“And if they’re deactivated while they’re out? Will it still be enough then?” The elder mech’s voice was worn down, almost defeated.
“Yes,” Woodwind replied. “Even then. Because they’re doing everything they can to take care of us.”
“I know you’re afraid to lose us,” Bluenote said, “But we’ll be okay. This is what we chose and we’re both very good at it.”
“Fine. I couldn’t stop you if I tried, anyway.” Stockpile rubbed a hand tiredly over his faceplates. “I’m going to recharge; my training starts in the morning. But we’ll discuss this more later. From now on, you two keep us all in the loop. No more surprises like this.”
“No more surprised,” Jazz agreed.
“We don’t want you to worry,” Blue added. “Not any more than you already do, anyway.”
Woodwind accompanied Stockpile when the older mech levered himself out of the chair and made his way to his recharge room. Jazz looked down at the table and Bluenote fidgeted with the keys of his flute.
“That wasn’t how I’d planned to tell you,” the black and white mech said softly.
Soundwave tilted his head curiously. “How had you planned?”
“Well, I had hoped it would be when we recruited you. Then you got that promotion and you weren’t the best candidate anymore. After that, I didn’t know how I was going to tell you.” Jazz laid his stylus on the table before he could chew it more. “I knew I was going to have to soon, though. Blue and I were going on runs that wouldn’t be able to be covered up with our usual refinery duties.”
“Does Flashfire know?”
“Fire’s one of our contacts,” Bluenote replied. “He’s really in charge of this refinery, but he also helps move intel for the Guard. The jobs here were real, but he also wanted us close so that we could be more useful to him. Quake has lots of runners, but they’re harder to recruit here.”
“I understand,” Soundwave told them. “Just be careful. I would be lost without you.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The Decepticons remained quiet for nearly a metacycle after taking over the terrorist groups inhabiting the mines. It seemed that perhaps that would be the end of the rebellion and some kind of peace talks could begin that would move their people forward without violence, and Zeta Prime even made motions to open such a dialogue.
And then a member of the Guard was caught attempting to assassinate the leader of the Decepticons. Megatron was enraged, and returned the assassin’s corpse to the Prime filled with high-heat explosives. Word among the Jazz and Bluenote’s contacts was that they were still finding pieces of Zeta imbedded in the walls and that there was some sort of power struggle involved in the succession of the next Prime.
The confusion of the power vacuum left the remaining ruling bodies ripe for attack, and attack the Decepticons did. Twenty highly ranked senators and their aides were deactivated before the Guard pulled together enough mechpower to beat them back to the mines.
Sentinel Prime emerged just after the Decepticons went back into hiding and addressed the issue aggressively and decisively.
He declared war on Megatron and his Decepticons.
Universe: G1 (Avalon AU)
Rating: M
Characters: Soundwave, Jazz, Shockwave, assorted other Decepticons, multiple original characters
Content Advisory: mentions of past rape, mentions of child abuse, Plug and Play intimacy
Summary: as one mech travels the road of life, he is touched and changed by many others along the way. but in the end, he finishes as alone as he began.
Notes: this is more material that i finished during NaNo 2012 and then never managed to post. i am approximately The Worst at this, apparently.
remember those tissues from last chapter? KEEP THEM HANDY.
“It’s still all wrong.”
Soundwave looked at Bluenote sadly when the red mech made his proclamation. Blue was right; everything was still wrong and probably wouldn’t be right again for a very long time.
“I know.”
“What do we do to fix it? I’m afraid that Jazz is going to go next, if we can’t bring his spirits back up.” The other mech left his own low spirits unmentioned, but they both knew that Bluenote was as deeply depressed as Jazz.
“I don’t know,” Soundwave replied, frowning. “I wish I did.”
“Yeah.” Bluenote sat down at the table and wrapped his hands around his elbows in a gesture that made him look incredibly vulnerable. “Will you play something for me? I need to hear some music for a change.”
The blue mech nodded. He needed to hear some music too, and it seemed likely that it would help the others as well.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
After Symphony deactivated Woodwind had become even more physically affectionate, almost as if he had to constantly reassure himself of Soundwave’s presence. He even started creeping up onto Soundwave’s chest during recharge, head resting over the larger mech’s spark. Soundwave understood how much Wind needed this comfort and did his best to provide it.
“I just miss him so much,” the silver mech whispered. “He was always there, always part of our lives. He loved us both so much and we loved him and I don’t know how to keep going without him.”
“We will manage,” Soundwave rested a hand on the smaller mech’s head and rubbed his thumb gently along Wind’s cheek plate.
“But how? Jazz and I can barely leave the berth in the morning and we’re both doing poorly at work. I even heard Flashfire talking about transferring me out of the messenger corps last cycle. I know I’m doing badly, but I can’t make myself care enough to do more.”
The blue mech held his friend more tightly. “Grief and anger pass. We will get through this, because we are together.”
“But I miss him so much that it hurts, and it won’t stop hurting. I just want it to stop hurting, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“It will,” Soundwave promised.
“When?”
“Soon,” the blue mech lied. Then he began humming, hoping to soothe Woodwind into recharge.
Woodwind stopped questioning, and clung more tightly to the larger mech instead.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Fueling times became more strained without Symphony’s calm guidance to keep them together. Woodwind and Jazz were deeply depressed, Bluenote was angry and Stockpile was rarely home enough for any of them to know how he was doing. Soundwave wasn’t sure he was doing any better, but he was functional and capable of working and he did what he could to try and bring them back up.
He wasn’t sure it would ever work, but he kept trying. He couldn’t bear to lose more of his family.
It was when he began clearing away Symphony’s belongings, something none of them had the spark to do for almost two deca-cycles, that he found something that could help.
In a neat stack on the composer’s work table, were five datapads, all of them blinking to indicate they had important messages to be conveyed. The first lit up when he touched the screen, addressing the pad to Stockpile. Quickly flipping through the stack he found pads for Jazz, Woodwind and Bluenote. And himself.
Symphony’s elegant script filled the page, tightly compacted as if he old mech had needed to fit as much as possible into a single screen of text.
Soundwave,
I hope that, before you receive this, I will have found the courage to tell you in person how much I love you and how proud of you I am. You were the creation I never had, the big brother Jazz always needed but didn’t get until it was almost too late and a balm to my weary spark. You soothe this whole family with your quiet, steady ways and your calm strength. I know that you came through unimaginable horrors to gain that strength, but it has gone a far distance for helping my own creations.
You are a strong, wonderful young mech with a bright future--assuming the current world leaves any of us a future. You will do anything you set yourself to achieve, because you have the strength and courage for it. You will change the world, I have little doubt.
I am happy and honored to have been able to call you family these meta-cycles since we met. I hope and pray that I brought you some of that same happiness during these hard times.
The others will lean on you heavily, but don’t let their burdens keep you from sharing your own with them. You need them as much as they need you. Bluenote, especially, will need to know that he’s still worth something right now and helping you cope will give him a purpose.
Whatever you do, don’t lose your music. That will sustain you through all the hard times, even if the world is burning around you. There will be times, in fact, that it is the only thing that keeps you going. Your music can also be the balm others need for their own weary sparks, as it helped soothe me over these last few cycles. This will be both a blessing and a curse, but don’t hide from it the way I did when Requiem left for the plant.
My fondest wish for you is that you build your own family, and that your creations love you as brightly and thoroughly as mine. Don’t be afraid to embrace the creations of another if they need you and don’t be afraid to shower all your love on the people who matter most.
Shine brightly, my creation. I love you.
Symphony
Soundwave’s hands trembled slightly with emotion when he finished reading, but for the first time in cycles the emotion wasn’t grief or despair.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Bluenote was sitting at their table playing his digital flute when Soundwave and Woodwind came out of their room for their morning fuel. Neither of them could remember the last time the red mech had played his flute--it had to be around the time Requiem deactivated--but Woodwind smiled when he heard it.
They retrieved their fuel from the storage cabinet and sat down to listen. Woodwind was still wearing that small smile and Soundwave found himself echoing it, despite the fact that Blue’s song was slow and melancholy. The red mech seemed to be enjoying it as well, based on the less slumped posture in his back and shoulders.
“That was lovely,” Wind said when the piece was finished. “I’ve missed hearing you play.”
“I’ve missed playing,” Bluenote said. He took a drink of his energon, then returned his fingers to the flute. “I didn’t realize how much until I read Symphony’s letter.”
“I’m glad Soundwave found those.” Woodwind reached out and gave Soundwave’s hand. “We all needed that.”
“We did,” Blue agreed. “I just wish he’d been able to say it all in person.”
“We all wish that,” Jazz said, joining them at the table. “Just like we all wish he was still here. But Symphony said we had to keep going and that we would be okay as long as we’re together. And he’s right. I’ve been… stupid about it, and I’m sorry.”
“We’ve all be a little stupid about it,” Woodwind assured the black and white mech. “But now we move on together, like Symphony wanted.”
“And we make music,” Bluenote added. “Because that’s really the best way to remember him.”
“Just what he would have wanted, too,” Jazz told them.
“Don’t lose the music,” Soundwave said softly, knowing that it was as true for all of them as it had been for him.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Flashfire wants me to train for the security team.”
They all looked at Stockpile in shock as the older mech dropped into his favorite chair. Woodwind set his stringbox aside and moved to his creator’s side worriedly. Bluenote and Soundwave set aside their instruments as well, and Jazz laid his stylus on the table with an audible thunk.
“What? Why does he want you on the security team?”
Stockpile reached an arm out to his creation tiredly, and folded Wind into an embrace. “The terrorists have been absorbed by the Decepticons. Fire’s afraid they’ll start moving on the refineries again, now that they aren’t squabbling over territory.”
Jazz frowned deeply. “When did that happen?”
“Last cycle, apparently.”
“Why didn’t our contacts tell us?” Bluenote gave jazz a dark look. “That’s the sort of thing we should have known already, so we could be prepared.”
“I know that, Blue.” Jazz picked his stylus back up and chewed the end absently, oblivious to the looks the rest of the family was giving them. “Maybe Quake doesn’t know yet. It’s possible that it was being kept under wraps until the army was back from Nyon.”
“Jazz.” Stockpile sat up and pinned the black and white mech with a stern look. “I think you better explain what the two of you are talking about. Now.”
Soundwave nodded in agreement. Bluenote looked down at the table, either angry or embarrassed. Jazz shrugged one shoulder, resigned to their secret being out.
“I’ve been running messages for the Elite Guard since a bit before your old apartments burned down.” The black and white gave them a half-smile. “It put energon on the table, and then it helped keep us a step ahead of whatever badness was coming. Quake was my first contact, and best friend in the guard. Blue joined up right after we moved in above the tavern.”
“Were you ever going to tell us?” The gold mech looked angry.
“What would you have done?” Bluenote replied. “You would have told us to stop, which we couldn’t do without either starving our whole family or endangering a lot of lives in the army. It was better if you didn’t know, because then we didn’t have to choose to fuel our family or starve them.”
“It was good pay,” Jazz added. “Enough energon for all of us every day, for every trip. We bartered off some of it, for parts and maintenance and that upgrade to Symphony’s composition tablet, but most of it came home and kept us alive.”
Stockpile’s face remained dark, bordering on truly angry, but Woodwind looked thoughtful and Soundwave understood completely. Had he been given the same opportunity as Jazz and Bluenote, he would have also taken the chance to help his family survive.
“And if you had been deactivated?” Stockpile kept his anger in check, but only barely.
“Quake would have made sure you knew what had happened and that we were brought back.” Jazz’s tone grew more serious. “What we do is less dangerous than what all those soldiers out there do, anyway. We run between posts in government held territory, never anyplace where there are officials and never near any of the military bases. And you can’t say you would have done less, not if Symphony’s life was hanging in the balance. And it was, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“That isn’t fair,” Stockpile replied. “You know I would have done anything for him and I was doing the best I could.”
“Stop, both of you.” Soundwave stood up, drawing their attention and making both Jazz and Symphony look at him. “You both did what you could to keep us all safe and alive. Fighting over right or wrong is pointless, when neither of you was wrong. Symphony lived as long as he did because of what all of us did, and that should be enough.”
“It is enough,” Woodwind broke in from his position at Stockpile’s side. “We’re still here and functioning and we had Symphony for metacycles longer than we would have otherwise. That’s all that matters.”
“And if they’re deactivated while they’re out? Will it still be enough then?” The elder mech’s voice was worn down, almost defeated.
“Yes,” Woodwind replied. “Even then. Because they’re doing everything they can to take care of us.”
“I know you’re afraid to lose us,” Bluenote said, “But we’ll be okay. This is what we chose and we’re both very good at it.”
“Fine. I couldn’t stop you if I tried, anyway.” Stockpile rubbed a hand tiredly over his faceplates. “I’m going to recharge; my training starts in the morning. But we’ll discuss this more later. From now on, you two keep us all in the loop. No more surprises like this.”
“No more surprised,” Jazz agreed.
“We don’t want you to worry,” Blue added. “Not any more than you already do, anyway.”
Woodwind accompanied Stockpile when the older mech levered himself out of the chair and made his way to his recharge room. Jazz looked down at the table and Bluenote fidgeted with the keys of his flute.
“That wasn’t how I’d planned to tell you,” the black and white mech said softly.
Soundwave tilted his head curiously. “How had you planned?”
“Well, I had hoped it would be when we recruited you. Then you got that promotion and you weren’t the best candidate anymore. After that, I didn’t know how I was going to tell you.” Jazz laid his stylus on the table before he could chew it more. “I knew I was going to have to soon, though. Blue and I were going on runs that wouldn’t be able to be covered up with our usual refinery duties.”
“Does Flashfire know?”
“Fire’s one of our contacts,” Bluenote replied. “He’s really in charge of this refinery, but he also helps move intel for the Guard. The jobs here were real, but he also wanted us close so that we could be more useful to him. Quake has lots of runners, but they’re harder to recruit here.”
“I understand,” Soundwave told them. “Just be careful. I would be lost without you.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The Decepticons remained quiet for nearly a metacycle after taking over the terrorist groups inhabiting the mines. It seemed that perhaps that would be the end of the rebellion and some kind of peace talks could begin that would move their people forward without violence, and Zeta Prime even made motions to open such a dialogue.
And then a member of the Guard was caught attempting to assassinate the leader of the Decepticons. Megatron was enraged, and returned the assassin’s corpse to the Prime filled with high-heat explosives. Word among the Jazz and Bluenote’s contacts was that they were still finding pieces of Zeta imbedded in the walls and that there was some sort of power struggle involved in the succession of the next Prime.
The confusion of the power vacuum left the remaining ruling bodies ripe for attack, and attack the Decepticons did. Twenty highly ranked senators and their aides were deactivated before the Guard pulled together enough mechpower to beat them back to the mines.
Sentinel Prime emerged just after the Decepticons went back into hiding and addressed the issue aggressively and decisively.
He declared war on Megatron and his Decepticons.