Beast Wars Symmetries:

Indoctrination

By: Michael

“Such utilitarianism,” observed Megatron, “These cloaking devices of yours work splendidly!”

“The holographic fields generated by these devices will bend the light around us, enabling us to look like the humans,” explained Tarantulas, “These devices were often child’s play on Cybertron. Here, they benefit us immensely.”

“Your expertise is indeed noteworthy,” remarked Megatron.

“But I can’t help but wonder if this you had something to do with our landing on Earth,” thought Megatron immediately after the praise.

“For all the benefits of these devices, there is one thing they cannot disguise,” cautioned Tarantulas, “Your height.”

The rest of the Predacons glanced nervously at Megatron who was well over nine feet tall. A human male that tall would not have blended in with the populace well.

“No matter,” sighed Megatron, “I will use is sparingly.”

“Hey! These devices work really well!” cried Scorponok as he turned on his device to appear as a human. Terrorsaur and Waspinator followed shortly.

“Well, my work for today is done,” chuckled Tarantulas, “I will take my leave now.”

“Dismissed,” agreed Megatron.

As soon as he was gone, Waspinator was the first to voice his suspicions.

“Waspinator not trust spider-bot,” he complained, “Something fishy about him!”

“I agree,” Terrorsaur added, “It’s been about a month since he’s shown himself to us and he goes off to do who-knows-what for long, irregular mega-cycles! The only time he’s around us is to process energon or create new gizmos!”

“I’ve taken that into consideration, yes,” said Megatron, “But for now, we still need his skills. Besides, I don’t see the three of you with diplomas from Cybertron’s best universities.”

It was true that on Cybertron, Waspinator, Scorponok, and Terrorsaur would not have been considered some of its more well-educated inhabitants.

Megatron’s remark, however, went completely over their heads.

“Hey, Megatron,” asked Scorponok, “How much more have you downloaded into your processors?”

“Oh, one more week and I shall be rich with the necessary information of this world,” smiled Megatron, “Speaking of which, I think I shall download that human’s internet library on Macroeconomics now.”

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It had been a normal day for Cheetor, a Transformer with boundless not common to most of his species.

Optimus had recommended almost a month ago that he explore the Earth in order to learn more about its people. That way, he could learn what the culture on this planet was like. So far, he was getting the hang of this place. He often found that he learned more when he was around Jack and Luna.

Of course, nobody knew him as a Transformer. He had close encounters with humans before but most of those cases were chalked up as some escaped circus animal. For the most part, he simply ran away before they could get a close look at him.

Optimus, in turn, took his time scouting the human world as well. Most of it was during the evening when he flew across the place.

While Rattrap and Rhinox were also exploring the world, they chose to spend most of their time underneath the lake aboard the Axalon. Outside of that, they explored the woods much more than they did human civilization.

For the time being, Cheetor was sprinting across the rooftops. It was part of his daily exercise regiment. He was the fastest thing on earth possibly but it would do no good for him to slack off.

Cheetor walked the building and looked down an alley where he heard a strange chanting.

“Praise to thee, almighty Primus…”

That stopped Cheetor on his tracks. Primus was a word that he had been more or less familiar with in his young life. He was the god of light who helped to vanquish Unicron eons ago, wasn’t he?

Curiously, Cheetor turned to the alley where the chanting was going on.

Cybertron had been a secular society for the most part, although there was a sizeable amount of ‘bots who professed to having beliefs in Primus.

He saw two men and a woman holding what appeared to be Cybertronian data-tracks.

Cheetor gasped. He quickly overcame his fear and transformed, leaping down to confront the people.

“Where did you get those?” he demanded nervously.

“We come from a remote island off the Pacific,” said the man with dark hair in the middle, “We are simply newcomers to this country.”

They did not appear to be afraid of Cheetor at all.

“Hmm, I’m not sure about that,” replied Cheetor suspiciously, “Why are you holding Cybertronian data-tracks in your hands?”

A dark-haired man stepped forward in surprise.

“You know what they are?” he asked.

“Yeah, and I also know you were chanting hymns to Primus,” said Cheetor. “He’s one of the gods of Cybertron.”

“How is it that you know about us?” asked the dark-haired man, “Unless you are a Cybertronian yourself…”

“Uh oh… me and my big mouth!” thought Cheetor, “I don’t want to blow my cover for good but these could be other Cybertronians marooned on Earth!”

He decided to play it cool.

“Yeah, so what if I am?” asked Cheetor with false confidence, “Why don’t you show me what a ‘Cybertronian’ is first?”

“You two stay here,” said the dark-haired man to his two companions. They complied.

“Come with me,” he beckoned Cheetor.

Cheetor hesitantly followed him through the door of an abandoned building.

“If he turns out to be a Predacon, I’m gonna be on guard and blast him with my quasar cannon,” thought Cheetor.

It was a large, abandoned warehouse that was empty for the most part. It was also there that the man turned to Cheetor and stopped.

He revealed a cloaking device by the side of his belt and pressed it, de-activating the human illusion and exposing the true robot beneath.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Cheetor, “So you come from Cybertron as well!”

Immediately, Cheetor turned off his cloaking device to reveal himself as well.

The mysterious Transformer then opened forth his chest plate to showcase a spark.

“You’re definitely one of us then!” cried Cheetor, “And I thought you were a Predacon!”

“This guy can’t be a Pred then,” thought Cheetor, “Reports only told us that four Predacons were aboard the Darkside and we’ve already seen what those four look like.”

The ‘bot put back his spark and turned on his hologram projector once more to take the shape of a human.

“Predacons?” asked the ‘man’ innocently, “Here on Earth?”

“Yeah, Optimus said to be on the look-out for any Preds,” said Cheetor, “Oh, what’s your name anyways?”

“Ah, yes,” came the reply, “We haven’t been introduced yet. My name is Terrance Lane, an Earth name given to me by my parents. But you can call me Terry.”

“But how is it there are other Cybertronians on an Earth?” asked Cheetor trying to make sense of the whole situation. “We just discovered it a few days ago!”

“I do believe we come from the same lineage of peoples,” replied Terry, “You see, about a century ago, my parents, part of a group of religious pilgrims from Cybertron, left our home world in order to find a religious colony where we could worship Primus and escape the mindless conflict between Maximals and Predacons. It appeared that we entered through a warp hole into uncharted galaxies we had never seen before. Little did we know that we would land here! I was born on Earth and have lived here ever since. I’ve never known my ancestral home of Cybertron.”

Cheetor did not know what to say. He was overjoyed that they had found kindred spirits on Earth without the label of ‘Predacon.’

“Well then, uh, Terry,” remarked Cheetor, “Could you show me your robot mode again? I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” apologized Terry profusely, “But for religious and ceremonial reasons, we may not reveal ourselves in public. Only when we’re in the safety of our havens, may we show our full splendor in order to worship Primus in all his glory during the monthly ceremony. I have broken the rules but I believe my family, along with Primus, will let it go once they hear of the good news I have for them!”

Cheetor smiled. “Wow, you have no idea how great it is to see other kindred spirits on this planet!”

“Likewise,” Terry smiled back, “Looks like this going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!”

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“Dad, I’m home!” announced Terry as he and Cheetor entered the two-story home.

“Hello, Terry,” said Mr. Lane, “Is this a new friend of yours?”

“He’s not just any friend,” explained Terry, “He’s one of us!”

Mr. Lane’s expression turned serious.

“You don’t mean…” he began.

“Show ‘em,” requested Terry. Cheetor turned off his cloaking device to reveal his true self. Mr. Lane gasped as Mrs. Lane and what seemed like Terry’s sister showed up.

“You are from Cybertron as well?” asked Mrs. Lane.

“You betcha!” exclaimed Cheetor.

Please forgive us for not showing our robot forms to you,” apologized Mr. Lane, “But we may only do so on special occasions which will be next week. Religious reasons, you see.”

“I’m totally fine with that,” said Cheetor, “It’s just great to know that there’s more like us out there! Umm, you guys are Maximals right?”

“Labels don’t matter anymore when you’re part of the Fellowship of Primus,” explained Mrs. Lane, “Maximal or Predacon, it doesn’t matter. You can be yourself in Primus’ ever-loving optics.”

“We’re having a small worship service tonight, though,” said Terry, “Wanna join us?”

“I’d be glad to!” replied Cheetor.

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In the car, Cheetor and Terry discussed a great deal of things from Six Lasers over Cybertron to how their lives on Earth have been ever since they landed. Soon, Cheetor found himself liking Terry more and more. He seemed like someone Cheetor could truly call a friend.

“Hey, Terry,” said Cheetor, “I’m not the only one here on Earth. There are other Maximals living with me. I’ll have to bring them over to meet you!”

“Sounds great,” replied Terry, “Oh, we’re here!”

Cheetor looked out the window to see a nice, suburban house situated nicely below some hills.

“So this is it, huh?” asked Cheetor.

“Yup,” beamed Terry, “We meet here almost once every week to study the Analects of Primus.”

The Lane family got off with Cheetor.

“So uh, what was your family originally named before they came to Earth?” asked Cheetor.

“My parents were only children back when they agreed to become part of the Fellowship’s religious pilgrimage,” explained Terry. “After we landed on Earth, they grew up together. I was their only son.”

Cheetor tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

“I was given a human name instead of a Cybertronian name,” said Terry, “I’ve grown up hiding amongst the humans my entire life. Sure they knew the nice young man who mowed people’s lawns but they never got to know the robot in disguise.”

“That’s a really interesting story,” commented Cheetor as he walked inside what appeared to be a church.

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“Only through our savior Primus, may we be saved!” announced the voice of what appeared to be a pastor.

There was a small group of 20-30 people inside. From what Cheetor could tell, they were a nice group of people.

These must be the original pilgrims from the Fellowship of Primus and their offspring  thought Cheetor. Indeed, young and old congregated together.

“We brought with us a new member,” Mr. Lane told the pastor, “He is one of us!”

“Oh?” asked the pastor curiously.

Terry nudged Cheetor.

“Come on and show ‘em!” he urged.

Cheetor reached to his belt and turned off his hologram projector erasing the illusion of a young, teenage human being. Everyone gasped.

“Y-you are a Cybertronian indeed!” exclaimed the priest, “But how did you arrive here?”

“Same way you guys did,” replied Cheetor, “I was part of a crew that crash-landed on this planet after chasing some Predacons… except for the whole ‘religious pilgrimage’ thing.”

“I… don’t know what to say,” said the priest still in awe, “But I am Veros, better known as ‘Pastor Vernon’ in human society. It is good to have you with us, however you arrived!”

Cheetor went around greeting everyone around him. All the older members, it seemed, had Cybertronian names while the younger members had Earth names. It made sense, after all, thought Cheetor.

Soon he found himself sitting next to Terry.

“Today we’re studying the Analects of Primus data-tracks: 24-49,” whispered Terry as Veros stepped up to the podium, “You’re going to love it here!”

And indeed Cheetor did for he truly felt that he belonged amongst these individuals.

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“Hey, Cheetor, why are you so late coming back?” asked Rattrap out of nosiness.

“I was out,” said Cheetor, “Where’s Optimus and Rhinox?”

“They’re out in the woods collecting fungal specimen,” replied Rattrap dismissively, “But the question is, where have you been? It’s 7:00 PM Earth’s time. You don’t usually come back so late, kiddo.”

“I hung out with some kindred spirits today, Rattrap,” elucidated Cheetor happily, “Cybertronians just like us!”

“Right,” snorted Rattrap, “I’m sure Megatron gave up on being a Predacon overlord to be a nice, sensitive guy.”

“They’re not the Predacons!” said Cheetor exasperatedly and told Rattrap the whole story.

After Cheetor was done, Rattrap looked even more incredulous.

“Ya mean to tell me that 100 years ago, some cult decided that Cybertron wasn’t enough and decided to move down to Earth?” asked the older Maximal, “A likely story!”

“They’re not a cult, Rattrap!” growled Cheetor angrily, “They’re friends, especially Terry! If you would just meet them, you’d see what they’re like.”

“No thanks,” replied Rattrap brushing off the invitation, “Stuff like that ain’t my thing.”

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” snapped Cheetor, “The Fellowship of Primus IS real and they’re especially not a cult! They’re a group that accepts me for who I am and sees the good in all beings!”

Rattrap still didn’t buy it. He only rolled his eyes. Cheetor, who caught it, was none too pleased.

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It had been over two weeks. Cheetor was showing up less and less at base and at his apartment. By now, Optimus Primal had become quite concerned.

“Rattrap, do you know where Cheetor’s been?” he asked, “It’s well over 7 PM and he’s still not back.”

“How should I know?” shrugged Rattrap, “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

“Rattrap, he’s only twenty-eight years of age,” sighed Optimus, “That’s hardly an age of self-sufficiency and independence.”

“Hey guys, what’s happening?” came a voice from down the hall.

“Cheetor, where have you been?” asked Optimus with a concerned voice.

“Oh, just out with some friends,” replied Cheetor, “I’d like you to meet them next week on Sunday, in fact. They’re really good people and I’m sure you’d like them.”

Optimus looked slightly more relieved.

“Well, that’s good,” he said and patted Cheetor on the shoulder, “It’s nice to see you’re making friends already.”

Rattrap did not look convinced, however.

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Charles Damien woke up to a cold draft in the room. He had not yet gotten the full rest he needed and his eyes could not fully register what was going on in the darkness.

“What was that?” he muttered.

A small scratching sound could be heard from all sides of the room.

Realizing that something was in his room, he quickly reached for the gun that sat inside his cupboard and aimed it into the darkness.

“Who are you?” he demanded, “And what do you want?”

“It simply amazes me what money can do for an individual,” came a voice from the shadows, “Power, respect, admiration and the loyalty of thousands who would obey you without question.”

“Your point being?” demanded Damien as he aimed the gun at the source of the voice.

“What if all that were to be taken away?” whispered the voice playfully, “All the things you’ve ever accomplished in life washed away in the sands of time…”

“That’s not going happen anytime soon!” growled Damien as he fired several shots at the intruder within his room.

Nine glowing green eyes emerged out of the darkness and a sinister laugh could be heard echoing across Damien’s rather large bedroom.

“That’s it, I’m summoning security!” thought Damien as he rushed towards the emergency button hidden behind a spot on the wall.

Unfortunately for him, death came in an instant.

A sickle-like claw swung out of the blackness of the room and sliced open his jugular.

Blood erupted like a fountain and soon, flowed like rivers of crimson.

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The next day came. Everything was going normally at base. Rhinox spent most of the day analyzing bacterial samples he found underneath the lake. Optimus was assisting him with the cleanup. And Cheetor went to see Jack and Luna after they had finished up with their entire day of classes.

Soon, Cheetor was back from his visit and on his way to the Fellowship of Primus but little did he suspect a pair of eyes watching him as he prepared to leave to meet up with the Fellowship once more.

He entered into the mini-submarine and left the Axalon to ascend to the top of the lake.

“Computer, check for all signs of human life within a 10 mile radius,” said Cheetor.

“None detected,” replied the computer.

“Sweet,”

Being an expert at stealth, Rattrap was easily able to avoid Cheetor’s sight as he followed the younger Maximal to his destination.

“Something about this really don’t seem right,” he thought, “First of all, that story’s too far-fetched to be true. Second, ‘da Order of Primus don’t register in our computers as a religious sect on Cybertron!”

He watched carefully from afar as Cheetor entered into a church-like building.

Rattrap glanced around at the place. It all seemed too fishy to be true. The chances of a religious colony landing on Earth from Cybertron seemed far too out there for him.

His eyes narrowed.

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“Today is the day that you receive your baptism, young one,” proclaimed Pastor Vernon as he anointed Cheetor’s head with fragrant oils, “After your cleansing, you may truly live again as a servant to the one and only Primus whose name we are not even worthy of speaking.”

Cheetor glanced at Terrance who waved back. Indeed, this was what Cheetor really wanted, to be with kindred spirits in order to serve a noble and just cause.

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“You’re going to love it,” said Terry, “Getting baptized through the cleansing powers of Primus is totally worth it. You’ll feel as if you were reborn!”

“Is it worth it?” asked Cheetor, “It’s a big commitment, you gotta admit. I mean, I believe that Primus is the creator of our race and all, but a lifetime of service… wow!”

“Didn’t you tell me yourself that you wanted to serve a greater cause?” asked Terry, “To have action, adventure, intrigues, and purpose in life? Well here’s your chance! With Primus and the Fellowship, you’ll never be alone again. You’ll have friends by your side and Primus who will watch over you for all eternity! Isn’t that what you want?”

“It… is,” confessed Cheetor, “Ever since I arrived on this planet, I’ve felt as if I didn’t belong. But with the Fellowship of Primus, I feel as if I’ve been given a purpose in life… to live life to my fullest potential.”

“That’s certainly the right attitude to have,” said Terry and patted Cheetor on the back, “Don’t worry about it at all, ‘cause I’m here for you and so is everyone else, including Primus!”

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“Before your baptism,” said Pastor Vernon, “We will reveal our true selves to you, Cheetor. As your spiritual family, it is time that we make you a part of the fold.”

Cheetor perked his head up eagerly. He wanted to see what the others looked like beneath their hologram projectors.

All the members of the Fellowship of Primus rose from their seats.

“I wonder what they look like,” thought Cheetor.

Several moments had passed and none of them transformed. Something was deathly wrong. Cheetor turned off his hologram projector to look at Pastor Vernon, otherwise known as Veros.

Suddenly, his whole world erupted in pain as he felt something inject itself into the side of his leg.

He whirled around to see Terry wielding a strange gun in his hands and looked down to see the dart that drilled into his leg. Soon, his body went numb.

“Cyber-venom!” he thought. Soon, it coursed through his body.

“It’s just a small dose,” said Terry, “Right now, your whole body should be numb. I don’t feel like putting you into stasis lock yet.”

“You… betrayed me…” moaned Cheetor, “Why?”

“Heh, heh, heh,” laughed Terry. With every chuckle, his voice seemed to grow more and more sinister. The look in his eyes changed as well with each ensuing giggle.

As for the rest of the Fellowship of Primus, their eyes glowed neon, green. They formed a circle to surround Cheetor.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!”

Terry’s laughter erupted into a chaotic mirth of evil and disorder.

The laughter stopped and Terry stood in front of Cheetor, glaring down at him with contempt and sadistic amusement.

“You… betrayed me!” yelled Cheetor and lunged at Terry, only to miss and collapse to the floor again due to his weakened state.

“And you have only yourself to blame,” laughed Terry, “For you were foolish enough to fall prey to the compliance of cult speak.”

Cheetor stared angrily at Terry, his eyes full of hurt and betrayal.

“Why…?” demanded the young Maximal, as his whole body gave way and sank to the floor.

“You gullible little fool,” sneered Terry, “And to think you fell so easily into my snare.”

Cheetor’s optics widened even further as he came realized that the people in room were not Transformers at all. Terry seemed to be able to read his mind.

“As you’ve most likely guessed, these hapless fools are not Cybertronians of any sort,” he explained, “Rather, they were nothing more than innocent church-goers who happened to fall prey to the micro-chips I implemented in their brains, controlling their every movement.”

How far the chips were implemented into their brains was anyone’s guess.

“Linking my mind to the chips, I can control their thoughts, expressions, actions and speech patterns,” Terry went on, “Because of their weak bodies, the humans could have easily died due to one wrong move. Fortunately, I was able to experiment on at least 20 to 30 of them successfully and take control of their bodies.”

“Who… what are you?” asked Cheetor who did not seem like he would be able to move about for quite some time.

“What am I?” chuckled Terry. He turned off his hologram projector to reveal a clawed being slightly less than Cheetor’s height. His head was not shaped as that of most Cybertronians since he had one single visor in place of what was supposed to have been his optics and two hook-like claws in place of his hands. His chitin was rough and purple, resembling that of an arachnid. Several other decorations lined the back of his body.

“I’ve had many names but you may refer to me as Tarantulas,” he said, “Not that it will really matter to you anymore.”

The robot now known as Tarantulas glared down at Cheetor in disgust.

“Think of me as your angel of mercy designed to bring salvation,” he said in a grotesque parody of what Terry’s voice had sounded like, “The time for judgment is now.”

Tarantulas tore away the voice-box away from his spider-like mouth and threw it against the wall, shattering it to pieces. He then took out his gun and aimed it at Cheetor’s chest-plate.

“Megatron suspected that you Maximals were hiding here like rats,” he muttered, “Looks like he was correct.”

“I dunno,” echoed a voice from down the hall, “Last time I checked, I was the only rat around here.”

A powerful burst of plasma shot forth and knocked the gun out of Tarantulas’ claws.

Tarantulas howled as another blast struck him in the chest-plate and knocked him to the floor. He clutched his chest in pain.

Cheetor’s eyes widened in hope as he saw Rattrap near the door with his gun pointed at Tarantulas. Tarantulas, however, was not through.

“Destroy him!” he ordered the 25 brainwashed humans in the room. Soon, they surrounded Rattrap.

“What now, vermin?” sneered Tarantulas, “Think you have what it takes to stop all of them without injuring them? After all, isn’t respect for all sentient life what you Maximals are about?”

Rattrap looked at his surroundings. There were 25 barely-armed organic beings in the room. Chances were, he could probably take them all out without injuring them… but what about Tarantulas?

He’s definitely gunna take the chance to attack me while I’m distracted thought Rattrap. Using ‘da humans against us was a smart move on his part.

Unfortunately, Rattrap did not have time to plan his next strategy as the humans tackled him and piled on top of him in order to hold him down.

“Heh,” scoffed Tarantulas, “Today’s my lucky day. I get to capture two Maximals in one fell swoop.

“Not yet you don’t!” came a voice from below the body pile.

With a sufficient surge of power, Rattrap muscled his way out and threw off the mind-wiped humans.

Immediately, however, the humans got up again.

“Their minds are wired so that they will fight to the death, no matter how much injuries they may sustain,” gloated Tarantulas.

“Then that leaves me once choice,” said Rattrap as he ran past the humans straight towards Tarantulas.

The purple Transformer used the spider-legs attached to his arms to open fire, however, forcing Rattrap to quickly roll out of the way behind several seats. Some of the bullets from the machinegun fire lodged themselves into Rattrap’s arm while most others struck the helpless humans, ripping through them and killing them instantly.

“You piece of slag!” shouted Rattrap as he witnessed the carnage, “How could ya doing something like this!”

“They’re nothing more than pathetic bags of flesh and organs,” cackled Tarantulas as he continued firing, “Worthless and disposable!”

Rattrap could see a large chandelier hanging above the area between him and the Predacon. He only needed his foe right under the large piece of glass and metal in order to do his thing.

Tarantulas was coming closer… and closer.

“Now!” thought Rattrap without hesitating as he took careful aim and fired.

His shot destroyed the chain that held the chandelier up. At the same time, because he had arisen, several of Tarantulas’ bullets struck him, throwing him back several inches.

“You lose, rodent!” laughed Tarantulas. A large shadow descended upon him, however. As soon as Tarantulas looked up, he screamed.

All 500 pounds of sharp glass, iron, and steel came crashing down on him, pinning him to the floor.

With a concerted effort, Rattrap managed to get up, despite his injuries. He glanced down at Tarantulas who was in a far worse condition than he was.

To his shock, he saw a limping Cheetor standing over the Predacon with his quasar cannon pointed directly to his head.

“Cheetor… what’re ya doing?” he asked, “We’ve won.”

“No! He has to pay!” cried Cheetor, “He tricked me, used me, and betrayed me! All the while I thought he was my friend!”

Tarantulas moaned from under the rubble. Mech fluid began flowing on the floors from his wounds.

“You wouldn’t dare…” he laughed weakly.

“Cheetor, don’t do this!” pleaded Rattrap, “It ain’t the Maximal way! Killin’ beings in cold blood ain’t how we do things!”

“That’s your opinion, vermin,” sneered Tarantulas, “I’ve seen… atrocities committed by both sides that would make any civilized being sick. The point is, you shouldn’t let some birthmark hold you back from doing something that you so desire… revenge in your case…”

Cheetor glared at Tarantulas and cocked his gun.

“Do it!” shouted Tarantulas. “Do it and reveal your true Maximal nature! Bwahahahaha!”

Cheetor could not take it anymore. He fired. Tarantulas’ screams filled the air.

Rattrap lowered his head. Soon, however, he raised it again as Tarantulas’ screams did not stop.

“The kid didn’t kill ‘im after all!” thought Rattrap. Indeed, Cheetor only blasted Tarantulas’ foot, which was sticking out from under the chandelier.

Cheetor looked down at Tarantulas in disgust.

“Ever since I came to this planet, all I’ve really wanted was to fit in and to find kindred spirits,” said Cheetor coldly, “Guess my situation with you taught me not to be so naïve from now on… Terry.”

“I’ll kill you…” muttered Tarantulas.

Rattrap put his hand on Cheetor’s arm. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go home.”

“I’ll kill you,” spoke Tarantulas more angrily.

Both Cheetor and Rattrap turned and walked away.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” shrieked Tarantulas in combined fury and agony.

Cheetor and Rattrap paid no more attention to Tarantulas.

“You Maximals may have won for now,” laughed Tarantulas, “But I’ll be back to haunt you sooner than you know it! I promise with every last carbon in my body that I’ll finish each and every one of you slowly and painfully, hahaha! You know nothing about me while I know everything about you! The clock is ticking and it’ll only be a matter of time…”

The maniacal ravings of Tarantulas continued even long after Cheetor and Rattrap had disappeared.

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“Hey, Rattrap, sorry about all this,” muttered Cheetor as they made their way back to base through the forests.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, kid,” said Rattrap, “I’m the one who should apologize for being the jerk earlier wit’ you.”

“But you were right about them being a cult,” replied Cheetor.

“You don’t need ‘ta blame yourself, Cheetor,” Rattrap spoke softly, “There’s no way you could’ve seen that it was a trap. Even I was surprised when it turned out to be a fifth Predacon.”

“Yeah, I really screwed it up,” said Cheetor, “I could’ve led you guys into a trap and it would’ve been all my fault…”

“But the important thing is that it didn’t occur,” said Rattrap firmly and stared Cheetor in the eyes, “It could’ve happened but it didn’t so you oughta at least be thankful for that!”

“I guess you’re right,” muttered Cheetor.

“What’s more important is that you still have friends,” continued Rattrap, “Me, Rhinox, and the big banana! We’re here for ya, Cheetor, and we’re yer’ friends! We’re like a family, kid, a family that’s only gonna grow even larger once we retrieve our friends in those stasis pods and kick Megatron’s butt all over this planet!”

What Rattrap said struck something deep inside of Cheetor.

“Rattrap,” he said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” replied Cheetor as he transformed to robot mode and enveloped Rattrap, who was still in beast mode, into a joint-crushing hug.

“Yeowch!” cried Rattrap, “Put me down, already, ya stinkin’ fleabag!”

Finally, Cheetor put down Rattrap as a mischievous smile crossed his face.

The younger Maximal held out the side of his arm to play a recording that he had just made.

“Me, Rhinox, and the big banana! We’re here for ya, Cheetor, and we’re yer’ friends! We’re like a family, kid…”

“Wait’ll Optimus hear this coming from you!” exclaimed Cheetor as he transformed to beast mode and ran off.

“Hey!” cried Rattrap, “You’d better not let him hear that, I’m warnin’ you! I’ll show you exactly why cheetahs face such high rates of extinction in the wild!”

And off into the lush sunset the two friends ran, not knowing of the further great adventures and destinies that awaited them in their stay on planet that they now called home.

The End.