Plays of Shadow

By: Amber Dawn

Chapter 14: Plans

Disclaimer: I don’t own Beast Wars. That honour belongs to Hasbro and its people.

Fleetshade turned off her comlink, curiosity and dread mixing within her. What could Blackarachnia need so badly that she had gone to the risk of contacting her? And how had the Predacon even accessed her comm. frequency? It had been so long since she’d used her built-in communicator that Fleetshade couldn’t believe it still worked! Then again, Blackarachnia was one of the sneakiest and skilled ‘bots Fleetshade had ever come across.

Over the last four days, Fleetshade had been cooped up inside the Maximal’s base. She could have ventured outside, but the few times she did, somebody always found an excuse to join her. The Maximals insisted that they trusted her, but she still felt like an oddball among them.

However, her confinement hadn’t been boring. She had gotten to know the Maximals one-on-one, and through them had learned all that had happened since they had crashed here – about the Beast Wars, the aliens, and the transwarp wave that would reach their home planet of Cybertron within two days. She’d spent a little while yesterday helping Rhinox track the wave’s progress, and Rattrap had taught her how to repair a damaged energy cell today. Fleetshade had known the rodent-bot hadn’t really needed help, but wanted to keep her out of the way while the others debated over the Transmutate. The poor thing, Fleetshade reflected. An innocent victim of circumstance – much like she herself had been.

Cheetor and Airazor were her almost constant companions. Cheetor had showed her how to play his computer games and the pair had spent many megacycles battling each other as various Maximals and Predacons. Airazor, meaning well, had taken Fleetshade on early scout patrol that morning to get her out of the base for a while. Fleetshade had to admit that Airazor had made an effort to fly level, but the deer-bot still hadn’t enjoyed her second flight any more than her first. Cheetor had volunteered a few times to take her for a ride, but Fleetshade had remembered Airazor’s warning and declined.

Silverbolt had also proven to be just what Fleetshade needed. While his outdated chivalrous manner and odd way of speaking were a joke among the Maximals, Fleetshade found it helped her to understand a little more about Maximal values. Silverbolt had been kind to her from the beginning, and the night after Dinobot’s death she had sat up with him on the graveyard watch shift. He’d told her about his brief time as a Predacon and the differences he noticed in the way the two factions behaved. Yet there had been something under his words, a sort of loophole he left open regarding his views on Predacon habits. Fleetshade hadn’t lived most of her life speaking with expression for nothing, and it hadn’t been hard to put Silverbolt’s unspoken words and thoughts together with Blackarachnia’s account from the other day. Silverbolt was obviously smitten with the Predacon femme. Fleetshade had said nothing, but had resolved to talk to Blackarachnia about this at the first given opportunity.

Which, as it turned out, was right now.

The deer-bot took a deep breath and wondered how best to exit the base. Blackarachnia had been lucky that Fleetshade had retired early to her newly-assigned private quarters tonight, or she’d be in big trouble. The Maximals regarded her with tenuous trust as it was; if she started getting transmissions from a Predacon she’d be out of there in a nanoklick. And, despite herself, Fleetshade was beginning to enjoy herself among the Maximals – even the males.

Fleetshade considered slipping out the back hatch alone, but that would get her nowhere. It was a long way down to the ground, and then how would she get back in? No, she’d have to get Airazor to accompany her outside for an ‘evening stroll’ or something. Yeah, that was it. Airazor was the only one here that knew about Blackarachnia, and the two of them together should be able to formulate a good excuse.

With this in mind, Fleetshade slipped out of her room and down the hall to Airazor’s. She knocked on the door and a muffled “Hold on” was heard from inside. Fleetshade waited a few nanos before the door slid open and Airazor peered out.

“Oh, hey Fleetshade,” the bird-bot said with a smile. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I was going to,” Fleetshade grumbled. “Can I come in?”

Airazor’s smile was immediately replaced by an inquisitive raised optic ridge. “Okay.”

Fleetshade stepped in and the door hissed closed behind her.

A few cycles later, the two femmes were outside. Fleetshade had reverted to beast mode and Airazor stood in robot mode a few meters away. They had told Silverbolt, who was on monitor duty for the night, that they needed some air and were going for a walk. Silverbolt, not one to sniff out ulterior motives, had let them out without a second thought.

Sentinel still wasn’t up for the night, but according to Fleetshade’s internal timer, which she had set to Earth time, it would activate automatically with half a megacycle. Airazor was going to stay where she was, acting as sentry, while Fleetshade snuck around the back to talk to Blackarachnia.

The deer meandered her way nonchalantly toward the back of the Axalon. Airazor had assured her that there were no hull cams on this side of the base, but Fleetshade was taking no chances at getting caught. Finally, she turned the corner and there was the tumble of rocks, the remnants of the cliff the Axalon had ploughed into upon crashing on Earth. She checked the back wall for portholes and security cameras and found none. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be seen or heard, she took a deep steadying breath and hoped for the best.

“B?” she whispered at the rocks.

“Over here.”

Fleetshade turned towards the direction of the voice and spotted a spider’s leg sticking out from behind a large boulder. The neutral female ducked behind the boulder and came face to face with Blackarachnia in robot mode.

“Hey B,” she greeted.

“Hi.”

“What’s the emergency?”

Blackarachnia looked both ways quickly and leaned in closer. “How much time do we have?”

“Half a meg before Sentinel activates for the night.”

Blackarachnia nodded and took a deep breath. She then launched into the story of the last few days, from her defeat in the valley to the present. Fleetshade was aware the moment Blackarachnia stopped telling her about her problem and when she was actually just letting out the tension from the last few days. The neutral female remained silent, letting the spider babble on about her fears, her anxiety about what would happen and her anger toward Megatron. And that she desperately needed Fleetshade to steal one of the Maximals’ graviton generators for her. When Blackarachnia finally finished, it was obvious she felt better.

“Did I just tell you all that?” the Predacon asked, astounded by what she would consider a weakness.

“Yes,” Fleetshade said. “You needed to.”

Blackarachnia thought about that for a moment.

“I think I’m going soft,” she stated miserably. “Just figures I’m a failure as a Predacon.”

“That’s not true, B, and you know it.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been one.”

“Well maybe you’re not the best of Predacons. Silverbolt-" Fleetshade watched for the slight change in Blackarachnia’s optics that would confirm her suspicions and found it almost immediately. She went on, “Silverbolt told me what he thinks about Predacon mannerisms as opposed to Maximal behavior, and I’m starting to understand the dividing line. So maybe you really do have morals and ethics and a sense of what’s right deep down. Maybe you do have the capacity to love. Being a bad Predacon, it seems, means being a good ‘bot overall. And I knew that about you from the start: why else do you think I trusted you?”

Blackarachnia just stared at Fleetshade, shocked.

“I thought it was because I was female,” she said.

Fleetshade scoffed. “What, you really think I’m that stupid? I may be naïve, but I’m not a child. Female or no, if you had been as good a Predacon as you thought you were I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

Blackarachnia still looked shocked, but now she also looked ashamed.

“I never thought you were stupid, Fleetshade.”

The deer-bot heaved a deep sigh and nodded. “I know. But you had to hear that. I-”

“Shhh,” Blackarachnia hushed suddenly. “Hold on a nano. I think I hear something.”

Fleetshade strained her audios and sure enough, there was a tiny scratching, whirring noise coming from behind the rock she was leaning against. She froze and caught Blackarachnia’s optics.

“Arachnoid,” the spider mouthed silently, confirming Fleetshade’s worst fears. Tarantulas was still spying on her, even here? Did he ever give up?

Panic started setting in, but Fleetshade held it down. Blackarachnia slowly and silently stood and brought out her blaster. As Fleetshade watched, the spider femme edged around the boulder and fired a single shot which was silenced by something hard. A few nanos later, Blackarachnia re-emerged carrying the sparking remnants of one of Tarantulas’ spy drones.

“Slag,” Fleetshade said, staring at the thing with distaste.

“You can say that again,” Blackarachnia murmured. “He heard all of that.”

Fleetshade let loose with a string of violent curses she had learned in the mines, leaving Blackarachnia sitting there with her mouth hanging open.

“Now where did you pick that-"

The Predacon cut herself off and was on her feet in an instant, gun held out in front of her. Fleetshade heard it too: the unmistakable roar of approaching wheels.

The neutral ‘bot had to fight down instinctual panic: not only had Tarantulas been spying on her, he was here now!

“How’d he get here so fast?” Fleetshade asked. “We were talking until less than a cycle ago!”

To the deer-bot’s surprise, Blackarachnia grinned. “I know,” she said. “Which means he didn’t hear any of what we said. I have a pretty good idea of where his hideout is, and in order to get here he would have to have left as soon as he saw I was here.”

Fleetshade nodded. “That’s good.”

“It won’t be if you just stand there,” the spider snapped as the roaring grew louder. “Get back inside, now!”

At that moment, Airazor came bolting around the corner of the base. She spotted the other two femmes and headed in their direction.

“Tarantu-“

“We know,” Blackarachnia snapped, gesturing to the sparking arachnoid. “We found one of his spies.”

“Hoo boy,” Airazor commented. “That ‘bot does not give up!”

“No, he doesn’t,” Blackarachnia snapped, “Now both of you get your skids inside. Now!”

Fleetshade took a quick check of her internal chronometer and gasped. “Thirty nanoklicks ‘til Sentinel activates!” she yelped. “B, you’re inside the perimeter!”

“Quick! Get outta here before you’re trapped!” Airazor whispered.

“Too late,” Fleetshade whimpered: the roar of wheels had silenced. “He’s here!”

“Ooh, excellent observation,” hissed a creeping voice as Tarantulas stepped around the corner in robot mode, blaster held out before him. All three femmes turned to look at him and he smirked.

“What do we have here?” the madbot sneered. “A little slumber party on Maximal property?

“They’ll have picked him up on the scanners,” Airazor mumbled.

“No, he’ll have a sig-masking device, like mine,” Blackarachnia whispered, her lips barely moving.

“Then we need him to get…about three feet closer,” Airazor estimated. Fleetshade nodded, her internals twisted up in knots. And not just from fear. She felt a moment of incredible relief, mixed with dread as she realized she had something very important to tell the girls later. Five nanoklicks now until Sentinel was operational. Four.

She started counting down under her breath.

“Three...”

“Bet you thought you were safe, didn’t you girl?” Tarantulas asked Fleetshade, leering menacingly at her and taking a step forward. Blackarachnia pointed her gun at him, but he ignored it.

“Two…”

“What do you want with me?” Fleetshade demanded, stalling for time. She just needed him to take one more step closer.

“One…”

Tarantulas took another haughty step towards the females and started to speak, but was cut off as Sentinel’s energy shield came whipping up from right below him, catching the spider in its field and shocking him for a few suspended moments. Then it hurled him a good ten meters away. He bounced painfully a few times, then slid to a rest. Within moments, he was up and running.

Immediately, the Axalon’s alarm bells started whooping. The base’s autoguns came online and started firing at Tarantulas’ retreating form. Fleetshade bolted out so that she could see the front of the base just as the lift came down occupied by Silverbolt, Optimus and a sleepy-looking Rattrap.

“Sentinel, stand down!” Optimus ordered.

“Acknowledged.”

The shield zipped down as quickly as it had come up and the autoguns retracted. Optimus looked wildly around and spotted the females standing there.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Fleetshade’s optics widened and she glanced behind her to where Blackarachnia was standing – and saw nobody. A furtive look around showed that Blackarachnia was gone, probably seizing the opportunity to get out while Sentinel was down. How did that girl move so quickly and quietly?

“I-" Fleetshade started to explain, but Optimus cut her off.

“Wait a moment. Rattrap, Silverbolt, go see if there are any others around.”

“Not likely, since ole web-brain’s been operatin’ solo for a while now,” Rattrap commented. A look from Optimus made the rodent-bot roll his eyes and pull out his gun, then he and Silverbolt split up and started to circle the base.

“Now, what happened?” Optimus asked again. Airazor and Fleetshade hurried over to where he stood, hands on hips, waiting for an explanation.

“Tarantulas – he came out of nowhere and attacked us!” Airazor blurted, sounding convincingly innocent. Fleetshade’s vocal circuits seemed to be blocked with leftover fear and panic – and perhaps something else, so she was glad the bird-bot was doing the talking.

“We found one of his drones watching us,” Airazor continued, gesturing to where she had last seen the corpse of the arachnoid. Only to find that it, too, had vanished.

“Where’d it go?” Airazor yelped, slanting a surreptitious look at Fleetshade behind Optimus’ back. They both knew where the drone had gone.

“It was right here!” the Maximal femme continued. “He must’ve grabbed it before Sentinel blasted him!”

Optimus frowned; Fleetshade wasn’t sure if he was buying the story, but she had to back it up.

“I saw him pick it up,” she confirmed.

“Uh huh,” Optimus grunted. “Did he say anything?”

“He was taunting me,” Fleetshade answered truthfully. “I think he’s still after me for something.”

“Did you see any other Predacons?”

“No,” Fleetshade lied with a twinge of guilt. It felt wrong to lie to Optimus after he and the other Maximals had been so kind to her. Perhaps if she told him about what Megatron was planning, he’d help Blackarachnia stop him. Or maybe he’d kick Fleetshade out of the Maximal base to get snapped up by Tarantulas and used as a science experiment. Either way, Fleetshade was simply a pawn. And she was not about to let herself get toyed with again!

“No, I didn’t,” she said again, almost fiercely. Airazor slanted a look at her, but Fleetshade ignored the bird-bot.

“Alright then,” Optimus sighed. “It must have been a solo attack, like Rattrap said. You should go inside now, both of you.”

“Right,” the females chorused. Together, they walked over to the lift and let it carry them up into the control room. When they reached the top, Airazor breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was close,” she whispered to Fleetshade. “Next time, we call her!”

Fleetshade shook her head, not in the mood to joke around. “She had something serious to tell me. Very serious. And there’s something else you should know. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but I need to talk to someone else right now.”

Airazor raised her optic ridges but nodded. “Okay. Whatever you say, little sister.”

The familial term boosted Fleetshade’s spirits enough for her to give Airazor’s hand a quick squeeze before the bird-bot drifted off down the hall to her quarters.

Reverting to robot mode, Fleetshade took a seat in front of a monitor and waited for Silverbolt to come back inside.

Rattrap yawned widely as he sidestepped around a large boulder. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately, kept awake by haunted thoughts of burning valleys and alien devices. Tonight had been the first time sleep had felt inclined to grace him, and now look what happened! Trust that crazy spider to come after Fleetshade on the one night Rattrap managed to get some shut-optic!

Cursing his rotten luck, the rat-bot cleared the boulder and found no Preds hiding behind it. He didn’t know why Optimus was being so uptight about searching: why would Tarantulas be working for Megatron again after being on his own for so long? More likely he’d been in the neighbourhood and decided to terrorize Fleetshade for the fun of it.

Just as he was about to head back inside and call it a night, something caught the Maximal spy’s optic. His instincts kicked in and he was immediately wide awake, scanning the area for movement.

There! Something was crawling among the rocks, trying to scale the cliff! Something with eight legs and a distinctive red pattern that glowed in the light of the rising moon.

“The widow,” Rattrap muttered. “Of course. Who else would be following Tarantulas around these days?”

Blackarachnia was too far away to be bothered chasing her, so Rattrap activated his comlink instead.

“Yo, Boss Monkey,” he reported. “Got somethin’ on the eastern edge of the perimeter. Looks like a black widow to me.”

“Hmm,” Optimus responded thoughtfully. “Well, those two spiders have a reputation for plotting together. We should probably run a quick check of the base to see if anything’s been stolen.”

“Right,” Rattrap grunted shortly, then turned off his comlink. He’d given his report; now he was going back to bed.

But as he trudged back to the lift, he couldn’t help but think something fishy was going on around here. When he’d been awoken by the alarms and rushed into the control room, Silverbolt had been blabbering something about Fleetshade and Airazor being outside when the attack happened. Now, as far as Rattrap knew, those two were hardly ever out after dark for no good reason other than ‘needing some fresh air’. Then it just so happens that two Preds show up?

Sure, Fleetshade said Tarantulas was after her. That could be a lie, but even if it wasn’t that didn’t explain the she-spider lurking around. Something didn’t add up here and as much as Rattrap had grown to trust and even like Fleetshade these last few days, how well did any of them really know her? Well, except Airazor. What part did she play in all this?

Rattrap passed Optimus on his way to the lift and the leader nodded to him. Rattrap grunted in return and pressed the button for the lift just as Silverbolt came around the other side of the Axalon. The fuzor said a few words to Optimus and shook his head once, then both joined Rattrap on the lift. As they ascended, Optimus pressed the security button and Sentinel snapped back to life around the base.

Rattrap wasn’t sure if he was surprised to see Fleetshade sitting there alone waiting for them, but he didn’t particularly care at the moment. She may be a spy, but at least she was a pretty one, he reflected wearily as he continued silently down the corridor to his living quarters.

Silverbolt bid Optimus goodnight, Rattrap having already slumped off, and turned to Fleetshade, who fixed him with an expectant gaze.

The fuzor lowered himself into a chair beside her, wondering what it was the deer femme wanted. The two of them had had a long conversation a few days ago while he had been up on watch, and ever since then she had spoken to him and the other Maximals a bit more freely.

But this was going to be no idle chat, Silverbolt predicted as he switched the monitors to grid view and pulled his chair over next to hers. She had a look in her optics that meant he was in for a serious talking-to. The same look Optimus got sometimes before battle when he gave one of his motivational speeches.

“Yes, milady?” he asked politely.

She smiled and relaxed somewhat. “I hope you don’t mind me sitting here awhile,” she said hopefully.

“Nonsense. It is always a pleasure to have company. Especially company as charming as yourself.”

Fleetshade’s mouth twitched a few times before she allowed herself to let out the laughter. It flowed like a rushing river, still free and innocent despite the many hardships she must have endured. Silverbolt liked her for it.

“Funny,” she said wryly once her laughter had died down. “A few days ago I’d have taken that comment as a threat. Now I can laugh at it.”

“You have come a long way in a short time,” Silverbolt agreed.

The small femme sighed and sobered completely. Her voice lowered and she leaned closer to him.

“Can you make sure we’re alone?” she whispered. “I don’t want anybody else to hear this.”

Silverbolt was somewhat shocked by this, but the look in her optics urged him to comply. He swung his chair to the monitors and, using the command Cheetor had taught him, changed the signature scanner to detect Maximal signatures rather than Predacon. He then zoomed in on a grid of the base, which showed five little red Maximal insignias. Four of them were in separate living quarters and one was in the command center.

Fleetshade nodded, satisfied, and Silverbolt changed the scanners back. He dawdled slightly, not knowing if he’d like what Fleetshade had to tell him and suspecting he had some idea what it would be.

When he could delay no longer, he swiveled his chair to face the neutral femme again.

“Blackarachnia was here tonight,” she told him point blank.

“I know,” he responded just as flatly. “Optimus told me. Rattrap spotted her escaping over the cliff.”

This surprised the girl, but she recovered fast.

“Silverbolt, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise me you’ll tell nobody else until you need to.”

Silverbolt had a bad feeling about where this was going, but he felt obliged to help this youngster in any way he could.

He caught himself suddenly: he could hardly call this femme a youngster, as he was in every probability not much her senior. But he still nodded; both a promise and an encouragement.

Fleetshade took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.”

She then launched into the story of what had happened to her the first day she’d crashed. Of course, the Maximals had had their suspicions that Blackarachnia had made contact with the girl, brought about by the fuzor himself. But to have her admit that Blackarachnia had helped her to acquire a beast mode and hide from the Predacons brought Silverbolt a queer sense of pride, though his face never moved from its neutral expression.

He had, of course, never mentioned his feelings for the Predacon femme aloud. But that didn’t stop him from admitting them to himself. He was determined that Blackarachnia retained at least part of her original Maximal programming, and what Fleetshade was telling him proved it.

But it didn’t stop at that one time. Fleetshade continued to recall the night she had come to live at the Maximal base, where Blackarachnia had been the one to suggest it in the first place! These actions were surely unbecoming of a Predacon, Silverbolt thought smugly.

He saw Fleetshade watching him very carefully and realized that she could see right through his carefully blank façade. She had mentioned something once about being able to judge people better than the average ‘bot, and it seemed she was right. Or was it really that obvious?

And suddenly he realized that he had nothing to hide; not from this female.

Finally, Fleetshade told him what Blackarachnia had told her tonight, about Megatron’s insane plan and the spider femme’s dilemma.

“She told me it’s almost finished, but she needs one more thing. A…graviton generator?” she stumbled over the name of the instrument. “Do you know what that is?”

Silverbolt nodded. He did indeed know what a graviton generator is, and he happened to know where the Maximals stored theirs. But that was she asking of him?

“She told me I had to get one from here,” Fleetshade continued. “The Predacons don’t have any.”

“Well, I doubt Optimus would just hand you a graviton generator for no apparent purpose,” Silverbolt told her, confused. Surely the girl knew that!

Fleetshade stared at him a moment, then smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead.

“I forgot you don’t draw normal conclusions,” she said, almost like an apology. “Let me rephrase this: she told me to steal a graviton generator for her.”

Understanding struck and so did its implications. Silverbolt may have been naïve, but he wasn’t stupid.

“If you were caught, Optimus would no longer trust you,” he said slowly, beginning to understand the dilemma.

“And Rattrap would no longer trust me. And Cheetor and Rhinox would no longer trust me. And I’d be kicked out and Tarantulas would get me.” She finished, all in a rush of breath.

“So what are you going to do?” the fuzor asked her.

“Well, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do anything. I thought you could….” Fleetshade trailed off and looked up at him from under her optic ridges.

“You want me to steal the generator for you,” Silverbolt finished for her. She nodded.

The Maximal sighed. “That would be risky.”

“She likes you.”

“I’d have to – what?” Silverbolt was completely thrown by this comment that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“I said she likes you. Blackarachnia, I mean. She won’t admit it, but she does. This is your chance to prove to her that you’re willing to go out of your way for her. I’ll watch your back. All you have to do is get a generator and take it to her on one of your patrol rounds.”

Silverbolt could feel himself getting cornered. He did want to prove to Blackarachnia that he could be of use to her, but the idea of stealing something from the Maximal base and giving it to her conflicted every moral he stood for.

Again, Fleetshade seemed to see right through him.

“Silverbolt, this is important. This isn’t just helping a Predacon, you know. This is helping a Predacon help the Maximals. If Megatron tries what she thinks he will-"

“I know,” Silverbolt cut her off. He didn’t need to hear any more. “I- will do it.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Though I will probably regret it. And I will probably be caught, and what if it does not work?”

“Silverbolt.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

The fuzor sighed. “Of course. Thank you. Any more of that and I would have changed my mind.”

Fleetshade smiled at him, a dazzling, genuine smile. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re a good person ‘Bolt, and I know you’ll do the right thing. Whether or not some people would consider it the right thing to do.”

Silverbolt nodded, sure that Fleetshade knew his ulterior motive as clearly as he did but glad that she didn’t voice it aloud.

“Well, I should head off to bed. Thanks Silverbolt. You won’t regret this.”

“I’m sure. Good night, milady,” the fuzor replied distractedly with a slight bow.

As Fleetshade moved off with a quick smile, Silverbolt couldn’t help but think she was wrong: he may indeed come to regret agreeing to this.