Plays of Shadow

By: Amber Dawn

Chapter 15: Taking Action

Disclaimer: Beast Wars is Hasbro and Mainframe’s brain child, not mine.

“So you got him to take it?”

Fleetshade nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think he likes it, but I also think he knows how important this is.”

Airazor shrugged. “And it helps that he’d probably do anything where she’s involved.”

“I don’t like to think that. He has standards, but he also really wants to confirm what he already believes about her: that maybe she’s not all bad.”

“Now if only she’ll believe it.” Airazor mused. The two femmes were sitting in Airazor’s room on the morning after Fleetshade’s talk with Silverbolt. Airazor sat on her recharge bed, one leg dangling off the side and her arms draped around her knees in a graceful slump. Fleetshade sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the bird-bot’s nightstand.

There was a thoughtful silence, then Fleetshade smiled. “That’s an odd comment for a ‘bot who told me B was nothing but trouble, not even a week ago.”

“Been doing some thinking,” Airazor mumbled quietly. Fleetshade nodded slowly.

The mood around the Maximal base had been generally high this morning: the transwarp wave had reached Cybertronian space. Cybertron was bound to intercept it, and when they did a search party would be sent to take the Maximals home. They had all been overjoyed (with the possible exception of Silverbolt, but he had been won over easily), but under it all was the underlying fear of the inevitable: a last-ditch attack from Megatron.

The femmes and Silverbolt had a pretty good idea what Megatron’s tactic would be, but they hadn’t told anybody about Blackarachnia’s counter-plan, unsure if the other Maximals would approve. Especially because Blackarachnia was the one who had devised it.

Rattrap was on monitors, watching for any sign of Predacon activity. Silverbolt was out on ‘patrol duty’, actually taking the graviton generator to Blackarachnia. The rest of the Maximals had broken off into small groups or had gone off somewhere to be alone with their thoughts. The females were waiting anxiously for Silverbolt to get back and tell them how it went, and Fleetshade was filling Airazor in on what had happened the night before.

After a few cycles of comfortable silence, Fleetshade spoke up.

“There’s something else you should know about,” she said hesitantly, sounding as if she wasn’t sure she should say anything.

“What?” Airazor prompted, leaning forward.

Fleetshade shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I - last night, during the attack, I had this feeling. When I first saw Tarantulas, I felt like…like I did before. When I had my power. This weird surge. It didn’t hurt, it just…wanted to get out.”

“What?”

“It was like it wanted to escape. It happened last time when I was really afraid, or in pain. But I was able to control it then, saving it all for my escape. There was a bit left when I got here, and even then I was so panicky that I was…looser with using it than I would have been normally.”

“It takes control when you’re scared?”

“Something like that,” Fleetshade replied with a nod. “I don’t know. But it seems like it’s back all of a sudden.”

“How? What could have caused it?”

“I was wondering that myself. The only thing I can think of is that, when I was working with Rattrap on the base’s power cells yesterday, he told me they weren’t producing as much energy as they should have been, as if something was draining them. I didn’t pay any attention to it at the time, but do you think I could be absorbing the energon’s energy without knowing it?”

Airazor thought for a moment. This could make a lot of difference if Fleetshade was discovered by the Predacons. Before, they could at least be assured that Megatron wouldn’t want her if she had no firepower. But now, who knew?

“It’s possible,” she replied. “Are you sure?”

“No.”

“Well, let’s go see!”

“What?” Fleetshade looked up at Airazor as if the bird-bot had her logic circuits crossed.

“There’s only one way to know for sure. C’mon, let’s go outside so you don’t destroy anything valuable.”

“But….” Fleetshade protested. “What if he’s watching?”

“You mean Tarantulas? Didn’t you say he never knew it was gone? It would hardly be news to him and besides, Rattrap ran a thorough check this morning for his drones and came up empty. Either Ole Legs has gotten better at hiding his little pals, or he decided to give up after last night. C’mon.” Airazor stood up and yanked Fleetshade to her feet.

“I don’t know-“

“How will you know if you don’t try?” Airazor asked, pulling Fleetshade out her door and down the hall to the command center. Rattrap was still there, playing poker against the computer and, from the looks of it, losing miserably.

“Hey, where you gals goin’?” the rat-bot asked, glad for an excuse to take a break from his dismal game.

“Outside,” Airazor answered. “Target practice.”

Before the transmetal rat could reply, Airazor dragged Fleetshade over to the lift and pressed the ‘down’ button. She saw Rattrap turn back to his game with a headshake and heard him mutter, “Females – I’ll never understand ‘em!” before the lift descended and he disappeared from view.

“Okay,” the Maximal femme said brightly when they stepped out onto the dirt of the plateau. “There! Those rocks over there!”

She pointed to a small pile of rocks near the edge of the cliff.

“What about them?” Fleetshade asked dully, obviously not wanting to do this. But of course she had no choice in the matter.

“Aim at them,” the Maximal replied. Wasn’t it obvious?

“I can’t do that,” Fleetshade told her. “I can’t aim for a specific object! I’m lucky if I can get a specific direction!”

“Oh,” Airazor said, her energetic bubble deflating. ‘So this was what Fleetshade was trying to tell me,’ she thought. Once again, Airazor felt ashamed for not listening to the deer-bot.

“Still,” Airazor continued with less enthusiasm. “You have to know for sure if it’s back, right? So give it a shot. Try to get it in the general direction of the falls.”

“Okay,” Fleetshade said doubtfully, turning away from the base toward the sound of pounding water. “Here goes nothing.”

At first, nothing happened. Airazor was disappointed, and started to reassure Fleetshade that it was okay when suddenly the neutral femme started to glow. Just faintly at first, but steadily more until the girl was surrounded by an azure hue that Airazor recognized as energon radiation.

The bird-bot thought she’d been prepared for this, but was shocked to discover that she wasn’t. That amount of radiation would have crippled or killed a much larger ‘bot, but Fleetshade just stood there calmly, a look of intense concentration on her small, delicate face. Despite herself, Airazor felt herself getting the chills. This deadly power looked so alien on her tiny friend.

“It’s weird,” Fleetshade said, her voice sounding strangely deeper and far away. “It was a lot harder to control before. I feel like I can manipulate it a lot easier now.”

“Probably because you’re so relaxed,” Airazor said before she knew she was thinking it. “Before there wasn’t a time when you weren’t scared or hurt, and you said that’s when it’s harder to control.”

“Yeah….” Fleetshade muttered. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Fire off some and see what happens,” Airazor urged, unaware of the optics that were fixed on the pair of them.

“Okay,” Fleetshade replied. The girl raised her right arm and spread her long fingers wide, then shut her optics and screwed up her face in concentration. The glow shifted, gathering into a brighter and brighter glow around Fleetshade’s hand. Just when it reached a blinding hue, it released. A huge beam of whitish-blue energy shot from the girl’s outspread fingers out over the waterfall, causing her body to rock backwards slightly from the backlash. She stumbled and fell on her backside. The glow faded, and it was just plain old Fleetshade again.

Airazor rushed over and put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Fleetshade! Are you okay?”

Fleetshade looked up at her and the neutral female’s face split into a huge grin.

“I did, it, Airazor!” she laughed. “I did it! It’s back!”

Airazor laughed too, as much from relief that Fleetshade was alright than anything. Seeing the girl aglow with enough radiation to kill a ‘bot was a terrifying sight.

But Fleetshade was fine. Better than fine, Airazor thought with a smile, looking down at the girl’s proud expression. She had her confidence back now that she had a means of defense.

“Looks more impressive when it ain’t aimed at me,” said a voice from right behind them. Both femmes spun around to see Rattrap a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest and an unsure grin on his face. This, Airazor thought, was the closest Rattrap ever got to looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sure,” Fleetshade responded in a mock-angry tone, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “Spying on us, Ratface?”

“Hardly, Bambi,” Rattrap shot back, using the nickname he had started calling the young femme. “I was watchin’ da monitors and I saw ya startin’ ta glow and thought I was losin’ my marbles. Den I remembered what Bird Lady said about target practice, so I came out here to see what was up.”

“You? Watching the monitors? You must’ve been losing pretty badly to that computer,” Airazor remarked. Fleetshade snorted.

“Heh,” Rattrap replied. “So ya got your – thing – back?”

“Yeah,” Fleetshade nodded. “Yeah, I did. That’s where all the base’s extra energy’s been going.”

Airazor smiled and her optics drifted off to where the beam had disappeared to. And saw a form approaching. As it drew closer, she recognized it.

“Hey,” she cried, interrupting Fleetshade and Rattrap’s good-natured bickering. “Here comes Silverbolt!”

Fleetshade gasped and followed Airazor’s gaze.

“So it is,” Rattrap smirked. “He was supposed to be back over a megacycle ago. Wonder where he’s been?”

With that, the rat-bot whirled on his heel and strode back up to the lift. “You gals comin’?”

Airazor and Fleetshade exchanged a quick glance before following Rattrap to the lift.

Tarantulas waited patiently while the Darkside’s defenses shut down.

“Thank you,” he sneered into his comlink, giving the security camera a dirty look.

“This had better be good, Tarantulas, yessss,” Megatron’s voice growled back.

Without bothering to reply, Tarantulas reverted to vehicle mode and made his way over the lava pits to the entrance of the Predacon base. The hatch opened for him and he drove inside, transforming as soon as he reached the main room. Megatron was there, waiting for him.

“You should consider yourself lucky I didn’t have you exterminated,” the purple tyrant said by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you, too, Megatron,” Tarantulas said icily. “But I’m not here to exchange pleasantries. I have an offer for you.”

“By offer, you mean last ditch attempt to win back my favor and save your own hide when the Maximals from Cybertron arrive?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, in that case, I’m all audios.”

Tarantulas chucked, but remained on topic. “Do you recall the spacecraft that crashed here a few weeks ago?”

Megatron waved a dismissive hand. “Of course I remember it. Get to the point, arachnid, before my patience runs out, yesss.”

“Fine. The pilot of that spacecraft is still alive.”

Megatron took a moment to absorb this, then leaned forward in his seat. Any other ‘bot would have thought this signified interest, but Tarantulas knew better.

“You want proof,” he told the tyrant. Megatron laughed.

“You know me far too well, Tarantulas.”

“Here.”

The spider pulled a small disc out of his subspace compartment and held it out. “This should be all the proof you need.”

Megatron raised his optic ridges. “My, aren’t we well-prepared? You must be very desperate, yesss.”

“Yes, very,” Tarantulas spat impatiently. “Just take the disc!”

“Inferno!” Megatron bellowed. The ant-bot came crawling out of the shadows behind the tyrant’s seat and grabbed the disc from Tarantulas with a small snarl. He then handed it to Megatron, who slipped it into a slit in his computer console. The screen immediately crackled to life, showing a black-and-white view of the field in Sector Gamma. The sound had been turned off, but the picture was clear: three females. Two that Megatron would recognize – and one he wouldn’t.

“That one.” Megatron pointed to Fleetshade. “And Blackarachnia. But what is that Maximal female doing there?”

Tarantulas sneered. “The three of them are obviously in cahoots. I found them all together last night as well, at the Maximal base. That’s where the newcomer is staying.”

“Hmmm...” Megatron mused. “This is interesting.”

Tarantulas smiled to himself . His plan was going well so far. He’d baited the hook. Now he just had to add the sinker.

“You may remember that this particular female has a – unique power,” the spider wheedled.

“Of course, of course,” Megatron replied. “And you’re telling me this is true?”

“Absolutely.”

Megatron sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Tarantulas could barely hold back his gleeful laughter: he had the tyrant now!

“And what do you propose I do, Tarantulas?”

“If I were you, I’d launch a full scale attack on the Maximal base while sending a covert operative to infiltrate it and take the girl hostage. She would be an effective tool against the Maximals, as well as providing us with a powerful weapon when Cybertron arrives.”

Megatron sat back with a satisfied smile.

“It will need some work, but I’m sure we can work something out, yesss. If you can be believed - which I’m not sure you can - this female is far too good a prize to leave in the hands of the Maximals.”

“Precisely what I thought,” Tarantulas replied, biting back a triumphant cackle. He’d done it!

Fleetshade was having a pretty good day so far. She had discovered she had her powers back, then Silverbolt had returned. The moment she’d got him alone he’d reported his mission to be a complete success. And from the goofy grin that wouldn’t leave the bird-dog’s face, it seemed he’d been successful at a lot more than delivering the graviton generator.

Fleetshade was floating on a virtual cloud of happiness. That was, until the Predacons ruined it by launching a full-scale attack on the Maximal base. Never having been witness to one, Fleetshade had to admit the magnitude of the force behind the attack was frightening. One would never guess that such a rag-tag assembly as the Predacons would be able to combine their firepower into such a formidable assault.

She stood at the back of the command center, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, while the rest of the room buzzed with activity and the base shook continuously.

“Shields at twenty percent and falling!” Silverbolt announced from where he sat in front of a monitor.

“We’re losing weapons systems power!”

“Backup grid online, but it won’t last!”

Fleetshade listened to the grim reports but did nothing. She refused to take part in the battle; it wasn’t her fight.

“Any sign of Cybertron ships?” Optimus asked.

“Nada! Ain’t a blip on the boards anywhere!” Rattrap responded. Optimus sighed.

“Then stand ready, team. We may have to-"

Suddenly, Optimus was cut off by the base rocking violently. What sounded like explosions reached the Maximals and Fleetshade’s audios.

“What’s going on?” Airazor asked from where she stood against the far wall, overseeing the goings-on much like Fleetshade was doing.

“I don’t know,” Optimus replied. “It seems like there’s something out there.”

“Nuh-uh!” Rattrap interjected, gesturing wildly at the monitors. “There’s nothin’ out there! Zilch!”

As the rat-bot pointed, all optics watched as an unknown entity fired huge laser beams at the Predacon ranks, causing them to scatter. They saw Megatron order a retreat and the Preds beat a hasty departure across the plateau, leaving the Maximal command center silent but buzzing with tension and anticipation.

“What da heck just happened?” Rattrap finally asked.

“We had…help,” Optimus replied.

*                  *                  *

Fleetshade walked slowly back to her quarters, not wanting to stay in the control room. The rest of the Maximals had all left with Ravage to capture Megatron, and she had refused to join in the fight. Since the Predacons had retreated and were most likely fortifying their base against the oncoming siege, there was no reason to leave anyone behind to guard the Maximal base. So Fleetshade had been left on her own.

She slumped off down the corridor, lost in thought. What was she going to do now? The Maximals were going back to Cybertron once they captured Megatron, but Fleetshade wouldn’t go with them. Cybertron was not her home, nor did she want it to be. She wanted to find her family, to be with them again. Perhaps she could ask Ravage if he could drop her off at a transport station on some planet en route to Cybertron. Surely it couldn’t be too much bother….

She opened the door to her room, thinking dismally that she would miss Earth a lot. She stepped inside and her spark leapt into her throat.

There was a ‘bot sitting on her bed. A very large ‘bot.

“Hello, little one,” he crooned. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Fleetshade felt fear and panic well up inside her, and with it came the energy that drove away the fear, at least in part. She stepped into the room and snarled.

“What is it with you males?” she cried, aware that she was glowing a furious, pulsating shade of blue. “You just waltz into my bedroom and expect to be serviced? Sorry, I don’t work that way. Get out!”

The male stayed right where he was, a sick – she guessed it was supposed to be a smile – blooming across his mandibled mouth.

“Ah, you are presumptuous. What makes you think I am here for that? Your body holds no appeal to me, female. But the fear that you’re feeling…ah, that I desire.”

Caught off-guard, Fleetshade felt said fear clutching at her throat, rendering her speechless.

“Nothing to say now, eh? Well, perhaps you’ll be more up to talking once I take you to Megatron and he lets me-"

“No!”

In that moment of blind panic, Fleetshade feels the power building inside her, waiting to be released. The fear released its hold on her vocal circuits and with a shriek of rage, she let loose a pulse of intense, focused energy in the large ‘bot’s direction. The force knocked her back slightly, and as she took a step backwards she felt something stinging in the back of her neck. The big Predacon screamed and his entire frame was wracked with energon radiation. He crashed to the floor of her room, unconscious.

Fleetshade blinked a few times. Her optics seemed to have gone fuzzy. Thinking the energy had somehow momentarily damaged her optic circuits, she shook her head slightly. But the blurriness grew worse, and suddenly she wasn’t sure which way was up. She felt herself stumble, her limbs like dead weights. What was going on?

Then she realized: the prick she had felt in her neck. This feeling was familiar; reminiscent of her life on Marajo. Somebody had shot her with some sort of drug or poison! Fleetshade spun around, and the move knocked her completely off balance. She fell into the waiting arms of a big green and purple blur that she recognized with a trill of fear. She tried to raise the energy to blast him, but it wouldn’t come. Tarantulas tisked at her.

“None of that now. My cybervenom has rendered you quite unable to attack me, so save your strength. I dare say you’ll need it when Megatron gets his hands on you. But before he does….”

Fleetshade stopped listening to Tarantulas as her vision blackened and her hearing cut out. She felt herself being hoisted up, and then nothing as the venom’s influence swallowed her up.