Reality Check, Part Two
By: Beastbot

(Author's Note: Remember, folks, in this fanfic series, Blackarachnia has NOT had her Predacon shell programming removed, even though she is a Transmetal 2.)

“All right, now what’s going on here?” Optimus asked, closing the door to his office. “I’m sure you all have had dreams before, so why is this one any different?”

Silverbolt, Blackarachnia, Airazor, Tigerhawk, Prowl, Grimlock, and Ironhide had all come to Optimus just a few moments earlier, all relating to him the same problem- they had all had an odd dream.

“Well, Optimus,” Airazor began, “For some reason this dream seemed… real.”

“What was it about?” Optimus questioned.

“Although I can’t speak for the others, mine was about….me, or at least, a ‘bot that looked a lot like me, minus the beast mode parts... I was on Cybertron, and I had signed aboard a mission on the exploration ship Axalon… most of my dream had to do with me quitting my old job as a mine worker on the sub-continent of Mechania and moving to Cybertropolis…”

“Hmmm… sounds to me like you’re remembering your past, for some reason,” Optimus responded.

“My thoughts exactly, Optimus, but why would these memories surface just now? Why wouldn’t I have known all this from the beginning?”

“Frankly, Airazor, I haven’t the slightest clue. Hopefully, when we get Rhinox back online and he gets adjusted to his new body, he’ll be able to figure it out. He seems to know more about the transformer psyche than all of the rest of us put together. Last I heard from Rattrap, it’ll only be about half a solar cycle or so before the new body is ready.”

“Optimus,” Silverbolt began, “I just want to add that I had a similar dream… I was on Cybertron too, and the only other recognizable ‘bot in my dream was a transformer- my mate- named Blacklight… who, it seemed, bore an uncanny resemblance to Blackarachnia…”

“I had the same dream too, Optimus…” Blackarachnia added, “….only the other way around.”

“So, you two knew each other before the Axalon left Cybertron?” Optimus asked, surprised. “Hmm… that explains why you two seemed to have an inexplicable attraction to each other as soon as you met for the first time. But this still doesn’t make any sense… Tigerhawk, did you have a similar dream to these?”

Tigerhawk silently nodded.

“What about you four?” Optimus questioned, pointing to Ironhide, Prowl, Grimlock, and Gryphtron. “Did you have similar dreams as well?”

While Gryphtron nodded an affirmative, the other three shook their heads.

“What happened in dream frightened Grimlock, Optimus.”

“Yeah, Ah almost woke up screamin’.”

“Same here.”

“Really?” Optimus asked, intrigued. “What happened in your dreams?”

“Well,” Prowl began, “In my sleep, I viewed myself being put together. It was absolutely disgusting, Optimus! Every part, at the beginning at least, was strewn out. I witnessed every microbe of my shell being fused together, the mech fluid being added in, and a spark being created. What was most disturbing, though, was the fact that those blasted aliens were doing it all. If this dream was indeed part of my past, then it would seem that I was created by those horrible aliens.”

“Mah dream was of the same thing,” Ironhide added.

“Grimlock had same dream, too- Grimlock’s insides were all over the place.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Optimus stated. “If this was indeed your past, then why did you all say that you have the same memories as your namesakes?”

“From what I can gather,” Prowl said, “The aliens were talking about something doing with replicating old units. Considering that the aliens sometimes refer to us as “units”, this would imply that I am merely a clone of sorts, as are my brethren, Grimlock and Ironhide. It is most disheartening.”

“Hmmm… but why would the aliens try to replicate transformers, when they hate us so much in the first place?” Optimus asked.

“That part I’m not so certain about,” Prowl answered. “Perhaps we’ll find out the answer sometime in the future.”

“Perhaps…” Optimus responded. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’d say we all need to get back to bed.”

“…If we can,” Airazor added. “I doubt I’m going to be able to sleep after all the events that have unfolded in the last few hours.”

Megatron had a headache.

He had been up all night, reluctantly listening to the dreams of half of his crew. For some reason, their dreams had all seemed to be merely recurring memories of their pasts:

Octopod had been yammering on about the fact that he used to be a barkeeper before he signed on the Axalon, tired of a mundane lifestyle.

Manticron had told Megatron that he used to be a professional wrestler- no surprise there.

Buzzclaw had used to be an accountant before he signed on the Axalon. My, how fitting these backstories were….

Sandstorm had had an odd jumble of memories, considering that he was the fusion of two different transformers. One part had been his past as Scorponok, helping Megatron escape from jail and whatnot. The other part had been Quickstrike’s past- he was a gun salesman before he signed on the Axalon. Megatron was glad he never went into THAT gun shop….

Scavenger was the hardest to calm down. From what Megatron could gather, Scavenger’s past had been as a security guard before he joined the Axalon. Scavenger was so frightened about his dream that he was almost hysterical. It had nothing to do with the colony, and Scavenger’s logic circuits still wouldn’t accept the fact that he was a transformer, not an ant. Scavenger begged the Royalty to punish him for thinking about things other than the colony, but of course, Megatron would have none of it, and assured Scavenger that “all was forgiven”.

Sometimes a tyrant’s life could be so rough.

Megatron closed his optics, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before it was time to awaken again.

As soon as Megatron settled in, his alarm clock went off.

It was soon smashed into several pieces.

An alarm went off just as Taran was about to put the cover back on Cheetor’s head.

“GAH!” Taran startled, dropping the cover on the floor. “D'oh, great.”

Taran reluctantly walked over to a nearby console, activating the monitor.

“What is it, Computer!? I was almost done installing the-“

“Unit Blackarachnia’s Predacon core programming is in jeopardy. Recent memories awakened by the recent exposure to a Vexoran Class IV Mind Probe have started to counteract it. Shall I activate the security program?”

“What!? Oh… I don’t care about that anymore, I was ordered to installed that for safe measures when I was under Megatron’s command! Whoever wins the Beast Wars is no longer my concern… I have what I want, hehehe.”

“Shall I activate the security program?” the computer responded emotionlessly.

“Whatever! Just leave me alone!”

“Acknowledged.”

Taran stabbed the “off” button on the monitor and stomped back to Cheetor’s prone form, lying on an examination table. Cheetor’s body parts were strewn everywhere, the head the only recognizable part anymore. Even the head was vastly different then from a few weeks earlier- it was more elongated, more streamlined. It showed almost none of the familiar features Cheetor had had before. But such was the effect of Ultrametal technology.

Taran sighed and set back to work, fusing chips, etching, and programming. Ah, it was nice to be able to use all four arms again….

Blackarachnia heard familiar footsteps coming up from behind her.

“Is that you, Silverbolt?” Blackarachnia asked absentmindedly, still focused on repairing a broken monitor.

“Yes, my love,” Silverbolt responded. “What is it you are doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Blackarachnia replied, standing up and turning around to face Silverbolt. “I’m repairing a monitor, birdbrain. Although, there is one other thing that needs repairing….maybe you could help me out on this one…”

“Oh?” asked Silverbolt, intrigued. “What do you need my help on?”

“On… THIS!” Suddenly, Blackarachnia pulled out a dagger from her subspace and stabbed Silverbolt in the head. Before the shocked Silverbolt could react, Blackarachnia pushed the dagger down, slicing Silverbolt’s body nearly in two. Silverbolt didn’t even have a chance to utter a word before he went offline.

Blackarachnia heard footsteps, and instinctively shoved the dagger back into her subspace.

Optimus Primal entered, and gasped when he saw the prone form of Silverbolt lying on the floor, a puddle of mech fluid forming around the eaglebot.

“Blackarachnia! You’re needed on the bridge!”

Blackarachnia blinked, unbelieving that Optimus hadn’t just scolded her, at the very least.

“Huh?”

“Blackarachnia! You’re needed on the bridge!”

Blackarachnia awoke with a start, sitting up in her bed. Realizing it was all just a dream, she activated her comlink.

“Uh…uh… be right there, Optimus…”

“Good. Rattrap’s almost done with the makeshift form for Rhinox. We need your programming skills. See you soon.”

Blackarachnia turned off her comlink, still a bit shaken up from her nightmare.

“Ugh… the second time tonight? What is my defect?”

“What do you need, Chief?” Blackarachnia asked as she entered the bridge.

“Blackarachnia, I need you to program this console to accept commands from Rhinox’s makeshift body,” Optimus answered, motioning to the console he mentioned. “Considering that this shell isn’t going to be of much use combat-wise, we need to allow him to plug into the computer systems here, so that he can operate the defense systems himself, if need be.”

“On it,” Blackarachnia replied. As she walked over to a nearby console, she couldn’t help noticing the…odd….form….. in the middle of the room.

It was definitely a simple form, but, given the resources the Maximals had on hand, Blackarachnia admitted she couldn’t have done any better. The structure had small tank treads on the bottom- a slow but reliable source of transportation. Connecting the two tank treads was the main body trunk- merely a hollow metal rectangle filled with wires and a place for a Transformer’s spark. Blackarachnia was sure the rectangle would be closed up later, but as for right now, Rattrap and Prowl were busy tinkering with the insides of the soon-to-be-Rhinox. On top of the rectangle was a medium-sized monitor screen, connected to some protected wires in the back that linked it to the main body. This was supposed to be a head of some sort, obviously. Attached to the sides of the rectangle were this body’s equivalent of arms- two of Rhinox’s old chainguns, attached to opposite sides of the rectangle via some simple arms, made of metal bars and hydraulic cylinders. These were obviously given to Rhinox as some sort of defense, although it wouldn’t be as effective as Rhinox’s old body, given the obviously poor endurance. Rhinox’s color scheme was rather monotonous- just gray, with a couple of rust spots on the outside plates of the center rectangle.

Blackarachnia shrugged and sat down at the console, beginning her work. She suddenly felt a great deal of pity for Rhinox. The sudden swell of emotion made her forget for a while that she felt a bit… different… today….

“Spark transfer complete,” the bridge computer bleeped out monotonously. Soon, the makeshift shell sprang to life.

Little mechanical whirrs started to sound from within Rhinox’s body, indicating that the spark was in place, and the body was up and running. The monitor-head blipped on. Amid cheers, Rhinox’s old face appeared on the screen, surrounded by a black background. As soon as Rhinox started to talk, the image on the screen moved accordingly, giving the impression that the image on screen was making the sounds, not the speaker hooked up behind the monitor.

“…Ohhh… What the? What happened?” Rhinox asked, examining his new ragtag body via an optic sensor implanted in the monitor.

“H-hey dere, Rhinox!” Rattrap said nervously, stepping back from Rhinox a bit to give the former rhino-bot some room. “Uh… what do you remember last?”

“Well,” Rhinox said, still a bit shaken, “I remember getting hit in the back by a blast from Inferno, and then everything went dark…”

“Dat’s what I thought,” Rattrap replied. “To make a long story short, old buddy, we found out dat Prometheus was an alien. He took over your old body and held your spark captive inside a flesh sac. Eventually, we got your spark out of his body safe and sound, but Prometheus destroyed your old body. He was killed a couple weeks later himself. So, we decided to make a new makeshift body for ya to house your spark. I know it’s not much, Rhinox, but it’s only until we get back to Cybertron- presuming we ever win the Beast Wars, of course….”

“Well,” Rhinox said, examining his body again, “It’ll take some getting used to, and I’m afraid I won’t be much use in battle, but… thanks. Thanks for giving me my life back again.”

“’Ey, don’t mention it,” Rattrap said, shrugging the compliment off. “It was Airazor’s idea. But I allowed your new shell to hook up to the defense system so you can-”

“Airazor’s… alive?” Rhinox interrupted, bewildered, as Airazor stepped up behind Rattrap.

“It’s a long story,” said Optimus, coming up in a form Rhinox didn’t recognize. “A lot has changed since your old shell was infested… some new friends have joined the team, some old ones have… left….and many of us have changed appearances. But regardless, Rhinox, we’re all glad you’re back.”

As if to reinforce Optimus Primal’s statement, the rest of the Maximals all gathered around Rhinox, engaged in several conversations with the makeshift transformer at once.

The non-stop conversations went on for a couple minutes before Optimus realized something.

“Hey, where’s Blackarachnia?”

Silverbolt stopped talking with Rhinox as soon as he heard that sentence. “Primus, you’re right… Blackarachnia’s not here!”

“Eh, don’t get your feathers ruffled, Silverbolt,” Rattrap replied. “I’m sure she’s somewhere in the base. You know she doesn’t like this emotional ‘slop’.”

Ignoring Rattrap, Silverbolt ran off into the other rooms of the base, calling Blackarachnia’s name.

“If dat ain’t over-concerned, I don’t know what is,” Rattrap commented.

A few minutes later, Silverbolt came back into the room, panting.

“Blackarachnia…isn’t here, Optimus…. Where could she have gone?”

Optimus furrowed his brows at this, almost as concerned as Silverbolt was.

“Rattrap,” the Maximal commander said, “Do a quick scan of the base and the surrounding area. See if you can find Blackarachnia anywhere in the near vicinity.”

“On it, Boss Mon…. er, Bat,” Rattrap said, stepping over to the nearest console and activating the scanners. “Eh, Optimus… what do ya make of this?”

Optimus walked up to the console, looking it over for a few moments.

“This doesn’t make any sense…” Optimus responded.

“What is it?” Silverbolt said, stepping into the conversation.

“We’ve found Blackarachnia’s energy signature, alright,” Optimus answered, “But the scanners are reading her as a Predacon, not a Maximal. Hmm…. Silverbolt, take Ironhide with you and go out and find Blackarachnia-- she’s just about a mile or so from the base, so you should be able to spot her pretty easily. It appears she’s heading in the direction of Predacon territory, for some reason…. I want you to find out what’s going on.”

“Right away, Optimus,” Silverbolt said, saluting. The former fuzor quickly grabbed Ironhide and they both ran out, transforming into beast mode as they left the base.

“Ironhide, I see her,” Silverbolt said, spotting a multi-legged form retreating towards Predacon ground. “She’s at coordinates 56, 7, 20.”

“All right,” Ironhide replied, via the comlink. “Be there in a few nahno-clicks.”

Silverbolt transformed to robot mode and set himself down, right in front of the Transmetal 2 spider. Blackarachnia was running so fast, she almost bumped into the birdbot.

“Blackarachnia, what are you doing?” Silverbolt questioned. “Rhinox is back online, and….”

“Out of my WAY!” Blackarachnia screeched, swiping her claws at Silverbolt menacingly.

“Whoa-oh, easy thair, spider-bot,” Ironhide said, coming up near the two other Maximals and transforming to robot mode.

“Blackarachnia, what’s going on?” Silverbolt asked, stepping back from Blackarachnia a bit. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I SAID….” Blackarachnia said, pausing in the middle of her sentence. Her expression softened a bit, although she was obviously struggling with some emotions internally. “Sil-Silverbolt… I’m sorry, I can’t con-TROL…. Predacon programming is kicking itself into high….er…. gear… I need…. GET OUT OF MY WAY!”

Blackarachnia suddenly jumped onto Silverbolt, tearing into his internals, cackling maniacally. Ironhide body slammed Blackarachnia, knocking her off Silverbolt. Before the Transmetal 2 spider could react, Ironhide laid a solid blow to Blackarachnia’s head, knocking her into stasis lock.

“Ah’m sorry Ah had to do that, spider-bot, but it was fur your own good,” Ironhide said, shaking his head sadly. “Ah’d better take you and bird-bot there back to base and figger out what’s wrong with you.”

Ironhide’s massive bulk picked up Blackarachnia and Silverbolt’s prone forms easily, hefting them both over his shoulders and carrying them back to base.

“Apparently, Blackarachnia’s Predacon core programming has been altered by some outside source, strengthening it a bit,” Rhinox said. He was plugged into the base’s medical equipment, thanks to his new form, and was scanning Blackarachnia’s unconscious form as he talked. “I’ve installed a dampener chip, which should help negate the effects a bit, but it still can’t cancel out her strengthened programming completely. I COULD try to delete the Predacon programming altogether, but, since it’s currently running at such a high power level, she’d only have a twenty percent chance of surviving the process with her memory still intact.”

“I can’t take that big of a risk,” Optimus said, sighing. “I’m pretty sure that Silverbolt wouldn’t want you to go through that process, either- but I can’t confirm that, since he’ll be in the CR chamber for at least a few more megacycles. He took some pretty heavy damage from Blackarachnia.”

“I know,” Rhinox replied, unplugging himself from the medical equipment, apparently done scanning Blackarachnia. “Silverbolt was lucky- if Blackarachnia had dug into his chest just a few centimeters to the left, she would have destroyed his spark. But back to Blackarachnia- what do you want to do with her, Optimus?”

“Well,” Optimus answered, “I suppose we’ll just have to hope she can handle her Predacon ‘urges’ with that dampener chip in. Besides, I know a certain Maximal who could help her control her core programming, anyway…”

Blackarachnia awoke to the sound of the door to her room sliding open. Her optics flashed on, and she gazed at the intruder.

It was none other than Dinobot, in beast mode.

“Are you awake, female?” the raptor asked, obviously hoping that she wasn’t.

“Uh… yeah,” Blackarachnia replied, sitting up in her bed, “But I feel like I was hit by a ton of bricks.”

“A ton of bricks, hmm?” Dinobot questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Only one ‘bot here fits that description. Ironhide.”

Blackarachnia chuckled a bit. “Apparently. What did you come here for, anyway?”

“I was ordered by Optimus to come here to help you control your Predacon core programming.”

“You?” Blackarachnia asked incredulously. Her core programming still tickled the back of her mind, but she had it under control- for now, anyway. “Since when are you Mr. Loyal? Besides, I don’t need your help, anyway. Now that Rhinox put that dampener chip in me, I have everything under control.”

“Fool,” Dinobot replied. Blackarachnia’s whisper in the back of her mind to attack the velociraptor got a bit louder. “You may have your core programming under control for the time being, but that may not prove to be the case in future situations. I, however, can help, you, female. I have had to deal with my Predacon core programming many times in the past, and the first rule is that you CANNOT beat it. You have to adapt to it, female.”

“I’ll do that,” Blackarachnia said. “And by the way, the name’s Blackarachnia. NOT ‘female’.”

“I shall remember that.” Dinobot responded, a bit amused. “Now, report to the battle simulation room in one megacycle. There I will give you your first training session, fe... I mean, Blackarachnia.”

Blackarachnia merely smirked in reply.