4.Feb.06
A/N: Not mine, no profit. Don't send me any money, feedback is much more welcome :)
Part Four
By: Syntia13
The
air smelled of heavy metals, energon, and mech fluid. The alley was dark, like
most of the city was these days.
He approached slowly the laying figure and pressed his weapon to the Predacon
symbol on the other bot's chest. Optics full of fear looked up at him.
"Speeder? Please... it wasn't me, you know me all my life, you know I
wouldn't..." He started pulling the trigger, fury and hatred swirling
inside him.
"I swear it wasn't me, please don't..."
He backed away slowly. It wasn't the pleading that stopped him, but doubt. He
didn't know if it was this Predacon who ambushed the others, not for sure.
"Get out of my sight," he whispered hoarsely.
And just a few hours later there was this Predacon's laughter echoing in another
dark alley, and a body twitching in a puddle of energon and mech fluids.
He run to his friend's side and fell to his knees just in time to see red optics
dimming to eternal darkness. And the laughter still echoed between the walls.
He
woke up, staring at the ceiling. These dreams weren't exactly nightmares. They
only brought anger, not fear. He heard the door next to his opening, stood up
abruptly and walked out to the corridor. The tall transformer was heading to the
control room.
He leaned against the wall, waiting for anger to subside to the level of his
usual...distrustfulness. His bright red optics locked on the other's back
darkened to near purple.
I'm watching you.
___________________________________________________________________________
Rust
tilted his head and regarded piece of twisted metal with disbelief. "It
can't be this, can it?" Behind his back Terrorsaur snorted. "I
wouldn't be surprised. It's just like Tarantulas to send us on a wild scrap
chase." He flopped to the air, caught the hot wind under his wings and shot
up almost effortlessly. He comlink beeped.
**Nice trick, flyer.**
If he didn't know better, he might think there was a note of admiration in the
wolf's voice. He looked around, and screeched. "This scrap is scattered all
over the place! It will take us solar-cycles to sort through all this!"
**So? You're not missing Megs, are you? We have energon, no one will shoot us
and no one will yell at us. What more do you want?**
"To get rid of that slaggin' sand grinding my gears, and to get out of this
sun and to be away from your pestering!"
** *laugh* You do realize you will have to land sooner or later, and I'll
still be here, don't you?**
The Pterodactyl muttered something unrepeatable. Eight solars with easily bored
and nosy wolf, who tended to turn aggressive when not kept amused had totally
wrecked his nerves.
**Oy, bird! Now that we have something to do, I will let you stay silent, so you
have one of three, and after the sunset, it will be two of three. Ain't that
nice?**
"Have
I mentioned how much I hate you?"
**No,
today you didn't.**
"I
hate you." **Aw, poor negatively-minded dactyl. All right, tell me
where the nearest most promising heap of scrap is, and let's get it started.**
___________________________________________________________________________
The
rhino roaming tropical plains is nothing special. The rhino chatting with an
abyssinian cat curled on its back is rather unusual. Unless, of course, you know
that the animals in question are in fact, robots in disguise. Then the chatting
makes sense.
Actually, they weren't exactly chatting, it was more like a scholarly dispute.
Kittar had aroused the subject of possibility of using chemicals extracted from
native plant life to enhance healing process of their beast modes, and since it
didn't occur to anyone earlier, she and Rhinox ended up in a jungle, scanning
and gathering samples. Now they were going back to Axalon, discussing some of
more promising finds. The reason why the cat was getting a lift was that she'd
declared she's tired, and Rhinox, having the van as an alter mode prior to
landing on this planet, was used to carrying things.
Kittar opened her eyes and scowled when they entered the shadow of Axalon (who
stole the sun?), but brightened up immediately, hopped off the rhino's back and
darted forward cheerfully. Rhinox saw what was coming. "Kittar,
don't--!"
*THUMP* "I'm back! Missed me?"
"NO! Get offa me!" Rattrap scrambled to his feet, dusting off his
front. "I didn't miss ya, I don't miss ya, an I'll never miss ya so quit
askin'!"
Rhinox maximized for the sole purpose of putting hands on his hips and staring
down at her sternly. "Kittar, why do you keep doing that?"
She
grinned at him and purred, very pleased with herself.
" 'Rrrrrrrrrrr' is not and answer, and you know that."
She purred even louder.
"Ah, don't waste yer time, Big Green, can't ya see dis thing is dumb as a
plank? HEY!"
The exclamation was caused by a set of claws swishing dangerously close to his
face. Rattrap jumped back, grumbled under his breath and walked away. He hadn't
yet developed a strategy to deal with someone who went from content purring to
furious slashing with no stage in between. Even Dinobot was easier to handle,
and he was a Pred, slaggit! Where was he anyway? Rattrap set off in a search of
a person he could annoy.
"I must ask you to stop pestering Rattrap, Kittar." The cat glanced at
Optimus from her place on a round table. She didn't like the demand, so she
ignored it, hoping it will go away. It did, if only because Optimus had more to
say. He fitted her in their duty schedule and was reading it to her, explaining
patrol routs and other details, when he noticed that her tail was twitching.
"Something wrong?" "Yes." And without further
explanation, she jumped down open lift shaft and ran away.
***
To
say that Rattrap wasn't too happy would be a big understatement. "Find
Kittar an try ta brin' her back, he says. An how should I do dat, huh? An why
me? Was it my idea to brin' a cat onboard? I don't think so. She can run an
never come back for all I care, I'd be happy if she did dat..." He
continued muttering until he found his least favorite teammate. She was pacing
back and forth in ravines not far from Axalon. Rattrap looked at her frowning.
"Well? What's wrong wit' ya dis time?"
She responded never stopping her pacing. "I hate it. I know it's stupid, I
know it's unreasonable, I can't help it, I hate it."
"Hate what?"
"Taking orders." She finally sat down and looked at him. "I know
I should, but it goes against every single instinct I have."
Rattrap put fists on his hips. "Well, ya better get used to it, sista,
cause we 'ave a war here, even if it’s a miniature one, an I don' wanna get
scrapped just cause of yer whims, ya know?"
"I know!" She snorted in irritation, and stared at him for a while.
"All right, I know what I'll do. Come on." And she trotted back to
base.
Rattrap blinked. "Well, ah, dat was easy..."
**Yo,
Fearless Leader, da fur-ball is goin' back.**
"Well, that was quick! How did you do this?"
**Don't ask me, I donno nothin' of insanity.**
"Hi Optimus!" Kittar jumped on a table and sat there, with tail
wrapped neatly around her. "So I know what to do. I will take every order
when there will be an emergency, like Pred attack or some very important
operation, but other times I shall do as I please." And she beamed at him.
Optimus closed his eyes for a nano and shook his head slightly.
Why oh why have I ever answered that emergency alert?
"Of course. That is your right, Kittar. Though it would be much easier
if--"
beep
** *snarl* Where are you cat? You were to go on patrol with me.** Dinobot's
impatient voice came through the comlink.
"Dinobot, there was--" Optimus started explaining, but Kittar's voice
interrupted him. "Coming!" and she disappeared in the lift.
Primal
exchanged glances with Rhinox. "Did I miss something?" Rhinox spread
his arms. "Maybe she feels like going on patrol."
___________________________________________________________________________
"Anything
useful?"
"Can't you lift that thing higher?"
Rust hissed impatiently. The broken container was huge and heavy, and he barely
kept it as it was. "Move your skid-plate, slaggit, even I would fit under
there!"
"Then maybe you should crawl under there," Terrorsaur muttered.
He peeked in the gloom and to his displeasure, he noticed seemingly untouched
long-range comm driver. That meant he had to go into a small, dark, small,
unsafe, small space.
"Move it, my hands are slipping!"
Gritting his teeth Terror rolled under the sharp edge, grabbed his target,
thrust it outside and rolled back. That was the plan, anyway. Only the driver
hit the container's wall, and Rust's hold on it slipped completely. With a thud
of metal on sand, darkness closed around the red bot.
No, no, let me out, where's the light, I can't breath, where're the walls, let
me out, it's crushing me, I can't breath...
He
woke up to the blue sky and steady slapping on his face. He grunted and waved a
hand to stop whoever was doing the slapping.
"Well, finally! Next time warn me before you decide to take a nap!"
Rust's face appeared in his field of vision. "Feeling like getting up
yet?" He shook his head, and Rust scowled. "Fine, so lie here and
scorch, you good for nothing flyer. Just don't think you can trick me into doing
all the dirty work myself."
He walked to the platform and started rearranging pieces of equipment they'd
salvaged so far. He glanced at the red motionless form lying on the sand. So...
afraid of small spaces. What was it called? Closedphobia? Something like that.
He could have told me, slaggit. I wouldn't tell him to go under there if I
knew. Stupid flyer.
___________________________________________________________________________
"I'm
hungry. Let's go kill something."
"We have an assignment, cat. *snarl* Keep your mind on the task."
Kittar pouted. Her main reason for coming with him was to see how good a hunter
he was. But - and she brightened at the thought - she could also check his
stalking abilities. And since they were supposed to find out if the Predacons
came back to the area, he couldn't refuse that.
Dinobot was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had to hand it to her,
she knew how to stalk. If he didn't know where she was, he probably wouldn't
spot her. And he certainly wouldn't hear her. But she was practically
defenseless. She'd replaced her LSD with one of Rattrap's blasters, but her aim
was less than poor. 'I'm a short range person' she claimed with irritation, when
Rattrap fell of laughing during target practice. Then she challenged vermin for
a dagger-throwing duel, and after a mega-cycle Optimus called it a draw and took
the daggers away from them. None of them was too pleased... Dinobot smirked. He
glanced in her direction again and it took him a while to perceive a slight
movement and a speck of red fur. Not at home with weapons, very good at
stalking. Little use in battles, good for reconnaissance missions.
Hmmm.
His colors were to his advantage, as well as smooth movements. But he was too
loud. She'd heard his breath and rustle of leaves more than once. And his smell
was too strong, he'd had to keep downwind to stay undetected. So, all in all...
I'm
better at this.
She smiled.
___________________________________________________________________________
A
gas dissolved in a liquid well enough, specially programmed nanites, according
to his equipment, were doing their job, and the only problem was a side effect
revealed in one of the tests. The virus was disrupting energy flow on subwarp
level, and that meant it was potentially lethal. That was not what he was aiming
at!
"Any
progress, Scorponok?"
He jumped. "Not yet, Megatron, I doing, am doing, did..." he tangled
himself in tenses, for the umpteenth time cursing his protector. The crazy old
bot had lived in a separated fleshlings' community, and was so obsessed with
their culture, that he never allowed to use other than their language in the
house. After a few decades Scorponok's internal computer labeled unused data
with his native language as unimportant and deleted it. As a result, he was a
rarity: A Cybertronian for whom Cybertronish was a foreign language. He'd never
caught a full grasp of grammar, and it was getting worse whenever he was
nervous. Like now.
"It not work as I want." He managed. Megatron narrowed his eyes.
"And how does it work?" His voice was calm, and Scorponok
calmed down as well. "I think it affect behavior as I wanted. But a problem
is with it, it may affect spark as well. Fatally maybe. I'm not sure."
Megatron put his fingers together. "Well then, if you are not sure, I
suggest testing it. We do have few test subjects eager to help, don't we."
He smiled evilly. "But, I think a little...upgrade may be in order. Yess"
Scorponok groaned inwardly. Just what he was afraid of...
___________________________________________________________________________
"I
know this smell!" Kittar was sniffing at the broken scanner vigorously.
"The spiders smelled like that!" Dinobot snarled. "Not
surprising. They are Tarantulas's creations."
"So this was Tarantulas?" "Correct." "And the other
one?" "Scorponok."
She sniffed around for a while, to remember the new smell. "But all traces
are old. We've searched entire area, and there was no sign of Predacons. Now
can we go hunt something?" "*snarl* Go ahead, cat. I will make sure no
one shoots you while you play."
She hissed at him. That was not how she wanted it! Stubborn lizard! She stared
at him, twitching her tail, and then turned and run away. Who cares about him
anyway?
___________________________________________________________________________
Not
a single straw quivered. Not a single sound was aroused. No gust of wind brought
the scent of warning to the unsuspecting victim. It was a perfect trap.
Except...
She knew she'd made a mistake the nano she lunged. The antelope was simply too
big for her; it screamed and bolted, with her clinging to its neck. She sank her
teeth and claws deeper, but her prey only ran faster, until something big and
brown hit it from the side.
"Amateur," Dinobot snarled with contempt. Kittar hissed, then
inspected the way his talons tore through animal's side, and rubbed her muzzle
angrily.
He's
better than me. No fair.
Dinobot started ripping off pieces of meat. She eyed him, then very gently put a
paw on antelope's front leg. When he didn't react, she moved a bit closer. After
a moment she started eating as well, and he didn't protest. Well, as long as he
was sharing food she could live with him being superior.
___________________________________________________________________________
This
time, Rattrap managed to turn around in time, but regretted it immediately.
"Missed me?" "EWWWW! What in da Pit ya ate? No, don't answer dat."
He pushed her away with disgust and got up. "I thought ya were goin' to
scout, lizard-breath!" he said, glaring at Dinobot's bloody face. The
raptor grinned, perfectly aware there were still chunks of meat between his
teeth.
"YUCK! yer disgustin' the pair o' ya! Go an’ clean yerselves!"
"Hmmm, I dare say you could use cleaning yourself, vermin. Your stench can
be smelt miles away." "Oh yeah? Well at least I'm not a mindless
carrion-eater!" "As if the garbage you devour was any
better!"
Kittar sat down and listened, moving her gaze from one opponent to another, like
a tennis-match spectator. Finally Dinobot snarled. "I will not honor that
with a response, rodent. Let's go, cat."
Aww.
And it was such an enjoyable show... She followed Dinobot to the cleaning
facility. It was perfectly normal transformers' bathroom, with four basins full
of cleaning liquid.
"Rhinox made sure the liquid is oxygenized, so you can breath with
it," he informed her, stepping in one of basins and sinking under the
surface. She watched it, feeling her fur rising slightly. She knew perfectly
well how it all worked.
You get in the basin, the liquid starts to flow around you, and the mixture of
chemicals removes and washes away everything that is not a part of you.
It was also a good coolant, that would not short-circuit bot's air intakes the
way water would, and Rhinox’s modification to it meant it would provide beast
mode with oxygen. So a bot could just lay back and wait to be cleaned, not
worrying about anything. Nice, easy and relaxing.
There was only one, itsy-bitsy problem... She stepped to the smallest basin,
gingerly dipped the tip of one paw in it, and jerked it back, shaking it
violently.
Wet!
She stared at the liquid angrily. She circled the basin and touched the surface
at the other end, and jerked her paw back even faster.
WET!
She stood there for a moment, her fur alternately raising and falling back, and
then she just bolted. Stupid cleaning!
___________________________________________________________________________
"Ya
do realize dis is disgusting."
Kittar stopped licking herself clean, looked at him thoughtfully, then she
raised her paw and stretched her fingers. Five sharp claws gleamed in the sun.
"Yea, yea, sure, kill da messenger. Lizards an felines an Preds. I wanna
pay rise, ya hear me, boss-monkey?" "It is hard not to hear you,
Rattrap. Have you fixed that auto-gun already?" "I would've done it,
if I weren't knocked to da ground every five cycles. Are ya sure we can't trade
'er for Blackarachnia?" "Yes, Rattrap, I am positive about that."
Kittar finished ablutions and stretched on the ground, exposing her belly to the
sun. She was starting to doze off, when someone stole the sun again.
"Hey, what do you say we race to the trees and back?"
She didn't even bother to open her eyes. "Don't feel like it."
"Aww,
come on..." Cheetor poked her upturned stomach in a friendly manner. Kittar
shot up almost vertically and punched him upon landing.
"OW!" Cheetor rubbed his nose. "Why d'you do that?"
"Never touch my belly." He wriggled his nose to check if it's still
working. "Why not?" "Because. It's an animal thing."
The young bot sighed, and then he remembered something. "Hey, I've thought
of something. Remember how you couldn't find anything on pods in our computers?
" "Yes." She yawned. "Well, then, maybe you could just go
and see pods yourself?" She livened up at once. "You have the pods? I
thought you've launched them?" "Only the occupied ones, the
rest--" She was on the lift before he could finish. "Well, show
me!"
The stasis hold was a big room, with a row of clamps on all its walls, and an
emergency hatch on the ceiling. Seven pods were still secured to the wall.
Kittar took one look on them, and information exploded in her mind.
"Basic procedure for long cruise vessels is to have onboard the number of
stasis pods equal to number of crew members, plus blanks and spare pods,
quantity of both equal to 10% of crew members number." She smiled at
Cheetor. "So what your crew members number was?"
He blinked, surprised. "Er...thirty two."
"That means three blanks and three spare pods." Looking at the seven
containers, she frowned. "One less than it should be." "Er,
no, actually, the four for standing crew and three spares. Er, cause Dinobot
wasn't with us. Er. He was, kinda, Predacon. But he joined us the first day
we've landed." She looked at him with unblinking optics, thinking it over.
"Oh." She said finally, with a casual tone of voice. It didn't make
any difference for her, really. She moved to the nearest pod and opened its
panel. She looked at the modules, and tens of blueprints and diagrams flashed
behind her optics. She brightened up. "Ah-ha!" "What?"
Cheetor moved closer and looked over her shoulder.
She started to point to various parts of machinery enthusiastically. "See
this? This is a very old model, and it stores different kind of data in
separated modules instead of creating complete virtual core model. Here, this is
a behavioral chip, it determines what basic programmin' ya have, Pred or Maxi
kinda thin'. An here is where dey download yer datatrax, only dey hafta sort it
by complexity, ya know, an da knowledge an skills goes in here, but da personal
data, like memories an stuff, dat goes in here, cause it takes slaggin' complex
structure ta store datas like dat, an dat module is Pit damn fragile, an if
anythi' is to malfunction, dat is what goes first. An dat must be why me an
Tigatron don't have no memories from before here; dat module must 'ave been
scrapped in our pods." She beamed at Cheetor.
"Oh," he said faintly, recovering from the shock of hearing a lecture
said in Rattrap's accent and manner. Why Kittar was talking like that when
Rattrap didn't hear it and therefore couldn't be annoyed by it, was beyond him
"That explains it, I guess..." He thought for a while. "What's a
blank?"
"Just a protoform without a spark. For spare parts, mostly. And in
case..." she stopped talking, looking at him thoughtfully. He seemed a bit
to young to discuss it with him. "Ah, never mind," she finished. And
since pods hold no further interest for her, and she wasn't sleepy any more, she
challenged him. "I bet I can beat you to the trees." She beastmoded
and took off. "No WAY!" Cheetor exclaimed and followed.
___________________________________________________________________________
Scorponok
welded one more wire in place and sighed. He'd run few more tests, which
confirmed that his virus was indeed lethal, but Megatron wanted to know if it
was also affecting behavior the way Scorponok claimed. He didn't want to wait
for a scientist to remove the flaws, though, so he came up with a partial
solution. The cyber bee that was initially intended to be only a carrier of the
virus, was to be modified to keep infected unit on-line for one solar-cycle.
"The
target will be Optimus Primal." Megatron said. "When he's infected,
his troops will either remove the bee - thus killing their leader, - or will be
forced to negotiate with us in order to acquire the cure." He smiled
evilly. He knew exactly what he'd demand in that instance.
"They could also attack us," Tarantulas noticed not looking at him. He
was busy searching data for one specific blueprint. The information on the
machinery Megatron was interested in was fragmentary and scattered. Some
information here, some diagrams there, some references somewhere else... Piecing
it all together was a monumental task, and he'd still have to fill gaps by
himself. And even if he managed to make it all work, Megatron would probably do
something stupid and waste all his efforts. Tarantulas was annoyed, and, going
along with predacon traditions, was trying to spread the mood. He didn't
succeed.
"They could try, of course. But with their leader hiding at the bottom of
their ship, and the tiger wandering more than two solar-cycles away, they will
be no threat to us." Predacon leader smiled at his scientists. "Even
with Rust and Terrorsaur gone, we won't have troubles defending the base against
four Maximals, noo."
Tarantulas chuckled at that.
Megatron raised an optic ridge. "I'm glad you find this amusing,
Tarantulas. Or maybe you have any... suggestions?"
The spider smirked. "Indeed I have."
You should keep better account of your enemies, oh Mighty One.
"You
could enclose a bomb to Scorponok's cyber bee. That way you could take down more
that one Maximal, if they will be stupid enough to remove it." Megatron for
a few nanos just watched him in silence, trying to determine if he'd really
heard a note of mockery in the spider's voice, but then he smiled. "An
excellent idea, yess. Scorponok, see to that."
Scorponok put the tools down with an irritated sigh. He was almost finished, and
now he'd have to redesign the whole thing completely. He was sure the spider did
it on purpose.
"It will take a few solar cycles Megatron. My cyber bees weren't designed
for such tasks."
"Well then, it is your job to change them, I believe. Yess. Oh, and
Scorponok..."
The scorpion was heading to the exit to bring new components, but stopped and
turned round at his leader's voice. "Yes, Megatron?"
"If our 'test' gives satisfying results, I'll want you to supply us with a
bigger amount of that virus."
The
scientist shifted uncomfortably. That was the tricky part. "I... I'm not
sure if I can Megatron. I was updating records on it when we lost power,
and..." he cleared his throat. "All data was lost. Beyond
recovery."
Megatron
growled. "NOW you're telling me this?"
Scorponok bowed his head in shame.
Purple-bot tapped his fingers against the armrest, glaring. "Proceed with
your current task," he said at last, making a mental note to rip Rust's
ears off for that. Who knows what other damages his incompetent meddling had
inflicted!
___________________________________________________________________________
"Stop
meddling with that, you'll break it!"
"You'd prefer if I broke something else? Someone's big red beak for
example?"
Rust's tone of voice was rather playful, but Terrorsaur moved to the safe
distance nevertheless. You never know with those psycho-types...
Rust chuckled and put a small integrated circuit down. After all, he didn't know
if his bad electronic karma wouldn't strike again. No point in damaging
anything, when resources were so scarce. "So, you think we've got
everything?"
"Huh. Everything that was retrievable. If the spider wants anything else,
he'll have to move his fat thorax and get it himself."
Rust laughed silently and beastmoded. "All right. Backpack, please!"
Terrorsaur heaved container with a grunt, put it on the wolf's back and
activated clamps. Rust wriggled a bit to adjust to the weight, and took a few
experimental steps. The platform stirred and followed, but its content didn't
shift. "Whaddya know, you really know how to secure the cargo."
Terrorsaur
made a face at him, and he chuckled again. Questioning a Preds' competence was a
sure way to tick them off. It hadn't yet failed him once.
"Well then, let's go. You can ride the platform, but," and here his
voice almost froze the air, quite a trick considering they were on a desert,
"if you start singing again, I will tear you apart, no matter how hard I
laugh."
___________________________________________________________________________
drip...drip....drip.....
Amber optics followed the drops' progress through the series of glass tubes. If
her calculations were correct, the extract's concentration would--
"Ya know, dat thing is a perfect model of yer mind. All weird an
twisted."
Kittar snorted and turned to Rattrap. Her optics gleamed when she saw what he
was doing. "Where do you think you're going with my feeder?" "Yer
feeder?! It's an Axalon's equipment, everyone can use it!" "You
can use it, you just can't take it outside." "Because?" "You'll
break it." "Wha--? I've been usin' feeders long before yer spark
ever came on-line!" "But they weren't MINE feeders!" "Dey
are not yers! I need to re-energize, an--" "You can very well
re-energize right here." "No I can't." "Yes you
can." "No I can't!" "Yes you can." "Oh,
dis is ridiculous!" he turned and started to the door. A red cat leapt
above his head, landed in a doorway and maximized, blocking it.
*hissssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!*
Oh-oh.
Hissing. Bad news. Very bad news. How can a bot argue with something that's
hissing? Rattrap glared at her, putting in his gaze as much hostility as he
could manage. She returned the glare.
And here they are! In the right corner - red opticed dislike mixed with
experienced cynicism, in the left corner - amber opticed sheer, fiery
stubbornness. What a fight, ladies and gentlemen, what a fight!
Rattrap gave up first. He didn't have all day to waste on some cat's whims. He
sat on a box in the corner. "Here. Ya happy?" She smiled triumphantly,
walking to him and pulling the feeder out of his hands.
"Hey!" he protested. "What do ya--? Oh for bootin' up cold, I can
do dis myself!" She purred, hanging the feeder up and hooking it to
Rattrap's arm.
" rrrrrr yerself," he murmured under his breath, resigning himself to
his fate. "Preds an lizards an cats. An now she's our chief medic all of a
sudden." He shook his head sadly. "We're all gonna die."
___________________________________________________________________________
Optimus inhaled deeply and smiled. It was a lovely day, there were no arguments
amid the crew for a change, and the Predacons hadn't been causing troubles for
solar-cycles. It was a perfect moment. He laughed out loud suddenly.
Rhinox moved one ear and glanced at him curiously.
"I just though how lovely this day is, and the next thing that popped in my
mind was that there are sure to be some troubles before the sunset."
Optimus answered an unasked question and laughed again. "Rattrap's
pessimism is contagious."
Rhinox smiled at the comment. "Are you sure it was Rattrap's
influence?" He motioned toward Dinobot, who was checking if auto-guns were
functional at the moment. "The longer Predacons are quiet, the more jumpy
he gets."
"That's true. Maybe a little field trip would lighten him up?"
This time the rhino chuckled. "I very much doubt it." "Well,
it's worth a try. I was going to do some exploring anyway." "Good
luck. You're gonna need it."
___________________________________________________________________________
Hidden
behind a boulder, Scorponok peeked out carefully. Optimus and Dinobot were
debating over some plant, and he felt a pang of envy. Not that he was
particularly interested in plants, but he'd much prefer to be in his lab
inventing - or at least, improving - something, than lurk here, with a cyber-bee
full of deadly virus. Biological weapons always made him nervous, and this time
it was worse than usual - because it was his creation. So, so different from
what he wanted it to be. With a sigh he stepped from his hideout and took aim.
__________________________________________________________________________
The
screen lit up with diagrams, graphs and numbers, but it was all not enough.
Kittar growled. "This CR sucks!" Her fingers danced over the keyboard,
bringing up more info. "This is a viral mine of some kind, but not only
that. The virus is disrupting energy flow in his spark, but the bee is
stabilizing it. So - it had infected him, but is keeping him on-line at the same
time. The virus must have some other effect as well, but I can't make analysis
until he's out of this piece of junk." She snorted impatiently. "I
could hook him up to life support and remove the bee, but here--" she
displayed fragment of diagram, "--is something weird." Rhinox narrowed
his optics. "It is a bomb. Give me a 3D image."
Kittar typed in some commands and required image appeared. Rhinox and Rattrap
studied it, frowning.
"A spot bomb. I hate dis things. Dey're unpredictable!"
"And
it is set to explode when the bee is removed."
Cheetor shook his head in confusion. "I don't get it. A viral mine with
life support and a bomb? Why? What for?"
Kittar shrugged. "Maybe they hoped we'll just yank it and kill
ourselves."
Dinobot snarled and shook his head. "Megatron wouldn't go to all the
trouble if he hadn't something else in mind. *snarl*. You said it's a viral
mine. Scorponok used to mumble about a virus he was thinking about - the one
that would turn warriors into a cowards!"
Kittar swiveled in her chair to look at him. "Behav-virus? Then we have
nothing to worry about."
In the sudden silence a distant chirp of crickets could be clearly heard. She
shrugged. "What? Behav-virs are extremely tricky things to make. There are
only two that actually work, and they are not working the way their creators had
initially in mind. The others don't work at all."
Rhinox coughed. "So you're saying..." "That the bomb is our
only problem now. I can handle the rest." She smiled at Rattrap.
"Explosives are your specialty, right?" Before he could respond, the
CR was blasted apart. Two fiery optics flared in the smoke.
"All right! Who wants some?!!!"
___________________________________________________________________________
Rhinox
sat down with exhausted sigh. Dinobot leaned against the wall. Rattrap winced,
rubbing the back of his head. Cheetor was sitting on the floor, hunched
dejectedly.
Containing their suddenly violent leader hadn't been an easy task. Kittar looked
at them with a smirk. "My heroes." She raised a syringe to the light
and inspected mech fluid within. Rhinox blinked. "When did you manage to
get this?" "When he was busy strangling you. Now excuse me,
gents, but I have a counter virus to make." She departed to the Med Bay.
Rattrap scowled. "When he was busy stranglin' ya. Ain't she sweet? Are ya
SURE she ain't a Pred?"
"Shut up, Rattrap," Cheetor murmured, sliding to the floor.
___________________________________________________________________________
"So,
how are you doing?"
Kittar rubbed her face impatiently. "I've separated the virus and I'm
working on a counter right now. Yes, I did say it before, and yes, I will repeat
it the next time you ask. It takes TIME."
Cheetor sent her a hurt glance and left. He just couldn't stand to see Optimus -
his commander, his hero - in this state. He trudged around the base, with his
head bowed, not paying attention to his surrounding. He cringed at a sudden roar
of rage. He looked up to discover that he somehow ended up outside the brig.
"Optimus," he whispered, touching the clear panel.
___________________________________________________________________________
Rattrap got up and brushed himself off. He took a look at a demolished control
room. "Good work, genius. Really great work. Couldn't ya just wait till
Kittar fixes the medicine for 'im?"
Cheetor's optics were full of guilt and despair. "But it was taking ages!
And it wasn't right to lock him up like that! He was hurting himself in
there!"
"An whaddaya think he's gonna do now, huh? Attackin' the Preds' base, dat's
what he's gonna do. Ya think he won't get hurt there?"
"That's enough," Rhinox rumbled, heading for the lift. "We just
have to back him up. Now." He looked at Kittar. "You work on that
anti-virus. We'll try to get it from the Preds, but in case we don't
succeed..." She nodded. "Good luck."
__________________________________________________________________________
"Home
sweet home!"
"Huh?" the pterodactyl looked up and brightened. The form of black
ship was outlined against the sky. "Finally! One more day with you and I'd
go crazy."
The
wolf stopped so suddenly, that Terrorsaur was catapulted forward from the
overloaded platform. He flapped his wings madly, and managed to land on his
feet. "What's with you?!"
Rust perked his ears, his body tense. "Gunfire." He transformed twice
and dashed towards the base, leaving the cargo behind. After a moment's
hesitation, Terrorsaur followed. He didn't hear anything, but-- Explosion shook
the air.
OK, so there was some fighting. He kept at Rust's tail, since the wolf
obviously knew where he was going. Rust reached the base, darted inside, found
what he was looking for and stopped, transforming to bot mode. Terrorsaur came
to a halt behind him, looked down at two bodies lying in a crater, and laughed.
"Ha! Our beloved leader and his loyal second in command!" He started
toward them. "Let's throw them into lava!"
*Cli--click-clong*
--and
Terrorsaur's universe suddenly froze, divided in two overlapping realities.
In
one there was a ship, a crater, and Rust, still looking down at Megatron, his
left arm outstretched in red bot's direction.
In
the second, there was a long, dark tunnel, with a searing light at the end. The
light was humming softly, and seemed to be calling to him...
And what it called was:
Hi
there, Terror! Remember Rust's blaster? The one as big as your arm? You're
looking into its barrel, pressed to your right optic. And that light you see -
pretty, isn't it? - means that he'd already pulled the trigger almost all the
way, and now it's only the twitch of his finger that's between you and
decapitation. Have a nice day!
Very,
very slowly, trying not to breath and even not to blink, Terror raised his hands
in surrender, praying with all his might for Rust to accept it. He could survive
having his head severed, not disintegrated...
Rust's finger relaxed, and the light disappeared, but the blaster remained in
place. "You were saying?"
Hundreds of thoughts came running through dactyl's head as he restarted his air
intakes, and one pushed to the front before he could stop it. "WHY are you
so slaggin' loyal to him?" and he gasped, expecting to be scrapped for
this. To his amazement, Rust merely laughed. "Because I choose to be that
way. Now, are you going to help me take them to CR-tanks, or would you rather
join them?" "I'll help." "Good."
When
Megatron and Scorponok landed in tanks, Rust did... something. His optics glazed
for a few nanos, and then he headed straight to the first level, where--
"Holy
slag, spider!"
Tarantulas
rolled his head. ".....en?" he mumbled unintelligibly.
Rust was at his side in an instant. Terrorsaur only gaped. The spider was pinned
to the wall with his own projectile, and his arms where hanging limply at his
sides, due to large holes blasted in his shoulders. That was... well, not so
horrible, he'd seen worse at the arena, but who could have done this here?
Surely not Maximals?
Rust looked at him over his shoulder. "Go outside and check how the rest
are doing." Terrorsaur obeyed. After third grade meeting with this blaster,
he was in no mood to argue. When left alone, Rust inspected Tarantulas's wounds.
"It's gonna hurt," he warned, grabbing the projectile and pressing one
foot against the wall for additional leverage.
"It...nna...urt,"
said a voice, and then pain he felt increased rapidly. Tarantulas barely stopped
the cry that tried to escape his voice box. Some weird noise nearby, and
sensation of being carried. Pain subsided a little. And a voice again. "Yo...gon.....al..ight.
I...akin....to...CR....." Whose voice was that? He didn't recognize it. It
continued talking, giving him something he could focus on, till he was laid on a
cold metal, and darkness of off-line claimed him, as cool fluid of CR-tank
covered his body.
Rust
turned from CR as Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia brought in Waspinator.
"Slaggin' Pit! What hit him?" "Rhinox's chain
guns."
Rust shook his head and brought on-line yet another CR-tank. Good thing they had
enough of those. "And you told me the Maxis here were wimps." He made
sure every piece of his roommate landed in the tank, and then herded the
remaining two bots to the control room. Once there, he checked damage reports.
"Well, we have some repairs to do. You," he looked at Blackarachnia,
"will take care of electricity, while Terror and me patch up the outer
wall."
Spider-fem snorted. "And why should we do anything you say?"
Rust smiled, walked to her and slammed her to the wall. "Because I'm bigger
and nastier and I will break your legs if you try to point them at me." He
smiled again. Blackarachnia lowered her machineguns she'd started to raise, and
her dark optics flickered to the side. Rust knew perfectly well what she was
looking at. Or whom, to be more precise. Terrorsaur was now behind his back, and
she was seeking help from him. He didn't turn. Instead, he stared at the shiny
metal of her face. Terrorsaur's silhouette was reflected in it clearly.
The red bot didn't even stir. She could be as attractive as she wanted, he
wasn't feeling heroic today. You're on your own, lady.
Blackarachnia
narrowed her optics. Coward!
"Oh, whatever!" she gritted and pushed past Rust. He laughed silently,
turning to face Terrorsaur. "Well, let's move."
___________________________________________________________________________
Cheetor
was frantic.
"Why
is he off-line? He was fine just a cycle ago! Has something gone wrong?"
Kittar shook her head and rolled her optics before answering. "He's just
recharging. He's had a hard day, if you didn't notice." She subspaced her
monitor. "Just take him to his quarters and let him sleep it off. I'll be
there in a moment to set up energon feed."
Rattrap
sat down, putting his feet up at the table. "Well, we didn't die today.
Ain't life full of surprises, Chopper-face?" "For once, I must agree
with you, vermin," Dinobot snarled. Rattrap shut his mouth in the middle of
a yawn. "Well, ah, now I know yer tired. Hey, where are ya goin'?" "I
have... something I must attend to," the warrior answer from the lift.
"It's
just like Dinobot said, we have to hit them hard, fast and right where it hurts!"
Optimus had screamed just before he blew up the lift's door and stormed out of
the base. It was...strange, to have his own words thrown back at him like this.
And somehow, they didn't sound so wise anymore. To admit a mistake was something
that Predacons weren't good at. Dinobot knew he probably would never force the
right words out. But--
-he
crouched beside small plant-
--perhaps
there was a different way.
___________________________________________________________________________
"I
really don't know which one of you I hate mo-*yawn*-re", Terrorsaur stated,
leaning heavily against the wall.
The blue bot chuckled. "I'll take it as a compliment." Blackarachnia
muttered something un-lady-like, suppressing a yawn. Rust shook in silent
laughter. Actually, he was just as tired as they were, but he was not going to
show it. It would take all the fun out of it. "I really don't understand
why you are so exhausted. One would think you've never worked full time
before."
Two smaller bot shot him hostile glances. He grinned.
A small beep came from a CR tank. Rust turned to face it, keeping hands behind
his back. It was his version of standing to attention. "Welcome back,
sir."
Megatron
shook his head, stared at three bots in front of him, and terrorized, out of
normal predacon paranoia. Then he looked at them closer, and determined they
weren't a threat. Then he sorted through the memories. The most recent one
included the bomb on his neck. He winced, checking the time. Twelve mega-cycles.
Well, not so bad. He jumped down from the platform. "I see you've come
back."
Rust nodded. "We've brought parts Tarantulas told us about. They're now in
hold #3. Here's the list." He handed Megatron a data-pad. "Terrorsaur
made it, cause I couldn't recognize half of this. And we have repaired damages
to the base while you were off-line."
Megatron raised optic ridges. That would explain why the other two looked so
exhausted. "Good. Where's the rest of the crew?"
Rust gestured to the CRs behind him. Megatron turned and scowled. Three tanks
were active. The panels on two of them told him that repair cycles were almost
complete. And somehow, he had no doubt that in the one that was only halfway
through repairs was a certain wasp. He growled quietly, before turning back to
Rust.
"The three of you are off-duty for now." "Thank you, sir."
Rust saluted, properly for once, did a perfect turnabout and left. Terrorsaur
and Blackarachnia stumbled after him.
Once in his room, Rust let the long suppressed yawn escape him. He inspected his
bunk tiredly. Was scrambling up there worth the effort? He felt his optics
shutting down. Nope. Not worth it at all. He beastmoded and was deep in recharge
even before his head touched the floor.
___________________________________________________________________________
In
a dark lab someone switched on the computer. The codes, nanites' diagrams and
chemical formulas scrolled on the screen, the results of months of work and
dreams.
Wasted.
A few keys were hit.
Delete
folder Vir-027
Confirm/Abort
?
The
words were blinking on a screen.
A
claw touched the button.