Traitor and Warrior: All About Honor
By: Master Solo
Disclaimer: I’d love to own Beast Wars, but I don’t.
Plot’s mine and OC’s are mine, though.
Hundreds of stellarcycles passed
since the Beast Wars, yet I can recall every detail of every battle.
My first form was that of a gun
turret and I spent most of my time training under the instruction of my creator
until the Tripredacus council saw me fit for one of their armies.
For stellarcycles, I fought every enemy but the Maximals and the humans
and I became Commander Laserbreath.
The Beast Wars came about and my
honor ultimately led me to battle alongside the Maximals.
The honorable warrior always kills
when necessary. In an effort to spy
on the Maximals, Megatron created a clone from my DNA and used a coward to bury
me in a cave. When I emerged, I
found my clone working for Megatron’s schemes in the Maximal base.
The clone had, (I believed at the
time) sent a friend, even if it is the vermin, to die in a lava pit and was
preparing the Axalon for an invasion, so I challenged the creature to a battle.
I offered an honorable fight, but his lack of honor enraged me to the
core. I prefer to keep trophies,
but my energy was depleted and I refuse to confront Megatron as an inferior in
any fashion, so I ate the clone. It
is a pity, since he was a handsome creature.
The Maximals detected a probe in the
system and almost returned to Cybertron. It
would have meant an end to the war and they were elated.
However, I was a warrior and even if I was made a hero then like the
feline promised, what is a warrior without war?
I was not a Maximal very long, but I knew enough to know that their
Elders are at peace with everyone in this galaxy.
Megatron destroyed the instrument and I, for the first time in an
indefinite amount of time, was uncertain of my feelings.
Many battles occurred between that
time and the arrival of the two fuzors, but these tales are not worthy of
telling. The honorable Predacon
warrior is always merciful in delivering death rather than prolonging life when
necessary. We defeated a worthy
opponent named Silverbolt and I was to honor him with the merciful, warrior’s
death that he deserves when both the feline child and the vermin blocked my
sword.
In the days that followed,
Silverbolt’s behavior made me question my honor.
He is a blasted pacifist and totally useless in battle against
Blackarachnia, but he became a worthy addition to the team.
After some dishonorable deeds, I
sought to mitigate my past and prove myself an honorable warrior.
I sought for opportunity and found much more than I could ever demand.
During my brief stay in the valley from which the human race emerged, I
became a warrior fighting for human existence rather than the Predacon Alliance.
I did not expect to live; yet I awoke in the CR chamber.
As I lift my hands and when I see my
reflection in my talons, I cannot help but once again feel disgusted.
I see the everlasting effects of the Transmetal2 storm, which usurped the
honor I almost died to regain.
Every time I see myself, I am
reminded of how fate cruelly tested my honor with the Transmetal2 driver by
forcing this new form upon me.
One key point of honor is skill.
Every time I gaze upon my new laser, I recall the amount of valuable
skill, which I spent stellarcycles honing, that went to waste.
There is not even my favorite bit of brutality in my new weapons.
However, I cannot truly dislike my form, for a warrior uses every weapon
and tool available.
The Maximals discovered the Ark and
eventually won the war. They
considered it good news, but I was uncertain.
I chose to appear alongside my former, Predacon friends before the
Tripredacus Council and the Predacon Alliance sentenced me to life in exile for
treason.
The honorable warriors must tell the
tales of his fallen friends, I must record the fates of my former allies.
Megatron was terminated immediately after he was presented before the
Council and all but Inferno and Rampage were given various sentences in a
maximum-security prison.
Quickstrike had the opportunity to be
paroled, but he started many prison fights and was terminated.
Rampage was left to die on a desert
planet at the edge of the galaxy.
Waspinator and the irritating termite
were released from prison after five stellarcycles, and according to the vermin,
the insect became a Maximal.
The ant would have been in prison,
but the council deemed him insane and sent him to an asylum when he called them
‘my queens’. He then began to
refer to the owner of the asylum as queen and flattered her. She released the ant and I do not know of his whereabouts,
but I have reason to believe that he is on a small, distant moon that we
colonized.
The Maximals, despite my appearing
before the Predacon Alliance with Megatron’s surviving cohorts, welcomed me
into their ranks for reasons I fail to comprehend.
Tarantulas was paroled from prison
one day and the poor, insane spider attempted to create a clone army for Unicron.
I could only pity him as I executed him with my eye laser after he
attempted to battle me with much dishonor.
He did not deserve such a warrior’s death, but destiny is unfair.
I cannot say the same about my clone,
which was more like half-clone, since Tarantulas’ DNA samples were altered and
many chromosomes were switched around. By
all means, I should have sent her spark either to the Pit or the Matrix, but I
could not. Megatron, insane as he
was, spoke words that carried the stench of truth.
I do not enjoy admitting this fact, but I was weakened by compassion
before I even started.
The clone stared at me with large,
innocent eyes that made me more uncomfortable by the cycle.
I was forced to question whether or not it was necessary to end that
pitiful life as well as Tarantulas’. My
answer should have been yes and would have been that before I began to fight
alongside the Maximals, but I answered no.
Perhaps it was not compassion, which I do not possess, but rather the
warrior potential I saw in the child. Potential,
especially in a young transformer, is the worst thing to waste.
I took this child home and trained
her like I would any other student, perhaps unlike any other student.
I should regret this decision, and yet I do not, even though she haunts
me daily with her resemblance to my former self and annoys me on a regular basis
by calling me ‘Daddy’.
I am a Predacon warrior, but have I
changed so much as to tolerate these names from one other than the
cheese-smelling rodent? Is this
clone’s survival because of my ‘compassion’ or because she did not provoke
a battle and attack my comrades like the last clone?
I once sought to answer these questions, and the fuzor said that my
warrior’s honor actually drove me to spare this spark.
-End of Recording-
My life, until the battle for the
human race in the valley, centered mostly on the two Golden Disks, which we, the
Predacons treasured above all other artifacts and which Megatron’s
organization stole. I started my
life as a simple soldier and guardian. I
still desire to think of myself as one, but such glorious days were gone, for
the cause to which I truly belong calls me traitor.
In the distant past, I commanded armies for the Tripredacus council.
The first time I became such a
despicable thing, I lead my troops in the operation to eradicate Megatron’s
organization. The battle was long
and arduous and only I stood between the five remaining members of Megatron’s
organization and his escape to Earth. I
wished to die with my comrades then, but Megatron had convinced me to betray my
general and join his organization.
I should have fallen in battle with
my fellow warriors, but destiny preserved me alive, for its test for me had yet
to come.
A deed, once done, cannot be undone,
but there was full recourse for me then. I,
to this day, regret, to some degree, not returning to the Tripredacus council
and taking the demotion I deserved for my dishonorable act.
Instead, I followed my lust for glory
and agreed to aid Megatron, for, at the time, I did not realize how insane the
tyrant was. If he truly ruled
Cybertron, the sole happy transformer, Predacon and Maximal alike, would be
Megatron. Sadly, I did not realize
this for many months.
I treaded the wrong road and betrayed
my honor and that of those who fell. I
was to defend and give to the honor of my fallen soldiers, for rest is silence.
I once believed I could recapture the
stolen disks and dissolve Megatron’s organization single-handedly.
I thought I could regain my honor and complete the task the council
handed to me by challenging Megatron for leadership, but I was idealistic and
arrogant to assume him to be honorable.
In my reflection, I see a Maximal
symbol imprinted on my armor and the glow of Predacon core programming in my
optics. Most, perhaps all but the
vermin fail to acknowledge this, but I am a Predacon despite this Maximal
insignia.
Megatron, in his cowardly act, used a
minion to boot me from the Darkside. An
honorable Predacon never left his assignments unfinished, so, in order to
preserve my honor and that of my fallen friends, I allied myself with the
Maximals.
An honorable Predacon warrior was
exactly that, and I was torn. I
should not have changed my insignia or voice activation code, but I was both
angry and desperate to avenge a long list of crimes.
For an indefinitely long time, I
regretted my rash act of betraying my honor and joining the Maximals.
How could the Predacon Alliance gaze upon one who betrayed the core of
his honor? My dislike of Megatron
suppressed my desires to return to his Predacons until I discovered that we
truly landed on Earth from the information on the Golden disk that I gave to
Rhinox.
As much as I disliked Megatron, the
tyrant was correct and I, at the time, considered it my duty as a Predacon to
turn the tide of the Great War in our favor.
I believed I did my fellow Predacons and my ancestor, Rumble, a favor in
returning one of the Golden Disks I stole.
I came to regret my actions when I
saw how insane Megatron would be. I
could only heap favors upon my Predacon and Decepticon ancestors if I remained
amongst the Maximals and opposed Megatron until one of us is terminated.
For the remainder of the Beast Wars, perhaps for eternity, the Maximal
base would be my home.
However, in Maximal eyes, I was twice
a dishonorable traitor and in my own, shamefully, I was four times such.
The Maximals were rightfully bitter and that bitterness gave way to my
anger when I failed my first attempt to redeem myself in their eyes.
In speaking on the behalf of the Maximals with regard to my actions, the
vermin, in a strange way, temporarily became a guide of sorts.
I learned that Megatron intended to destroy the roots of the human race
and it became my duty to stop him.
My future was, after all, not fixed
like I once believed it to be and to be determined by my actions, yet it was
ironic that on that day, I had no choice at all.
I wished desperately to join the
Matrix and would have done so had stasis lock, and perhaps destiny, not barred
me. Still, I believed I fulfilled
my purpose then, for the humans live, the golden disk was destroyed, and my
honor, which I betrayed, was restored.
A Transwarp wave reached Cybertron
and the Tripredacus Council sent Ravage to execute Megatron with extreme
prejudice. I thought my honor was
fully restored when I allied myself with a comrade of my ancestor, but I was
proven wrong when he joined Megatron.
Here I am, a Predacon who went to the
Maximals because he did not wish to see his people or his ancestors rule his
home planet. Megatron thinks I am a
pitiful thing while Primal called me a hero.
Perhaps one is right and one is wrong.
Perhaps neither or both are right. Primus
knows who is right, for he knows me far better than any other transformer.
Throughout the many battles that
followed, I tried to cling to my honor. Whether
or not I was successful is for Primus to judge.
The Maximals won the Beast Wars and they insisted that I return to
Cybertron with them.
I was brought before the Tripredacus
Council and faced with my treachery again.
I am a Predacon and believe to this day that I had completed their every
order through many twists and turns. The
councilors shared my beliefs, except that they saw me as a Maximal and a
despicable traitor whose actions caused the destruction of the Golden Disks,
which, truth be told, I will forever remain, and gave me their final command.
I was to permanently leave their sight and all Predacon territories.
-End of Recording-
“And I thought I knew all about Daddy and his war stories. I hope Daddy won’t mind if I put titles on his files.” Commented a raptor who stood a head shorter than Dinobot when she finished playing the recordings. At first glance, the creature might prove identical to Dinobot, but unlike the warrior from whom she was cloned, this raptor had red talons on both hands and feet, eyelashes that would put anime characters to shame, and crimson lips that suggested of a makeover at human hands. “Well, there goes my date with that cutie Ravage. I should probably break up and make sure he flies off to some Predacon world before Daddy finds out anything.”
With that, the raptor transformed and left.