Bold Ambitions

By: LoneMaximal

PG 13

Violence and Language

Rattrap yawned and stretched lazily in his computer post chair. All he’d done that morning was stare at the same on-screen grid; gradually growing more and more bored with every passing click. He sighed to himself; a long, deep, tired sigh. It looked as though today was just going to be another one of those quiet days.

Predacon activity had become rather sloppy and sporadic of late. Sure, there had been a few minor recovery attempts on the large mass of raw energon that had previously been uncovered; but they had all been easily thwarted with the help of the two eager new recruits.

 You see, it turned out Tigatron was quite handy with intercepting com-link frequencies. It was the very technique he’d used before to make contact with the Maximals when Airazor was in trouble.

 By singling out the frequencies every Maximal com and computer gave out, Tigatron was able to identify Megatron’s master frequency; used for the Darkside’s computer control and

contacting all Predacons.

‘It’s really quite simple,’ he’d told Rhinox, and demonstrated on the Axalon main computer.

 ‘By identifying our own links…’ he typed something into the computer, which instantly brought up a frequency wave pattern. ‘We can cancel them out.’

 He did so to demonstrate; highlighting the Maximal frequencies in blue.

 ‘Then it’s all a matter of identifying and tracking the signal we have left, namely Megatron’s.’

 And with a simple track command, Megatron’s impatient shouts soon filled the main command room.

Needless to say, the secret link had made life very easy for the Maximals. And what was more, it was completely undetectable.

 Now they were able to learn of and stop all of Megatron’s schemes before they came to fruition. And with Airazor and Tigatron at their side, it didn’t take long before the battle was over and won.

Yes, you could say Tigatron and Airazor were settling into Maximal life nicely. And to Optimus and Rhinox’s delight, the two were more than happy to teach the Maximals about  Earth Transformers and their culture.  

‘One thing I wanna know,’ Rhinox ventured eagerly. ‘Is how you two can stand the unstable energon radiation on this planet for so long?’

 ‘Simple,’ Airazor smiled. ‘It doesn’t affect us. You see, over the generations, our ancestors managed to build up a resistance to the planet’s radiation. Living with raw energon for so long, I guess it was just a matter of time till we adapted and learnt to live with it. Today, we are totally immune to it’s effects.

 That’s kind of why Tigatron was a little jumpy before. We’ve never known the energon to affect other transformers like it does you guys.’

 Rhinox hummed to himself with interest, rubbing the top of his helm.

 Optimus folded his arms and remained silent with thought.

‘Tell me,’ he began. ‘How long have you been here? Earth Transformers I mean.’

 Airazor and Tigatron exchanged questioning glances with one another.

 ‘Well…we’re not exactly sure,’ Tigatron replied uneasily. ‘It really has been generations.’

 Optimus thought again.

 ‘Hmm, perhaps I asked the wrong question. What I meant was, how exactly did you first get here?’

 ‘Oh…well, I don’t know that,’ Airazor pondered. ‘That was way before my time.’

 ‘Mine too,’ Tigatron shrugged. ‘Perhaps, maybe…’ he glanced at Airazor, as if for an indication whether he could continue or not. Airazor gave a slight nod.

 ‘Perhaps the Earth Protector would know.’

 ‘Earth Protector?’ Rhinox and Optimus chorused together.

 ‘And who’s that?’ Optimus continued to ask.

 ‘A very wise and powerful Earth Transformer who ensures the peace and safety of this planet. It is he who warned our people to take refuge underground when news of you first coming was discovered.’

 ‘That would explain why we’ve never seen any other transformers like you,’ Rhinox exclaimed.

  The two nodded.

 ‘So, the Earth Protector is kind of like your ruler, is that it?’ Optimus asked again.

 ‘That’s it,’ Airazor said. ‘But it’s strange. He’s never actually seen that way.  You see, he’s quite modest, and extremely kind and caring.’

 ‘Hmm, well I think it would be a good idea to meet your Earth Protector,’ Optimus stated determinedly. ‘Then we can straighten out that we mean this planet no harm.’

 ‘Optimus, you can’t!’ Airazor cried suddenly, grasping both his arms and standing to face him, catching the three males quite off-guard.

‘The Earth Protector has deemed you all dangerous. The transformers of this planet wouldn’t accept it!’ She spoke quickly and fearfully, her voice high, and her optics wide with terror. ‘Please, listen to me. You’re in great danger if you even think about trying to reason with either. It’s not worth it.’

 Optimus stared at her in shock. Distress was etched all over Airazor’s face; it actually looked as though tears were beginning to well in her optics.

 Whatever possible morbid fate beheld the Maximals, it was clearly too awful for their friends to allow to happen.

  However, Optimus would never have thought in a million stellar cycles that is was them who were mostly, if not fully, responsible for their perilous fate.

‘Am I missing something?’ Rattrap called from behind, having just entered the room.

 Airazor and Optimus jumped slightly; Airazor quickly hid her hands behind her back, whilst Tigatron came over to comfort and talk to her.

 ‘Oh, Rattrap,’ Optimus smiled falsely, failing to hide his surprise, and quickly turned to face him. ‘And how about you? You have something to report?’

 ‘PSSHH! No! It’s as dead as a morgue after closing hours out there. I just needed to get up before my skidplates rusted to the chair.’

 He crossed his arms behind the back of his head and walked up and down the room, as if trying to shake off some long ailing cramp.

 ‘Anyhoo, I was s’posed to finish at least half an hour ago.’

 ‘Hm?’ Rhinox sounded from the side. He had since made himself busy at the surrounding command desks. ‘But I thought Cheetor was supposed to relieve you?’

 ‘So did I,’ Rattrap raged at him. ‘But he’s still out where, doing who knows what!’ He waved his arms frantically in the air as he spoke.

 Optimus groaned and covered his head with his hands.

 ‘Not again!’

****

Not too far from the Axalon, somewhere in the dense foliage of forest that surrounded the ship, Cheetor could be found taking a guided tour of the area from Leon Prime.

 It had been some two days since that last battle in which Prime had rescued the young Maximal. Since then, the two were becoming fast friends, and now had a common meeting spot in the forest, where one would very often find the other.

 Conversation rarely left the subject of Prime explaining and answering questions asked by Cheetor, though he didn’t seem to mind. It appeared he had taken a great liking to Cheetor, which was naturally, mutually felt towards him by the young Maximal.

 One thing Cheetor had noticed over the past few days, was that since the battle, Prime hadn’t again appeared in his strange, alter dragon-form, nor had the subject ever been mentioned. Furthermore, Cheetor hadn’t seen him in his Robot Mode since they’d first met.

 He told himself it was probably nothing. It’s just Prime did seem to avoid transforming in front of him. But then again, Cheetor had to remind himself  that he was a Maximal, and that Prime saw both Maximals and Predacons with incredible unease.

Today, Prime was supposed to be teaching Cheetor about the natural features of the area, though the topic of which was quickly forgotten as Cheetor began to ask questions.

‘Hey, Prime,’ Cheetor began, as the two large cats strolled through the forest.

‘What’s up, C?’ Prime replied, stopping to hear what Cheetor had to say.

 ‘Well it’s just…one thing’s been bugging me since I first found out there were transformers on this planet.’

 ‘Ok, shoot.’

 Cheetor paused for a second so he could word his question correctly.

 ‘Right,’ he breathed. ‘Prime, why are there are transformers on this planet?’

  A bemused smile spread over the lion’s feline mouth, and he shook his head slightly, laughing quietly to himself.

 ‘Oh, man,’ he chuckled. ‘Don’t make me relive the History lesson, jeez!’

‘Alright,’ he said, sounding quite exasperated. ‘Basically, we Earth Transformers haven’t always been here. Apparently we came from some other planet, really far away from here. I don’t know where it is, I don’t know what it’s called; heck, I don’t even know if it’s still there. But that’s where we came from.

 Anyway, this planet was split into two sides, Autobots and Decepticons, you might’ve heard of ‘em…’

 Cheetor’s bright feline eyes widened and his pupils thinned at the mention of the old transformer factions.

‘…well, these two sides were always at war. Always fighting and killing each other. Now, a couple of bots from each side didn’t like this.  Nothing was coming from the fighting except death and despair.

 Soon these transformers learnt of each other and met up. They formed a group and a pact, that one day they would find a place where they could live in peace and get away from all the fighting.’

 Prime paused. ‘You fallowing so far?’

 Cheetor nodded silently. He had in fact grown quite transfixed with the story. Everything seemed so clear in his mind, and all too familiar.

 There was no doubt about it, the planet Prime was talking about just had to be Cybertron.

 ‘Well, what happened next?’ Cheetor asked abruptly, betraying his unyielding suspense.

 Just as Prime opened his mouth to continue, a loud beep emitted from Cheetor’s chest, fallowed instantly by loud static.

‘CHEETOR!’ an angry Optimus bellowed sharply through the static. ‘Cheetor, where are you now?’

 Prime rolled his eyes and coughed disapprovingly.

 Cheetor pulled a face and signalled him to be quiet.

 ‘Oh, hey Optimus. I was just doing a little extra surveillance and…’

 ‘I did not give you neither orders nor permission to be out there,’ Optimus cut in hotly. ‘You were supposed to be on computer surveillance over half an hour ago.’

 Optimus paused and breathed a deep, static sigh. ‘Look, I really don’t know what has gotten into you, Cheetor, but it ends here. Do you hear me?’

 ‘Now, I expect you back here on the double. We’ll sort this out later.’

 And after a bland beep, the com was silent once again.

‘Hmph, what’s cranking his shaft?’ Prime snorted coldly. ‘This Optimus guy sounds like a total jerk.’

 ‘No he isn’t!’ Cheetor justed. ‘He’s just, worried about me, that’s all. Look, he’s got a lot on his plate right now, but believe me, he cares a lot for us all. He’s just being protective.’ 

 ‘What ev,’ Prime muttered arrogantly. ‘But you know, there’s times when a bot’s gotta stand up for himself and do what he thinks is right, even if it means doing things his way for a change.’

 He shot Cheetor a stern frown. Then, without a word, leaped off into the thick brush.

 Cheetor watched with frustration. He wished he could stop him, but he knew there was no point. Prime wouldn’t be swayed so easily.

 Besides, he had other matters to worry about. 

 Right now the main thing that concerned Cheetor was how long he could keep his friendship with Prime a secret. He was starting to run out of excuses, and he was sure Optimus was beginning to grow suspicious; if he wasn’t so already.

****

‘I see you didn’t get lost coming back this time,’ Optimus stated coldly, narrowing his ruby optics at Cheetor. ‘Wouldn’t want the wolves to get you now, would we?’

 Cheetor almost choked as Optimus said this, a distant memory of Wolveron and the Wolf Pack suddenly all too clear in his mind.

 He shook his head meekly, staring at the ships metal floor.

 ‘Like I said before,’ Optimus continued, pacing around Cheetor. ‘It all ends now.’

 Cheetor nodded in the same meek fashion, still staring fixedly at the ground.

 ‘Do I make myself clear?’

 Optimus stepped abruptly in front of Cheetor, causing him to take a startled step backwards and look him in the optics.

 ‘Yes, sir,’ Cheetor replied dully, again averting his gaze back to the floor. He didn’t want to see Optimus right now; not when he was angry like this.

 ‘Very well. And to make sure you’ve been paying attention, you’re not to set foot out of ship until I see fit. If you need something, you are to inform me about it. Understood?’

 Another meek and silent nod was Cheetor’s only reply.

 ‘Good. Now join the others in the control room. I’ve got a hunch Megatron’s going to start planning something soon.’

Optimus’ premonition was frighteningly accurate.

 No sooner had Cheetor skulked into the control room, the secret link line exploded into a mass of tyrannical shouting and unruly arguing.

‘You mean to tell me that YOU, Predacons, are afraid of a few measly Maximals? BAH! DISGRACES!’ Megatron bellowed.

 ‘OH YEAH!’ Blackarachnia retorted fiercely. ‘And just how many of these recovery attempts have YOU attended, huh?’

 ‘YEAH!’ the other Predacons chorused.

 ‘Maybe you should get up off your high horse and try doing a day’s work. Then you’ll see how hard it is!’ Terrorsaur raged, his voice breaking slightly.

 The other Predacons seconded this with another chorused ‘YEAH!’.

 ‘And we’re not scared of em,’ Scorponok sounded. ‘We’ve been outnumbered six to five since those slaggin Earth Transformers joined the Maximals, and we’ve not complained yet…uh…until now.’

‘Charming,’ Airazor pouted.

 Rhinox and Tigatron exchanged silent smirks as they continued to listen intently.

‘GRR. Very well!’ Megatron snarled loudly, the sound of his fist slamming against his command chair clearly audible in the link. ‘If I have to hold your hands in battle just to get even a few measly scraps of energon, then so be it!’

‘Wow. Guess there is power in numbers,’ Rattrap chuckled. ‘Heh. If old Megs is flounderin’ over a coupla Preds, I’d hate to see what our fearless leader would do.’

 He burst into a laugh, and unfortunately, didn’t catch the frantic signals Cheetor, Rhinox, Airazor and Tigatron were displaying, trying to tell him that Optimus had already entered the room and was right behind him.

 ‘Hoo! Uh…hey, what’s the matter with you guys?’

‘Yeah, what is the matter with you guys?’ Optimus sounded from behind.

 ‘GA!?’ Rattrap choked, and whirred round, coming face to face with a less than happy Optimus.

 ‘Hello, Rattrap,’ Optimus stated dryly.

 Rattrap smiled weakly.

 ‘Heh. Uh, hello Optimus. I’m just gonna…um, sit over here now.’

 He pointed vaguely in the opposite direction and quickly set off to find a seat.

 Optimus watched after him, shaking his head slightly with disapproval.

 ‘So, any news?’

 ‘Yeah,’ Cheetor began enthusiastically. ‘The Preds are planning another energon retrieval. And get this, Megatron’s even going!’

 ‘SHH!!’ Rhinox shushed loudly, his head now close to the audio receiver. ‘Megatron’s got some new info on a hot energon spot.’

‘Alright, ALRIGHT!!’ Megatron boomed impatiently over a low wittering. ‘Now listen carefully. I have reliable sources telling me there is a mass bounty of energon yet to be uncovered. Even the Maximals have no idea of this wonderful little cache!’

 ‘And just where is this mystery cache?’ Tarantulas asked dubiously.

 ‘Ah, well I was just getting to that, Tarantulas,’ Megatron replied curtly, venom hanging in every word. ‘The computer has been picking up strong energon signatures from grid Gamma.’

‘Grid Gamma?’ Airazor mumbled to herself, still unfamiliar with the Maximal and Predacon way of gridding the planet.

 ‘Here,’ Rattrap whistled to her, bringing up a holographic map on the central command desk.

 ‘But Gamma’s just a wasteland!’ Cheetor cried. ‘And besides, we’ve never detected energon anywhere near there.’

 ‘Well, maybe our scanners just haven’t picked them up,’ Rattrap shrugged. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, Rhinox, the Pred’s computers are more advanced.’

‘I assure you, it IS there,’ Megatron sounded impatiently again, apparently faced with the same doubtfulness from the Predacons. ‘We just need to dig deeply.’

 Low muttering and calls of disbelief echoed through the link.

 ‘Hmm, very well,’ Megatron continued on a lighter note. ‘Stay if you want. None of you need come…unless you want your share.’

 He chuckled as the familiar sound of his Beast Mode transformation was heard, fallowed quickly by his swift, sprinting T-Rex stomps.

 The Predacons began an uproar; and soon the sound of frenzied transforming filled the link, fallowed closely by a stampede of running as the Predacons rushed frantically out of the room.

‘Those are our marching orders, Maximals,’ Optimus informed crisply. ‘Wasteland or not, we have to secure that area. Now let’s move!’

 The Maximals quickly began exiting the ship.

 ‘Ah-ah, Cheetor. You stay here,’ Optimus called, planting Cheetor down before he’d even stood up straight.

 ‘What!?’ Cheetor cried with alarm. ‘But Optimus, you need me out there!’

 ‘I wouldn’t exactly say that,’ Optimus glowered. ‘Lately you’ve become more of a liability. I’m sorry, Cheetor, but until you grow out of this ‘going awol’, you’re staying here.’

 Cheetor stared at Optimus in utter disbelief; a look of pure hurt and anguish on his face.

 It wasn’t fair. Optimus was treating him just like a little kid. If he only knew just how much he’d done to help them all…

 Cheetor clenched his fists and turned away in disgust.

 ‘Cheetor, please try to understand, I’m doing this for your own safety.’

He placed a gentler hand on Cheetor’s shoulder, which Cheetor instantly shrugged off.

‘Just go,’ he snapped.

 Optimus hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave.

 ‘We’ll keep in contact,’ he called as he exited the ship by the lift.

 As soon as he was gone, Cheetor punched the command desk with every ounce of rage and hate that was burning within him.

****

‘So, you think they bought it?’ Terrorsaur asked with a devious smirk.

  ‘OOO, definitely,’ Waspinator chirped happily, and began giggling childishly.

The Predacons had in fact never left the Darkside. On the contrary, they were just outside the ship; and easily out of the secret link’s reach.

 They’d been fully aware of the link for little more than a day. It was, oddly enough, Waspinator who first had the notion that the Maximals were somehow listening in on Predacon conversation. After being reassembled for the third time, you could say things just kind of clicked.

 That, and the response he’d got from the next battle after calling Rattrap’s mother a “Slag-rat” within the Predacon base, was more than enough proof to seal the suspicion.

‘I must admit though,’ Megatron mused loudly. ‘Those Earth Transformers are crafty, yes.’

‘They certainly are,’ Tarantulas muttered to himself, then chuckled and rubbed his small, spider forearms together. ‘They would make interesting specimens to study.’

‘But back to business,’ Megatron continued. ‘With the Maximals out on wild energon chase,’ he let out a cruel chuckle and twiddled his tiny claws, ‘this is the perfect opportunity to gain a very powerful tactical advantage. The Maximal ship is now completely unguarded. Gaining possession of it will be child’s play. That will leave them defenceless and baseless. And completely helpless.’

 ‘It can’t fail!’ Scorponok cried excitedly.

 ‘Hmm, I don’t know,’ Blackarachnia hummed dubiously. ‘Last I heard they were working on some sort of defence grid. What if Optimus has anticipated this?’

 ‘Then you give Optimus too much credit, my dear spider,’ Megatron replied coolly. ‘True, he’s no fool. I have no doubt he may have stationed someone to protect the base whilst they’re out. But he wouldn’t risk losing a battle over energon to us, no.’

 ‘You see, Blackarachnia, learn your enermies, and the war is already over.’

 He turned away arrogantly, leaving his back to face her as he addressed the other Predacons.

 Blackarachia grunted, and snarled disgruntledly under her breath. He really did make her mech-fluid boil.

 ‘Now, any more questions?’

  None arose.

 ‘Good. Now let us make haste. Those Maximals should be well clear of their ship by now.’

****

‘Hey Cheetor, how’s it going?’ Rhinox radioed to the Axalon.

  Cheetor blinked at the com for a nano, before processing who it was and that he should reply.

  ‘Huh? Rhinox? Oh sorry, I didn’t expect you. For a moment I thought you were…’

  ‘Optimus. Yeah, I know,’ Rhinox chuckled slightly as he replied.

 ‘Listen, he feels real bad about what happened earlier. You know he hates having to crack the whip.’

 ‘Yeah, I know,' Cheetor sighed. ‘So how’s the Pred hunt going?’

 ‘Well…not so great. We haven’t seen a trace of any of them anywhere. I mean, sure Gamma’s a big area, but you’d think they’d be easier to spot.’

 Cheetor nodded as he listened. He knew the Predacons weren’t ones to keep quiet, even if it was supposed to be a stealth mission.

Suddenly the computer alarm whirred loudly, practically frightening Cheetor out of his shell.

 ‘What the…?’ he muttered loudly, making his way to the central command desk .

 ‘Cheetor, what’s going on over there?’ Rhinox’s voice called from the link.

 ‘I dunno,’ Cheetor replied hastily. ‘Computer, report.’

 He hurriedly brought up the outside views onscreen the main computer as he gave the command.

 Six Predacon signatures detected within the ships main parameters.

 The computer brought up a holographic map of the ship’s surrounding area. Sure enough, there were six vivid green Predacon signatures present and moving closer to the ship.

 ‘Aw gimme a break!’ Cheetor wailed at the holograph.

 ‘Cheetor, hang on, I’ll get Optimus,’ Rhinox called anxiously; and within seconds Optimus was on the line.

 ‘Cheetor, can you hear me?’

  The line was quite static, but Cheetor could still hear him.

 ‘Yeah, I got you, Optimus.’

 ‘Good. Now what’s the situation?’

 ‘All six Predacons are heading straight for the ship. What do I do?’

  ‘Just calm down and listen,’ Optimus replied calmly. ‘Power up the ships defence shields. They’ll keep you safe till we get there. Just sit tight and don’t move out of the ship, got that?’

 ‘Just power up the shields, got it,’ Cheetor repeated quickly. ‘Hey wait, wouldn’t the auto-guns be better?’

 ‘Cheetor, my main priority is to make sure you’re safe. I don’t want you wasting any power on the ships weaponry if there’s a chance the Predacons will get through.’

‘But Optimus, how long can the shields take a full scale assault?’

 ‘The shields will hold till we get there, just trust me on that.’

 After that the com was silent.

‘Ok, here we go,’ Cheetor gulped to himself, as he prepared to type in the commands.

Outside the ship, however, Megatron wasn’t in a hesitant mood.

 ‘There it is, Predacons!’ he shouted, and quickly Terrorised. ‘Tarantulas, Blackarachnia, go up ahead and see if there’s any defence shields. The rest of you, stay alert; there may still be Maximals inside.’

 The two spiders scuttled silently closer to the Axalon. The remaining Predacons transformed and watched them keenly.

 Blackarachnia was the first to reach the ship. She looked the solid metal body over cautiously. There didn’t seem to be any sign of a shield. And she couldn’t feel any excess heat, or hear the sound of pulsing energon that is usually omitted when a shield is active.

 ‘Knock knock,’ she sang, banging one of her slender legs against the heavy metal structure. A slight echo emitted, apart from which nothing else happened.

 ‘It appears Megatron was right,’ Tarantulas remarked dryly, and quickly transformed to better examine the ship.

 Unbeknownst to him, at that exact same moment, Cheetor had activated the ships shields. And before Tarantulas could lay a clawed hand on the ship, he was overcome by a hideously painful energon shock. It spread all through him; an agonisingly hot burning sensation. He couldn’t muster the control to pull his clawed arm away, he just kept getting hotter and hotter. He was overheating, he felt as though he would explode at any minute.

 Thankfully (though Tarantulas may have chosen other words) the shields energon built up, causing a mini blast which sent Tarantulas flying clear of the ship.

 ‘Then again, maybe not,’ Blackarachnia cackled cruelly as Tarantulas hit the ground with a loud thud.

 ‘Hmm, the shield’s only just been activated,’ Megatron mused, half to himself, half to the rest of the Predacons. ‘There must be a Maximal inside.’

 ‘Well, let’s flush em out,’ Terrorsaur screeched excitedly. ‘Judging by that shield, it wouldn’t be too much trouble.’

 The other Predacons seemed to take note of this. The shield was in fact rather weak; the dull, glitchy green aura it was emitting clearly showed this. It would most likely only take a few full-ammoed rounds before it failed completely.

 ‘Ah, very well,’ Megatron addressed his crew with a broad smile. ‘Open fire with everything you have!’

Inside the Axalon, Cheetor felt every impounding blow the shields took. He was jostled and jolted all over the command room.

 ‘This is insane,’ he grunted to himself after hitting the ship’s metal floor hard. ‘There’s no way the shields are gonna hold. I just need something to hold em off till Optimus and the others get here.’

 Cheetor glanced over to the control desk; an idea quickly formulating inside his head. If he could somehow use just a little of the shields power to power-up a couple of auto-guns, he could protect the ship and have some cover while he went outside and fended off the Predacons…

 However, Cheetor quickly found himself remembering Optimus’ orders;

 Power up the defence shields and sit tight.

  What would Optimus think of him if he couldn’t even fallow a simple order to save his neck?

 Then again, what would the point be if the Predacons broke through the shields whilst he was ‘sitting tight’ and fallowing orders?

 But Optimus could come any second, so he was better just staying put…

 But what if he didn’t. Then he was a sitting duck.

 What do I do? he thought hastily to himself.

 A heavy rumble snapped Cheetor out of his thoughts. He’d made up his mind.

 ‘Computer, power status report.’

 Shields currently using all potential power. Power level down to seventy percent. Shield level holding at eighty percent.

 Cheetor began typing feverishly at the control desk.

 ‘Re-route thirty percent of power to auto-guns.’

 Acknowledged. Three auto guns online.

 ‘Good. Now just hold it there and keep the status report running to me.’

 Cheetor pulled out his quasar cannon.

 ‘Party time,’ he smirked, locking and loading the gun, and made for the lift.

 ***

Cheetor snuck carefully out of the lift hatch. Only the thin shell of green was protecting him from the vicious onslaught of missiles and lasers.

 ‘Auto-guns, lock on Predacon frequencies,’ Cheetor whispered.

  Locking on.

 ‘Ok. Computer, what’s the shield status report?’

 Shields holding at fifty percent.

 ‘Yikes, gotta move,’ Cheetor told himself. ‘Computer, create open patches in the shields around the auto guns, just big enough for the shots to get through.’

  Acknowledged. Auto-guns ready. Creating shield patch for auto-guns one, two and three.

   The auto-guns whirred loudly, moving gingerly as they positioned themselves to open fire. When they finally had locked into position, they fired with somewhat unexpected force. The gun heads would thrust backwards under the force of each shot, then automatically move back into position and fire again.

And to Cheetor’s surprise, it seemed to be working.

The Predacons began to flail under the gunshot, taking cover behind mounds of small rock.

 ‘Stand your ground!’ Megatron barked. ‘It’s only one measly Maximal and three auto-guns!!’

 He furiously began hammering at the Axalon with his T-Rex headed laser. The Predacons quickly picked up on his reasoning, and soon the purple beam was accompanied by mega missiles, streams of bullets and lasers to boot.

‘Ugh, slag!!’ Cheetor cursed, trembling slightly as the shields took another heavy pounding. ‘Computer, shield status report.’

 Shield dropping at thirty percent.

 ‘Oh…PRIMUS!!’ Cheetor fumed, kicking the ship. Now he’d done it. The shield probably wouldn’t last another two clicks and Optimus still wasn’t here.

 The auto-guns droned and soon stopped firing, withdrawing backwards and hanging down low. The shield began the flicker, a sure sign it was beginning to fail.

 ‘That’s it!’ Megatron cried triumphantly. ‘Predacons, hold your fire. I don’t want the ship damaged, no. Save that for the little runt inside, yes.’

Cheetor watched mournfully as the shield gave a final flicker before completely fading away. He could have easily ran, but he’d never forgive himself for it if he ever lived; giving them the Axalon without a fight. No, if he was going down, he was going to do it fighting; the way a real Maximal would.

 Cheetor took a deep breath and clenched his weapon. This was it.

 He walked up the slight mound he’d taken cover in, slowly at first, but gradually hastening. Soon he was in full view of the Predacons.

 ‘Running to your doom?’ Megatron sounded with a wry smile. ‘A somewhat strange, but admirable way to spend your last moments. At least now you shan’t be branded a coward in the face of death. Now, let’s seal it!’

 ‘With pleasure,’ Terrorsaur chuckled from behind, and hastily lifted off the ground, rapidly gaining speed as he darted towards Cheetor. The other Predacons fallowed in hot pursuit, leaving Megatron behind to watch.

‘You want me? Eat some of this first!’ Cheetor yelled, and fired his quasar cannon at the mob of swarming Predacons.

 Terrorsaur cackled menacingly as he dodged the shots in mid-flight, swiftly narrowing the gap between him and Cheetor.

 Cheetor raised his aim, and miraculously landed a clean hit on Terrorsaur, who on second glance had been no more than a few meters in front of him.

 Terrorsaur flew far back with a sharp cry, before giving a choked grunt as he landed awkwardly on his back with both feet suspended in the air.

 But no sooner was Terrorsaur down, before Cheetor took a heavy hit from one of Scorponok’s mega missiles. As he reeled backwards, Waspinator nimbly landed a loaded stinger straight into Cheetor’s abdomen. It penetrated right through his armour and lodged itself at least halfway into him.

 Cheetor winced and cried out sharply. He fell to his knees clutching his waist, the protruding stinger between his arms beginning to burn feverishly.

 Tarantulas’s cruel cackling filled his audios, as both he and Blackarachnia neared him and fired their twin sided machine guns.

 Every shot was pure agony. The rounds ripped into Cheetor like sharp scythes.

 Cheetor’s brow furred as he winced harder, trying to stifle his screams and cries. He could feel his own mech- fluid trickling all over him; spouting from every hole Tarantulas and Blackarachnia tore into his body.

 It was too much. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

 ‘OPTIMUS!!’ he cried loudly. ‘PLEASE HELP ME!!’

 Within seconds of his final plea, Cheetor was struck down by another of Scorponok’s mega missiles.

 He fell forward, his body collapsing onto the ground. His face pounded the earthy soil with one cheek, his arms still clenching at his waist; the only thing keeping the embedded stinger from ripping even further into him.  

 He panted and gasped heavily. There was a minor ceasefire and all was quiet. The only noise he could hear was his own anguished suffering. By now he was on a plain of pain he didn’t even know existed. Every part of him stung and burnt. Hot tears welled in his optics, but he refused to shed them.

 Then suddenly, his chest tightened with an awful, wrenching twist. He struggled as he panicked to find his arms to support him, already knowing what was coming.

 With all the strength he could muster, he desperately tried to pull himself up. Trembling with pain, his body shakily and slowly obeyed.

 He began to breathe heavily and deeply as he stared at the ground, before giving an exhausted cough and vomiting a pool of burning mech-fluid onto the ground.

 It was an excruciating experience. His whole body churned and trembled uncontrollably. It only got worse as he began to cough, bringing up even more of the acidic mech-fluid and creating an even bigger  strain on his already dangerously weakened systems.

‘Finish him now!’ Megatron shouted from behind the five Predacons.

  ‘Game over, pussy-cat!’ Tarantulas cried shrilly and lunged at Cheetor.

 Cheetor glanced up woodenly, then turned his head away and gritted his teeth.

A loud, heckled snarl filled the area, alerting and stopping the other Predacons- except Tarantulas.

 Just as he was nearly upon Cheetor, he felt something sharp grip onto his right arm. He jerked to a halt, frantically whirring around to see what had stopped him.

 But he was too slow. Within a split-second, a sickening, grinding rip rang out, and Tarantulas tossed his head back and howled with pain. His right arm had just been snapped jaggedly off at the shoulder joint.

  Tarantulas staggered backwards and glared with contempt at his attacker.

‘You again!?’ he snarled, clutching at his right shoulder.

 Just in front of Cheetor loomed a great, hulking, golden dragon; a creature Tarantulas had already made the acquaintance of. It was, of course, no other than Prime.

 Prime wore a sly, snarling grin. In his long, protruding snout hung the remains of Tarantulas’ right arm.

The other Predacons stared in horror at the creature in front of them; no-one daring to utter a word.

 Terrorsaur wobbly sat up, aroused by the commotion but still dazed from Cheetor’s quasar cannon blast. He peered around dreamily, then started and quickly joined the others in dropping his jaw and staring fixedly in front of himself with wide optics.

 Megatron watched everything intently from the back; unseen by Prime. He was already captivated by this creature, and rather wanted to see how this turned out.

Prime suddenly grunted, and spat the limp arm out of his mouth. It landed with a heavy clunk, which seemed to ring all over the battle field.

 He turned again to face Tarantulas, his snout now stained with deep, red mech-fluid from the scrap arm. His azure eyes glistened, as they locked onto Tarantulas’ cold, narrowed optics, and he gave an unimpressed snort of grey smoke from his flared nostrils.

 ‘You’ll pay for that,’ Tarantulas hissed.

 ‘Ooo, I’m shaking,’ Prime sneered with a cruel smirk.

Cheetor’s audios twitched as he heard Prime’s voice, then it dawned on him that he was still alive and functioning. He opened his optics and gingerly turned around.

‘Prime, that you?’ he croaked.

‘Yeah, me again,’ Prime replied with a chuckle, flashing Cheetor a warm smile. ‘What’s say I take it from here?’

 Cheetor returned a faint smile and nodded.

 ‘Oh, how touching. But don’t you think you’re forgetting something?’ Tarantulas seethed with a manic cackle, directing the two’s attention. Before Prime had even turned round, Tarantulas began to open fire on both him and Cheetor.

Prime quickly spread his wings to protect Cheetor. The bullets struck all over his scaly body, stinging slightly as they hit. But he showed no sign of wearing.

  A rogue bullet tore past his face and drew blood. Prime winced with a snarl, then dabbed at the spot with one of his razor-like claws and looked at it.

‘That’s it,’ he snarled. ‘Now I’m pissed!’

And without warning, Prime darted at Tarantulas and slashed through his armour with one swift swipe of his scythed claws.

 Tarantulas let out a shrill scream. Metal and mech-fluid flew in all directions. Bloody wires and circuitry were exposed through the large, gaping gash.

 Prime slashed at him again with an angry roar, flinging him across the ground.

 Tarantulas grunted as he skidded bumpily across the earthy soil. He finally stopped and lay motionless on the ground, the only signs of life being his frantic gasps for breath.

The sound of weapons clicking and locking caused Prime’s webbed ears to twitch. Swerving around, he found the other Predacons aiming their weapons straight at him.

 Prime stood his ground, heckling fiercely as he eyed them.

 ‘Prime,’ Cheetor cried weakly from behind him. ‘Get out of here. There’s too many of them.’

 ‘Hey, we’re in this together now,’ Prime replied gruffly. ‘Besides,’ he smirked, ‘I never got to finish that story I started telling you about earlier.’

 Cheetor looked up to him with watery optics. Why did he have to say that?

Suddenly Prime let out a sharp cry. Waspinator had shot another loaded stinger, this one embedding itself straight into Prime’s long, sleek neck.

 ‘Prime!’ Cheetor cried in horror.

 Prime roared furiously and stumbled back. He eyed the four Predacons furiously, squinting one eye as the pain began to intensify.

  Waspinator laughed hysterically as he, Blackarachnia, Scorponk and Terrorsaur moved in for the kill.

 Prime gripped the embedded stinger with a claw, and gave a sharp tug. He let out a loud gasp as the stinger slid smoothly out of his scaled neck. He threw it on the ground, wheezing and panting, and braced himself for battle.

‘There they are!’ Airazor cried from above.

 The Predacons stopped and stared up. The sound of a jet-pack coming closer echoed all over the battlefield, instantly lifting Cheetor’s spirits. Optimus was finally here.

Megatron stared up with a growl.

 ‘Blasted Maximals,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Just when it was beginning to get interesting too. Why do they have to ruin everything?’

‘Prime,’ Cheetor heaved with relief. ‘The others are coming. Everything’s gonna be ok.’

  He smiled weakly, looking up to him. ‘You can go now, I’ll be safe.’

 Prime looked down to him mournfully, his webbed ears drooping slightly. He knew he shouldn’t leave him, and he truly didn’t want to. But something deep inside of him kept nagging at him, telling him to go now, before they came.

 He bent down and tilted Cheetor’s head with his clawed hand and looked him in the optics.

 ‘Take care of yourself, kid,’ he whispered with a small smile, rubbing the top of Cheetor’s helm gently with his other clawed hand.

 He then got down on all fours and galloped off in the other direction, away from the battlefield.

 Way up in the sky, Airazor’s keen optics had caught sight of Prime. She hummed to herself uneasily and shook her head.

‘Maximals, full frontal assault!’ Optimus called from above, making his appearance from behind the Axalon.

 Almost instantly, the other Maximals came running over the slight slope Cheetor had previously ran over.

 Quickly realising what was happening, and that Prime had disappeared, the Predacons began a desperate return-fire. But alas, the Maximals weren’t to be beaten. Using the mound to their advantage, they were able to fire down on the Predacons and easily avoid the return-fire.

‘Slag, we can’t even hit them!’ Blackarachnia grunted, taking cover behind a rock mound.

‘Hey, Grapeface!’ she yelled to Megatron, ‘we getting out of here or what?’

Megatron had since joined in the return-fire, but even his efforts couldn’t help them now. The battle was spiralling downhill and there seemed to be little hope of capturing the Maximal ship now. It all seemed like nothing more than a wasted venture, and that blasted creature who had halted his brilliant scheme wasn’t even here to finish what he’d started.

 He seethed this bitterly to himself. It was futile to continue. They were already outnumbered, and with Tarantulas down things would only get worse.

He grunted loudly.

‘RETREAT BACK TO THE SHIP!’ he finally blasted, sounding sickened and disgusted.

 ‘And Scorponok, gather up Tarantulas.’

 Scorponok roughly grabbed Tarantulas and threw him over his shoulder. He then quickly joined the other Predacons in a hasty retreat.

When the last Predacon was out of sight, the Maximals hurriedly gathered around Cheetor.

 Optimus touched down next to Cheetor, and looked down at him, his optics scanning over the injured Maximal.

 Cheetor sat hunched on his knees, his arms still wrapped around his waist with the stinger poking out between them. He kept his head low, not daring to even glance at Optimus. He knew Optimus was angry with him, no matter how badly injured he was.

 ‘How is he?’ Optimus asked Rhinox plainly.

 ‘Pretty banged up,’ Rhinox replied, shaking his head. ‘He’s leaking mech everywhere, and I don’t even want to touch that that stinger till he’s back inside.’

 ‘But he’s going to pull through,’ Optimus remarked, in the same plain, uncaring tone.

 He walked over to Cheetor, Rattrap and Tigatron moving out of his way, and stopped so that he was right in front of him. He said nothing, but it was clear from his stance and body language that he was neither happy nor relieved to see Cheetor.

‘Why?’ he sighed gently, breaking the dense silence that filled the air. ‘Why didn’t you listen to me?’

 ‘Because…’ Cheetor began hoarsely, glancing up to Optimus. ‘Because I thought I could handle things myself.’

 He lowered his head again and stared in front of him.

 ‘Cheetor, this could’ve all been prevented if you only-’

 ‘No,’ Cheetor cut in raspily. ‘No it couldn’t have.’

 The other Maximals turned to each other with disbelief. Was Cheetor actually going against Optimus now, after everything that had just happened?

 Optimus thought the exact same thing. He folded his arms, as if prompting some sort of explanation.

 ‘The shield would’ve still cut out, and you still wouldn’t have been here.’ Cheetor stared up to Optimus, and suddenly felt stronger. ‘You’re way may have protected me longer, but in the end, it wouldn’t have changed anything.’

  Optimus blinked at him, and opened his mouth; but nothing came out. He was completely taken aback by what Cheetor had just said.

 Closing his optics and taking a breath, a small smile formed on his mouth.

 ‘For once, I think you’ve taught me something,’ he said with slight laugh. ‘I’ve been too busy trying to protect you, I haven’t seen how much you’ve grown as a person.

‘I’m sorry Cheetor. Please, try to forgive me for that. From now on, I’ll try to let you be more independent, and let you do things your way.’

 Cheetor beamed back to Optimus, and then it suddenly dawned on him. It was just like Prime had said.

 ‘Now come on,’ Optimus smiled. ‘Let’s get you patched up.’

***

The next morning, life returned pretty much back to normal. Well, normal by  Maximal standards.

 As expected, the secret link was now useless. The Predacons had quickly conjured up a jamming device for their ship to prevent any such accidents occurring again.

‘Meh, it was getting boring anyway,’ Rattrap shrugged, lying back in his computer post chair. ‘I mean, I’m into easy. But when you know everything before it happens, it just takes away all the fun in life.’

 Rhinox and Optimus chuckled to themselves.

 ‘Speaking of which,’ Rhinox rang. ‘I don’t see our boy anywhere.’

 ‘Now Rhinox,’ Optimus pretended to chide. ‘Don’t jump to any conclusions. I’m sure he’s got a perfectly good explanation…it’s just he hasn’t thought it up yet.’

 Rattrap whooped behind him and Rhinox began a bout of laughter.

 Optimus just stood quietly with a smile.

  I wonder what it’ll be this time? he thought to himself with a chuckle.

***

As expected Cheetor was out and about in the forest. He was looking for Prime, but hadn’t yet seen any trace of him.

 I hope he’s ok, Cheetor thought worriedly to himself, as he remembered the countless rounds Prime took for him in yesterday’s battle.

However, on near arrival of their formal meeting spot, Cheetor’s ears twitched to a guzzling, munching noise. Fallowing the noise, Cheetor soon found the giant dragon stuffing his face with all kinds of different fruit.

 He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

 Prime overheard Cheetor’s laughter and promptly swallowed whole whatever it was he was chewing.

‘CHEETOR!’ he cried with a broad smile, and rushed over to the spotted feline and wrapped his large claws around him into a tight bear-hug.

 ‘You’re ok. Oh, I’m so glad!’ he continued, tightening his grip and nuzzling Cheetor warmly.

 ‘Yeah…thanks,’ Cheetor wheezed, finding it uncomfortably hard to breathe. He quickly wriggled free and landed on the ground, gasping to catch his breath.

 Prime shoved what looked like a red apple into his mouth whole and swallowed it hard.

 Cheetor stared at him as he ate.

 ‘Oh, want one?’ Prime mumbled with his mouth full, and held out one of the ripe, juicy apples.

 ‘Uh…I don’t know…’ Cheetor replied uneasily, looking at the plump red sphere. He knew Rattrap sometimes ate them, but for some reason Optimus didn’t like it when he did.

  ‘Come on, it’s good for you,’ Prime insisted. ‘Makes you heal faster when you’re hurt. And I bet it’s a damn site nicer than the junk you eat.’

  Cheetor raised a brow at him, then grasped at the apple with a paw. Looking at it’s smooth surface, he sniffed at it, then slowly took a bite.

 ‘Mmm,’ he mumbled as he chewed. It was sweet and juicy, but at the same time tangy and sharp. In short, nothing he’d ever tasted before in his life.

 He took another, larger bite. It really was better than any energon he’d ever tasted.

 ‘See, now what’d I tell you?’ Prime beamed. ‘Better than nuts and bolts, or whatever it is you guys eat.’

 Cheetor snorted with laughter. Prime really didn’t have a clue about Cybertronnians.

 ‘Energon. We eat energon. Or at least we fuel up on it.’

 ‘Fuel up?’ Prime snorted. ‘What are you, some kind of car or something?’

 ‘I used to be,’ Cheetor smirked.

 Prime went deadly quiet and stared at him. ‘You serious?’

 Cheetor nodded.

 ‘Man, you guys are weird.’

 ‘Well you can’t talk,’ Cheetor jeered. ‘What’s with all this changing Beast Modes?’

 ‘Hey, for your information, bub,’ Prime started, poking Cheetor in the chest. ‘It’s called a Transmorph.’

 ‘Ok…and how does it work?’ Cheetor asked sceptically.

 ‘It’s not a toy,’ Prime replied seriously. ‘It takes a lot of hard work to master. One time, when I first started using it, I got stuck this way for a week!’

 ‘And before you say anything, no you can’t do it. It can only happen to those whose Spark has grown to the next level.’

 Cheetor wondered if he should even dare to ask what that meant.

 ‘It basically means when your Spark’s grown so strong it creates a new, stronger form to help contain it’s power,’ Prime explained, seeing Cheetor’s unease.

 ‘But it’s a big responsibility, and nobody should ever push themselves to reach it. It happened to me because I trained properly and kept winning my battles, so naturally me and my Spark kept getting stronger, but also because I grew ready to handle this kind of power.’

Cheetor thought to himself. A spark can really evolve and create new forms? He bet Rhinox didn’t even know that. Then again, how could he? Nothing like that had ever been reported back on Cybertron.

Well, except for one case…

 A horrific attempt to clone Starscream’s spark. The result was more twisted than the experiment itself.

 Or so Cheetor had heard.

 He never actually saw the result. The only thing he did know of the experiment was it’s protocol name: Protoform X.

Cheetor remembered all the reports about it. How this monster of a transformer devoured helpless victims’ Sparks without even a second thought.

 And the chilling story of the Omicron colony. It was alleged that every transformer there was killed in a brutal attack by Protoform X. When they came to identify the bodies, some were just too mutilated to distinguish.

 But the one thing each victim shared was the method of death. For on close inspection, each of their Sparks had in fact been ripped out at the core. Not a single Spark was ever found, adding to the chilling theory that every one was consumed by the savage Protoform X.

Cheetor shuddered. The way Prime had attacked Tarantulas; was it really so different? He’d never seen Prime act so aggressive before.

More questions needed to be answered, but he wasn’t sure he was the right Maximal to ask them.

‘Prime,’ Cheetor began, his tone deadly serious. ‘I need you to do something for me. Please, will you do it?’

 Prime looked at him with concern. Cheetor had never asked Prime for anything before, at least not like this.

 ‘Of course, I will Cheetor,’ he replied gently. ‘What is it?’

Cheetor took a deep breath.

‘Prime, please…will you meet the other Maximals? Will you do me just this one favour?’

 Prime stared back at him, the expression undistinguishable. He looked somewhat troubled, and very worried; another side of him Cheetor hadn’t seen before. He averted his gaze and stared at the ground.

 A promise is a promise, and his word is his word.

‘Yes,’ he whispered quietly. ‘I will meet them.’