Shades of Grey, part 1

Beast Wars Anonymous:

Beast Wars and all related belong to Hasbro. The story, its original contents and ideas, and any original characters belong to the author and cannot be used or reprinted without the author's permission.

Shades of Grey, pt. 1 (PG)
by BluePard (bluepard@buffnet.net)

Panthera remembered the Terror Trio HQ, from the past, now and always existing only in a computer's memory banks, and the memory banks of those who had lived there. It was strangely casual for a military base, though it was clean and efficient personal items were everywhere. Panthera leaned back in her chair but looked up as the base rocked, under attack. Her second in command, Cato, ran in but Panthera did not acknowledge her until she finished the "Top Ten Quickest Ways to Get Yourself Killed" (most of which featured her).

"Yes?" she said, looking up.

"We are under attack by the Beryl Brigade. Outnumbered by at least ten."

"Leader?"

Cato rolled her eyes while four others joined the huddle, "Beryl, duh."

"Not the Beryl I ran up a flagpole?" Cato nodded. "How'd that jerk ever get so many fighters?"

Cato shrugged, "Brawn and intimidation."

"Ahhh... perfecta mundo. All right, standard gamma formation, Cato, you're in charge."

"Me? Where'll you be?"

"Taking out Beryl personally. The whole team will probably surrender the second he and his top two are done in." She flashed that wicked smile of hers, receiving several "you know this means trouble- for them" smiles in return.

"And if they don't?"

"Why wouldn't they? We are the most happening team around!"

Patroclus grinned, "Ain't it the truth."

"All right, for the good of Proximis and the glory of us! Break!"

Panthera crept under the brush in robot mode and looked very silly doing it. Her belly was just high enough so as not to disturb the grass. Her eyes were fixed with a cat's glazed-over pounce stare, their focus- a chickadee's nest and the bird sitting on it.

She was within a foot of the bird and moving only centimeters at long intervals, "Yeah, he was destined for the Proxian fleet and something like crumbling under pain would have ruined his reputation. Didn't get in trouble for it anyway, everyone thought it was just me being bloodthirsty again. I wonder if Finagle and Pattie picked up on that."

Inches away from the bird, she struggled to bring her arms up millimeter by millimeter without them shaking, "I doubt Finagle did, she was too angry at me for not warning her to close her eyes before slicing him open; she had nightmares for weeks. Patroclus seems too dumb to pick up on that sort of stuff, but he has his moments."

Her black hands reached out from the shadows like something from a horror movie. She grabbed the bird off its roost in one swift, silent motion. The bird chirped for its life, while Panthera purred softly, then spoke in exactly the same low tone.

"Don't worry, shushh... shhh...." She waited and purred until the fragile heartbeat beneath her fingertips calmed. She smiled close-mouthed at it.

"I just wanted to see if I could do it." And she let it go.

Dinobot was on patrol at the borders. He allowed his mind to wander slightly, leaving his body on auto, for he had patrolled this area many times before. He hissed with annoyance; he hadn't gotten in a fight with Rattrap all week. Rattrap was too busy between his duties and watching his back to make more than a few snide remarks, and every time he did Panthera made him pay for it. It was Panthera he was thinking about. At least the Maximals were somewhat predictable, Panthera never was.

"Proxians don't act like us, don't think like us, and don't make the slightest bit of sense. Therefore, you must always keep your guard up around them, no matter how bigger or better a warrior you may be."

That was all he had heard of Proxians, besides that they were homebodies and neutral. Reflecting on it, he hissed again. He was not bigger than Panthera, well, not by much. Perhaps two inches taller in robot form, and she was larger in beast mode. As for being a better warrior, Dinobot had no idea. He was somehow sure that Panthera would never fight him as a robot; she would insist on beast form and most likely win, that being his weaker form. Even if he managed a fight in robot mode he could not be sure of success. He had no idea of Panthera's capabilities there; indeed, he had known her for months before seeing her robot form. Another oddity, that someone should spend more time in an acquired form than in their natural one. Outside it made sense, now that he knew how short a time she had until she received energon surges... still, she always wore it in the base, where that didn't matter. He shook his head. Just like he had heard; it made no sense. He turned quickly at a noise- only to see a cottontail's behind vanish. He continued his train of thought.

She was not a person he liked, to say the least. She seemed completely oblivious to him, never insulting him or threatening him, refusing to acknowledge his existence except for the time she drained his energon. The pain was great but quick, and since it seemed she really didn't have his index codes he had forgotten it. But still, another piece of the puzzle laid there. He had been attacked when he was in beast form, his weaker one. So had everyone else... except Rhinox. He wondered if that was just coincidence or done on purpose. Even without his index codes, a simple look in Panthera's yellow eyes told him that she knew his faults, and doubtlessly everyone else's. He tried to imagine the panther taking on Rhinox as a rhino, but it didn't seem likely to him.

That, however, was not what led him onto this train of thought. He wondered why he was not a victim of Panthera's odd humor. She had attacked Optimus' decisions, Cheetor's good nature, Tigatron's peacefulness, Airazor's loyalty, Rhinox's intelligence and Rattrap's ... well, his everything. Still, she had not called him Chopperface in his memory, picking fights with everyone except the one who wanted to fight.

"Perhapsss..." he hissed, nearly cutting his tongue on his sharp teeth, " ...perhapsss she does not want to fight."

He considered that a moment.

"Or perhaps this is the best way for her to drive me insane."

Tarantulus typed furiously at his computer terminal within his lair. He pressed another few keys, saved his work, and sighed. Months and months, finally he had been able to undo the damage done when Panthera destroyed the Predacon computer... it had been directly linked to his own at the time, wiping his own files clean. He hadn't made a backup, fearing that one of his less than trustworthy companions should find it- he had to retype it from memory. And with every line of mind-warping code he cursed Panthera. He was old enough to remember a Proxian he met on his first assignment; he doubtlessly knew more about them than any of the Predacons. On some leader mission, a young Proxian fresh out of training... Fearlight, yes, that was her name. A trustworthy Proxian, up to that point he wasn't aware any existed. She was extremely loyal, shouting in praise of Proximis as she arose each night. A night worker.. he wasn't too sure what that meant, except that she was nocturnal. He gathered that not all Proxians were, though he couldn't understand how they managed if not everyone was awake at the same time. She had been somewhat annoying, a bit too cheerful, a bit too quick to call him Hyenaboy and mock him, smiling. But she never caused him any harm, leading him to believe Proxian abilities were overrated.. until Panthera came along.

Yes, perhaps if he had not thought he knew Proxians so well Panthera might have been caught in one of his webs. He was happy to recall that Fearlight's ship was eventually lost, and that she had gone insane, killing all her comrades, found crying in a pool of mech fluid... he giggled to himself at the thought. Oh, no doubt everyone here thought him insane, but that served his purposes so he didn't dispute it. One too many lines of code.. he giggled again. One too many screams fell beneath his many eyes... he giggled again. One too many Proxians, one too many Pantheras, one to many nights alone in the cruel darkness... he giggled again, and again, and again....

Rhinox was alone at the main computer console. Everyone had disappeared today, leaving him repairing bugs.. but his mind kept wandering. Panthera usually left him alone, he was to hard to psyche out, like Tigatron in that respect. He would get angry at her constant attacks on everyone around him, but he knew better than to challenge Panthera. It was as he told Dinobot at one point; if there was a fight either Panthera would win one on one and let the person go, as she always had, or, if she was in danger of losing, the fight might turn serious and really hurt someone. So, though he hated to do so, he sat and watched while Panthera tormented, up to a point, anyway. And though he sorely wished in an angry moment to strangle the panther and get the whole story on Tigatron's death, he gritted his teeth and talked himself out of it. One by one he caught glances in his direction, and he was sure that his cool exertion calmed the others down a bit. He knew he was the backbone of the team, so he could only feel thankful that he was so practiced at stress management. But this morning Panthera had managed to anger him despite it.

"Who took my energon disrupter?" he had asked. He had not checked on it for weeks, maybe months, and now that he needed it it was gone. "Well?"

Panthera was looking curt in a corner. As usual, she assumed general questions were not directed at her. "Panthera, have you seen it?"

"What, the purple one?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I took it."

Rhinox carefully told himself that she wanted him to get mad, and politely asked her if he could have it back, as though he wasn't the one who put in long hours scraping it together.

"No."

"What?"

"I don't want to give it back."

Rhinox stared at Panthera, his anger showing this time. Optimus stepped in between long enough for him to recover his emotions.

"Panthera, it belongs to Rhinox, he scraped together the parts, he created it; give it back."

"No."

Rhinox stood up and stepped next to Optimus. She wasn't even trying to be annoying, it seemed.

"The disrupter is mine. What are you going to use it for?"

"I don't want to tell you."

Well, at least she was speaking directly, and not her usual twisted truth.

"Panthera, whether you like it or not you're a part of this team, and when you hurt the team you hurt yourself. I doubt you've got better uses for that part than I do."

"I believe I do. And my use of it may help 'the team', provided it works."

Optimus was looked skyward, "Then why not just tell us what it's for?"

"Because," and she stated the next words slowly as though they were foreign to the language, "I don't want to."

His anger flared up again, "You can't have everything you want, I don't care if you are Ms. Hotshot Proxian." He walked up to her and bent down just enough to force her to look up into his eyes, "You are not in charge here. You are not second in command, you are not third in command, and as far as I know you have no rank at all! Show some respect to those who are constantly saving your furry black tail, which includes giving us the time of day!"

Panthera blinked twice, letting the air hang. "No. I don't have to, you can't make me, and you know it. I am not afraid of your threats, and I am not under your command. Give me a Proxian who outranks me, then I'll care."

Rhinox shook his head in disbelief at the calm, composed, defying panther. Unconsciously his fingertips reached out until they were inches from her neck, but she didn't blink. She kept her deep golden eyes right on his, right through his, he could swear. The sudden image flashed to him that his index codes must be stapled to his forehead, and that she was skimming down them to find the most amusing way to kill him. And by the time he came back from that thought Panthera was some feet away, looking over her shoulder at him, suddenly releasing him from her bewitching gaze and slinking off, wordlessly. He was making some noises akin to growling, and he suddenly realized his hands were still up to choke her. He watched as they clenched into fists. A slight pain in his back told him he had been crouching too long, and he straightened himself. He muttered a few things under his breath and turned to find his seat again, noticing that all eyes were on him.

"What, and you wouldn't be aggravated?" he nearly shouted, storming out of the control room to collect himself.

Rhinox sighed a little at that memory. He was the most experienced of any of them, he should have known better than that. And, just as quickly, he told himself it was not his fault, he couldn't be expected to respond... or expected not to respond to everything.

Waspinator buzzed around, humming to himself. He was not a happy bug. Megatron had been in a bad mood this morning; Inferno had not come back. Waspinator had been closest to where Inferno had been patrolling, and he took the brunt of it.

"Not az though Wazzpintor not used to it." he buzzed, "Wazzpinator alwayzz picked on. Wazzpinator deservezz better. Wazzpinator loyal Predacon. Wazzpinator not like panther-bot. Panther-bot hurt Wazzpinator straight out of staziz pod."

He pouted in pity at his first recollection of Panthera: her slicing him to bits as she escaped the Predacon base. He had been outside the Abyss the whole time, keeping watch, completely innocent, and that evil Proxian had hurt him. It took him days in the R pool to recover.

"Panther-bot make fun of Wazzpinator. She laugh at Wazzpinator." he buzzed, not realizing or caring that their was a difference between Panthera and her clone, "She shoot down Wazzpinator, hurt Wazzpinator, make Megatron mad at good Wazzpinator. Panther-bot bad."

And, in his mind, that was all there was to it.

Airazor soared majestically over the fields, allowing a warm updraft here and there to keep her up, letting one part of her mind adjust to meet the currents and left the rest to herself. She ought to keep a lookout, she knew, but her mind always drifted. From up here she could see the mountain, the mountain where Tigatron fell. Part of her wanted the complete story, so that she could sift it for the slightest chance that he might still live, part wanted to see his remains, to end it, part wanted never to think of him again. But she couldn't, and he deserved to be remembered.

Airazor allowed herself a sigh and a shiver. Somehow Tigatron's death had been ruined, if such a thing was possible, by the fact that the one witness didn't care. Here she thought of Tigatron and moisture collected on her cheek feathers, while Panthera looked and acted just as always. No, she never could stand Panthera. Any of the others, no matter how annoying, or frustrating, she could handle. They all had good hearts, she knew, but Panthera... no feeling emerged from behind those blood red eyes. Airazor had seen the cat enjoy herself while tormenting Rattrap, and had seen her sad, but that seemed for secret, self-absorbed reasons that vanished two days after they appeared. Indeed, and she mantled at the thought, Panthera had stopped moping about the same day Tigatron died.... perhaps there was the reason. Maybe she hadn't killed in a while, gone into blood-withdrawal or something. She wouldn't put it past the panther. Having her energon drained- the physical pain- and now the emotional. It was only a matter of time before the deceitful feline started messing with her mind.

Then again, she mused, maybe she already had.

By the base of the mountain the dirt silently crumbled, allowing a large red figure to climb out from underground. He shook his head and the dirt from his light-blue pincers. Covered with slime, mostly algae and rust, he took a quick look around for any enemies, then scurried away. In his mind replayed the broken recording, the same old phrases, twisted and as crazed as he himself.

Rattrap kicked back on his favorite garbage heap. Not very good smell-wise, but you couldn't beat the cuisine. Somehow, though, he wasn't enjoying it. Something was hanging over his head... and not just the grey clouds that rumbled a coming rain. Everything had been so strange lately... for the first time ever he saw Panthera sad... Tigatron had died, Rhinox lost his top.... the kid had been staring at Panthera the last few days every time she talked. He had this odd look on his face, a look of concentration and seriousness that shouldn't be etched into his young brow. And Rattrap hadn't the slightest idea what was wrong with any of them. He sat here munching junk while things started collapsing, and tension was everywhere... it seemed to him that ol' Stripes' death had suddenly brought full to force every crime Panthera brought against them, and she wasn't helping, either. This all led to confrontation, bad idea. Oh, he'd have loved to have the furball outta his face, but she wasn't exactly the easiest to get rid of. Who knows, she had to realize this... the next time they slept they just might not wake up.

He'd have to talk to Optimus about that, no matter how suspicious Panthera got at least they could set up a watch, give them a little time to prepare. Or maybe Rhinox could come up with a system to ... trap the panther in case of emergencies. That caused him to grumble a bit. That panther hadn't hurt him... well, she hadn't lately, and she'd had plenty of opportunities to do so. He really didn't think she would, but what sort of moron would he be to leave it to chance?

"Can't trust those Proxians... never'll say just which side der on... at least Dinobot I could handle if he went ballistic..." and that wasn't his ego, either. Dinobot was very dangerous in battle mode, true, but his IQ seemed to drop thirty points... and Panthera was never in any danger of losing her cool. It was her defining characteristic to be on the brink of death and say some half-hearted "Oh, well," comment. Another reason he didn't like the Proxian; didn't she have emotions??

"Hehh... if I'm gonna do it I gotta do it now. Who knows when dat panter'll be back?" He downed a rotten apple and slid down the side of the pile, heading for Optimus' quarters.

Shades of Grey, pt. 2 (PG)
by BluePard (bluepard@buffnet.net)

Blackarachnia leaned farther back in her chair, recrossing her legs the opposite way as one was falling asleep. She was in the most aggressive posture possible, her arms crossed and nails digging into them. The Predacons were absent another warrior- an idiot but a valuable idiot- and, naturally, it was all Megatron's fault. They couldn't confirm that Inferno was dead, but his energon signature wasn't within their scanning range. Megatron had assumed this was Panthera's work, as though the other Maximals couldn't have done it, but he was probably right. The Maximals had never succeeded in bringing down a Predacon, just severely damaging them. They had successfully infiltrated the base, but they only managed to cart off the two golden disks, while Panthera took away whole rooms of their assets.

Blackarachnia made a disapproving noise. If she had been in charge it would have been different. If she had that pain collar Megatron would have fallen. She wouldn't have been dumb enough to throw Panthera on the scrap heap; this was a Proxian for Pete's sake. They knew practically nothing about them; all precautions should have been taken. Didn't the fool realize how valuable Proxians were, dead or alive? She was going to salvage Panthera's body from the heap to learn what she could, so she had been the first to discover the corpse's' absence, and the first to draw Megatron's anger.

"Oversized canary," she grumbled, "Doesn't he realize how much a Proxian is worth on the black market? As though the whole of Cybertron wouldn't give their limbs to find out the secrets to regulating energon?"

If she had been the one to do it, Panthera's dead body would have been under as much surveillance as Panthera herself. Panthera would have given into the pain eventually... victory would have been theirs, ahem, hers...

"And instead we are missing another warrior, I am still following the command of an idiot, and any of us could 'disappear' at any moment."

Typical.

Cheetor trotted along his patrol route. He was worried. Panthera had given him this ... look that morning, as though she knew... she knew... she knew that he knew.

"Knew what?" he mumbled to himself, "The names of a few things, the locations of a couple buildings... that Proxian traitors are kicked off of Proximis, and that not killing me would make Panthera a traitor...."

That was the problem. Panthera seemed to have assumed that since the reprogramming hadn't affected his personality it hadn't given him the standard background info all Proxians received when going on-line... but it had. He knew about the day and night workers, and it made so much sense to him he wanted to suggest it to the Maximal elders sometime. Acute Home Sickness made sense now as well... more information had appeared to him once the pain had subsided. To keep Proxians loyal by making them dependent on their home planet- an evil bit of programming, but very effective. It explained the lack of police on Proximis, and why all military was geared for outside attack. They seemed to assume that no one would try to harm the planet they were necessarily devoted to; or that any traitors would be hauled in by the loyal public. And to put training on another planet, to further the drive to do well and give young Proxians a taste of what traitorism felt like- another stroke of cruel brilliance.

The information he carried now- all the way back to Lucky Lightwing- any loyal Proxian would have died for. And he did not doubt Panthera's loyalty... then again, what was she doing here? She had been telling the truth when she said there were only three reasons to find a Proxian off of Proximis: because they were a trainee, or a traitor, or were on a leader mission. Cheetor knew that all the trainees were transported together, so if that was true where were the other trainees of Panthera's year? Panthera wasn't the leader type, to say the least... which left her as a traitor. A traitor with morals, who didn't lie, who was in stasis instead of in her own ship... who ought to be suffering a slow and painful death by AHS. AHS had only two effects, insanity or pining away to nothing, and Panthera certainly wasn't getting any thinner.

He cursed himself a second. Panthera had been away today, but who knew when she would reappear? She might be gone hours, days, weeks, months. And if she heard, and was loyal, she would slag every other Maximal just to get to him. Optimus ought to know about this, and Cheetor should have told him long ago, but the constant threat of the black panther...

His concentration broke as he came upon the black panther, lying on her back in the sun to absorb the sun's heat. She didn't look up, but her ear twitched and she had heard him coming.

"Hey, Greenpaws," she said, still not facing him, "Aren't you a bit too south-west for your usual route?"

He checked, and he was. He'd let his mind wander too far.

"You got a death wish or something," she continued, "why don't you just walk into the Abyss like that?"

"Like you're any better, lying in the sun where anyone can see you. And shoot you."

"I'm close to the jungle, and my ear's to the ground for approaching preds."

"What about the air?"

"I could hear Waspinator's buzz from miles away... his insanity's actually kind of amusing."

"What about Optimus and Airazor?"

"I could hear Optimus' jets, and Airazor's been grumbling a lot lately... 'that stinking panther, wouldn't put it past her to have slagged him for the fun of it...' and such." she looked up at him, "You wouldn't be thinking similar thoughts, would you?"

"You care?"

"I care about whether I'm stabbed in the back while I sleep... not unlikely with my popularity." she grinned a little to herself, purring. "So I'm in a harmonious mode today, so stop giving me that look."

He wiped "that look" off his face. "No, I believe you were telling the truth... are you sure there was nothing you could do?"

"I don't think so." she shrugged as well as she could lying down, "Thing about telling the truth all the time, ya gotta watch what you say, and be very literal."

"Then there are those exceptions...."

"Exceptions? Oh, yeah, the ones Pattie wrote up. Like how lying down doesn't count as lying, or when I sing songs, some of those lyrics don't match the truth..."

"Pattie?"

"My best friend. One of them, anyway."

"Where's he? In your imagination?" said Cheetor, glad that Panthera was in a good mood and only chuckled.

"No, silly, back on Vicinis... well, he'd be on Proximis now. Him, me and Finagle made up the Terror Trio. We scared the heck out of everybody." she laughed.

"What... you didn't come on-line here?" he said, proud that he remembered not to know that.

"Huh? Is that what you guys think?" she looked at him upside-down, grinning from ear to dull-black ear, "Sheesh, even when I'm not actively trying to confuse ya, you confuse yourselves!"

"Yeah, well.... I find it hard to believe anyone could stand you, by choice..."

"Actually, he didn't have a choice. Hah, ahhh... it was really funny."

"What?"

Panthera eyeballed him, then relaxed back on the grass.

"I suppose personal stories wouldn't tell you much about Proximis... I'm nothing like most Proxians... or at least I like to think that." she chuckled again, "Well, all of us new trainees had just come on-line a day or so before this, and we were pissed. Someone just lost it and started shooting randomly, and soon we were all fighting. I was trying to gut Patroclus... not easy to do, he's huge and a warrior... and Pattie tripped over something. I was about to cut his head off when he said 'Wait,' and pointed down at what he tripped over. Idget that I was, and still am, I looked. There was Finagle, crouching in a little ball, her hands over her ears, her eyes shut, and singing Camptown Races at the top of her voice. So we forgot all about fighting and tried to get her to tell us why she was doing that, but she wouldn't move. We kept tapping her on the shoulder and yelling but she wouldn't budge. So then somebody else is in the middle of a fight, backing up, and he trips over Finagle too. He got mad and was about to dice her when Pattie pulled him away and blew his head off. Then the guy he'd been fighting started shooting at us, so we blew his head off, too. After a while we had this little circle of me, Pattie, and a few others against everyone else with Finagle in the middle still singing Camptown Races!" she laughed, "'Course, we all got slagged, and when we were put back together and were feeling better we and we asked Finagle why the heck she did that. Seems she can't stand fighting, and she faints at the sight of mech fluid!"

"So that made you guys friends?"

"No, that's just how we met. We were all talking together when the teams were being chosen and we were left out, so we didn't really have a choice."

"Oh... but who won?"

"Won?"

"The virtual war. Did your team win?"

Panthera raised her head, and the rest of herself with it, staring at Cheetor. Panthera's friendly attitude vanished in a second, and now...

Megatron tapped his fingers against his armrest just to hear the noise. Things were not going well. Inferno was missing, Panthera still at large, and all of his crew had disappeared after his last tantrum. Those evil Maximals were beating him... in a matter of life and death. Criminal that he was, only the large amounts of energon he hoped to bring back to Cybertron would ever restore him in the eyes of his comrades. Without it he was as good as dead, worse, for who knew what Predacon command might have in store for him... those idiot Maximals weren't even fighting for their lives as he was, the energon would not insure their genocide... it would just raise the odds against them. Still, they sought to defeat him, forcing him to face death or hide forever in anonymity.

Well, he would not allow it. Despite the idiots under his command, despite that he was outnumbered, despite that thrice-cursed Proxian, he would triumph.

"My Queen! I have returned! And have buurrrnned the destroyer of the colony!"

Megatron looked up to the exuberant face of his last loyal follower. Now here was some good news....

Optimus is lounged in a chair with a book in his hands. He was not reading it, staring blankly at something... he had no idea what. His thoughts were elsewhere, namely, on that morning. First Panthera and Cheetor had been holding a staring contest, each apparently trying to psyche out the other. Then Rhinox lost it, something he had only done a couple times as long as Optimus knew him. His own feelings about Panthera were summed up in a word- fear. Panthera, the most dangerous and the least controllable walked among them. He worried himself constantly about it... and couldn't get such things out of his head. Sometimes just looking at Panthera he would get an image of her draining Cheetor's energon, or crushing Rattrap to bits.... he shook the thought away. It didn't help that she stayed up all night, while they were asleep and helpless. He was glad for the time that he didn't have to deal with her, but the thought of that silent death stalking the halls of the Axalon alone... no, he couldn't stand it. Still, Panthera was so tuned into everything, her ears too sharp, her eyes too keen, her judge of body language and personality too fine... he couldn't help thinking she would anticipate any move they could make. Playing chess with someone who thinks forty moves ahead and has a brilliant poker face- that was what this was.

He sighed a bit, then looked down as his com sprung into life with Cheetor's voice.

"Panthera's trying to kill me!"

Optimus acknowledged the transmission as he ran out of his quarters, shouting an order to Rhinox as he flew out of the Axalon.

Cheetor ran as fast as he could, escaping Panthera only by zigging and zagging.

"Give it up, you can't do this forever."

Maybe not, but I can try. He didn't slow his pace, but he was starting to feel the lack of oxygen in his organics. He turned again, making Panthera fall back a few more paces, but he was overheating. His legs began to fail him, and as his tired mind reached to force them onward, Panthera hit him from the side, jaws to his neck. He flinched as he was knocked to the ground, and flinched again as a blast exploded neck to his ear. He looked up to see Panthera recovering, mech fluid dripping from the exposed parts on her neck, and Optimus landing beside him.

"What do you think you're doing, Panthera?"

"He knows about Proximis. That idget IDA gave him knowledge that isn't his to know. He must die."

"Surely there's some other way..."

"He could pledge allegiance to Proximis and wind up as a practice dummy for trainees... getting his energon drained over and over every day. But he wouldn't want that."

Who the heck would?

"Then you'll just have to accept it.."

"I will not. You don't understand, Optimus, he must die, for the good..."

"...of Proximis. Yeah."

Panthera gave Cheetor a strange look.

"How come no one ever lets me finish that sentence?"

Optimus tried to say something, but he was hit with an energon surge. He went to beast mode while Cheetor had the good sense to transform, as did Panthera. She reached to her side, pulling out her sand shooter and aiming it for Optimus, who dodged... before the shot came. As he landed Panthera shot twice, hitting twice. Cheetor stared in shock, pulling his quasar cannon from behind his back- too slow, he was hit twice straight in the chest, cementing him to the ground. He tried to struggle free, but that only forced more glue into his parts before it hardened. He was having trouble breathing. Panthera calmly reattached her weapon to her side and went into beast mode, and straight for him.

"I don't suppose you want to pledge allegiance?"

"No," Cheetor whispered, barely able to call forth the air to do that.

"Then you're dead lead. Sorry 'bout this, Roboboy, but it's in the job description.."

"Find another job..."

"Greenpaws, this is in every Proxian's job descrip... " she shouted as a bolt of blue light knocked her away. A familiar, high and yet low, feminine yet masculine voice called out.

"Wait a second, Arcane..."

"Why? He dies. I will be loyal, he will be dead."

"Well, I was going to let this be a surprise, but what the heck."

Her eyes shone navy blue and both Panthera and Cheetor braced for an impact. Instead, a hologram projected from her sightless eyes, flickering a moment, then defining. It was a perfect three-dimensional figure of Panthera, in panther and robot forms. Next to it was a book real enough to write upon, with moving letters in a strange language. Panthera's two figures rotated slowly.

"Have you ever thought, Arcane, exactly how statistically staggering it would be for you to be lost? In all the years of Proximis, a leader mission is only launched perhaps twenty times every billion years."

Panthera stared with disbelief and recognition at the statistics written on the book.

"Has it ever occurred to you that since you were nominated for the Nightrunning, your statistics had to be wired back to Proximis? And that anyone could intercept those stats... like I did? You know, Arcane, it's an odd thing, once every megacycle a huge passenger starship flies to Proximis and back, but only one small, self-contained starship flew off of Vicinis the megacycle of your birth. I suppose anyone passing by would have to assume it was yours. And, given the circumstances, I don't suppose it would be too hard to destroy or crash the ship you were headed for. Have you ever thought, Arcane, how unlikely it would be for you to land in a tropical area, where you could find and take on the same beast form you had on Vicinis? Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?"

"You...."

"No, not me. I am merely very smart and have nothing better to do."

"Why should I believe that?"

"The same reason people believe you when you say you don't lie."

"But I don't go around reprogramming people and hinting and teasing as though I know the world like the back of my slaggin' paw..."

"...and I don't go around threatening and sitting on people; hurting hides and hurting dignities. Besides, I do know the world like the back of my slagging paw. It is my world. Those aliens are newcomers as much as you are." she sighed, "No one seems to respect authority anymore."

"Oh, poor you."

"Sarcasm; and here I thought you didn't do the sarcasm thing. But, to the point, Arcane, you were placed here for someone else's purposes. You do not know that there even is a Proximis, or at least not that you came from it. The Maximals do not know enough of that planet to tell you one way or another, and every memory you have could be fake. "

"But, I..." she shivered.

"I wonder now if Ostrava really was a traitor. She could not remember, perhaps you murdered an innocent victim."

Panthera had a look of horror on her face, though it could not be said which of the revelations caused it.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?"

"Well, you are an interesting person to play with, Arcane." IDA smiled, an twisted expression in her mask of a face. She stepped away into nothing.

"Aw, man, ignorance is bliss. Just see how happy Waspinator is."

"I hate to interrupt your brooding, but are you going to kill me?"

"Forget it."

"What?"

"You heard me." and she started to walk off.

"Oh, and another thing, Arcane?" Panthera spun around at IDA's voice. "You will not get away unpunished this time."

Panthera was hit with blue rays from an unseen source, she bowed to her knees as the light stripped away the melanin from her organics. As Cheetor and Optimus watched, she lightened, her fur going from black to grey to white. As Panthera reached snow-blinding paleness, the blue light subsided. Panthera shook her head, opening her eyes... seeing her white paws. She looked behind at the rest of herself.

"White? You made me white? How's a girl supposed to sneak around like this?"

"That," said the voice from nowhere, "is the point."

"You... evil... man, I wish I knew some swear words."

"Behave yourself, Arcane, the more virtuous the darker you will be. Once black, you will stay black."

"What, you mean I have to start being nice?"

"Virtue can not be faked. Such a pity."

Panthera growled, her voice raising to a shout, "You evil recreant!!! By the Wreath, you deserve to die far more than Greenpaws!! You know Proximis, so you must die! Death to those who threaten Proximis, especially the annoying ones!!!!!"

"Oh, dearie me, Arcane, you are funny..."

Panthera growled off into the jungle...

"Panthera! How are we supposed to get out?"

Panthera rolled her eyes, metamizing, she pulled a sports bottle from her miscellaneous tools, spraying Cheetor and Optimus until the cement dissolved enough for them to struggle free. Back in beast mode, she walked away.

"Panthera," said Cheetor, getting another annoyed look from the white panther, "Who won?"

Panthera blinked a couple times before remembering what he was talking about.

"Oh, we did. I killed off nearly everyone."

IDA's voice floated back in, "Including yourself and all but one of your crew."

"Shut UP!!!" roared the panther, bounding into the jungle, but they could still see her.

"You know, I just realized something very disturbing," Cheetor told Optimus, "Everything up to this point has been her in a good mood."

Panthera sat in robot form, fingering the cloth threaded through a link in the chain around her waist. She read the barely visible writing, "From your friend, Patroclus" in Proximese. She looked up to her own reflection; only her beast form was white, since her robot form was made black by inorganic pigments. Still, the white beast form on her back spoiled the effect, besides clashing with her front.

"I want my black back."

"Stop whining," said her computer, "you could be doing your lesso..."

"Computer, access the Maximal and Predacon files I stole. I want all the info on Proxians and Proximis."

"Searching... found. Proxians: Robotic inhabitants of the organic planet Proximis of the Libra Proximis Solar System. Do not often leave home planet. Neutral to all others."

Panthera waited a second, expecting more.

"That's it? Sheesh."

"Well, you are homebodies."

"Yeah, so I've heard." she sighed, "Computer, remind me to have a fox for lunch."

"Unwise. V. Vulpes is a predator, and as such gives off a strong and offensive odor."

Panthera growled, taking her chair and flipping it over without doing any damage.

"Then remind me to feed one to Rattrap."