BEAST WARS REBIRTH: Chapter 4 - Escapades Pt 2

[Jagna]

Oh. My. God. this chapter was looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong. About 23 pages! Gak! O.0

Anywho, here be part two of Escapades of REBIRTH. I was considering making it a three-parter, it was so long, but that would've been too much, methinks.

I hope you guys like it....read it for that matter. It's been a while since I put up a chapter, and I feel it went well, but hey, that's just my opinion.

>.>

Enjoy!





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Chapter 4: Escapades pt 2

“Predacons, TERRORISE!”

“Holy slag, MOVE IT!” Rattrap yelled as the pack of transforming Predacons disturbed the vegetation and its inhabitants.

Gunfire erupted like a ring of volcanoes around the Maximals. They dodged bullets, kicks, grabs and all sorts of dirty attack moves.

One Predacon in particular with no battle ethics was a black bear by the name of Colossus. He fired blind-siding shots that hit nothing to distract his prey, and then swiped at them with his massive claws. He was very bulky, black and had a hunger in his eye that Rattrap caught a glimpse of as he dodged a swipe.

“For guys who’ve had a truce, these guys sure know where to hit! Yipe!”

“Rattrap!” Cheetor cried. He darted towards the rat, grabbed him, shoving them both out of the way of a hit from Colossus that would not have missed.

“Thanks, kid. Now go watch yer own back, and take these Preds down!”

The cat smiled broadly and nodded. He transformed into beast mode and spotted a canine Predacon who was looking for something to shoot.

“You wanna target? Try a moving target, wolfy!” he yelled.

“I am a coyote!” the Predacon screamed back, clearly insulted, “Steelclaw, Terrorise!”

He transformed and snarled at the feline. The head of the coyote split in two and rested in each shoulder, and the mech’s head was covered in spikes, framing his face in a menacing way. He drew his weapon (an abnormally large bazooka) and aimed it at Cheetor.

“Catch me if you can!” teased Cheetor. At a blurring speed, he ran circles around the Predacon. After 10 or 20 rotations, Steelclaw got fed up of trying to keep an eye on his adversary and started following Cheetor with his gun, shooting randomly at the ground.

Cheetor could not keep this up forever. He leapt out of the circle, and Steelclaw, not noticing the cat’s departure, continued to spin and shoot. Cheetor stood and watched him, slightly amused. Eventually, he got bored and shot the coyote with his quasar canon. The Predacon was hit on the side and span even faster till he landed on the floor in a heap, his head still spinning.

“Yes!” he hollered triumphantly, “Cheetor one; Predacons zero! Rowr!” His triumph was short-lived, however, when a sharp object pierced his back and started draining him of mech fluid.

“Cocky Maximal youth!” shrieked the Predacon above him, whose long, thin sucker was attached to a chord on her forearm-mounted canon, “At least you taste good…”

“Get away, you parasite!” yelled Nightshaft, angrily. Cheetor fell to his knees as soon as he felt the sharp item was jerked out of him. He heard the buzzing of the Predacon who attacked him get quieter as she headed towards the spider monkey.

The Predacon was surprisingly swift, and Nightshaft missed every shot.

“Will you stay still so I can swat you, you pesky mosquito!” the spider monkey snarled.

The aforementioned parasite smirked. “Why don’t you stay still so I can enjoy a free meal?”

“What? Agh!” The same object used to suck the energy out of Cheetor was now embedded in Nightshaft’s chest, and was performing its duty quickly.

Luckily for Nightshaft, Sandskimmer had narrowly escaped a skirmish with Crowbeak and a frilled lizard. As he ran, he pulled out a small dagger and sliced the cord that attacked the mosquito’s sucker from his comrade. The Predacon hissed and buzzed away angrily. Sandskimmer lifted Nightshaft onto his shoulder and moved towards Cheetor.

“Where’s your rat, mate?” he asked the cat.

“Getting his butt whooped over here!” Rattrap yelled, running over to the pair. The four Maximals ended up together, Nightshaft draped over Sandskimmer’s shoulders, Cheetor still on his knees, and Rattrap’s weapon in his hand as he panted and rubbed the many dents he received from the Predacons’ shots.

“NOW!” instructed Crowbeak.

The Maximals winced as they awaited something highly explosive…but nothing happened. Or so it seemed. Confused, they all looked around.

Something was wrong.

Someone was missing…

“Cheetor? Cheetor! Where are yeh, spots?” The cat had disappeared.

Rattrap frantically whirled around to find him. He couldn’t have pulled off one of his heroic stunts, could he? Not at a time like this…although it certainly would have been accurately characteristic of him.

When he turned around again, Nightshaft was on her knees. But there was no sign of Sandskimmer.

“What the…?”

Nightshaft mouthed something to him. The draining had taken a lot out of her, and her vocal processors had been affected.

Behind you, she mouthed desperately.

He tilted his head in puzzlement. He turned, but all he saw was a tree. Its trunk looked a little distorted, but…

“Holy SLAG!”

There was a flurry of dust and leaves, a flash of yellow optics, then everything was black.

---

“Took you long enough…” sneered an impatient Serpentia when the ambush party returned to the Predacon base.

“As if you could’ve done it any faster,” retorted Crowbeak, squinting his optics.

“I would not havvvve messssed about with fffancy trickssss…” she hissed back, “It would havvvve been sssswifft and deadly. No gamessss.”

The vulture huffed.

“Where are they, then?” the cobra asked.

Crowbeak turned his head and jerked his head, signalling his party to bring in the prisoners.

Rattrap, Cheetor, Nightshaft and Sandskimmer were bound with energy chords on some sort of trolley, like the ones used to move crates or stacks of chairs. The energon bonds around the Transmetals were on a higher frequency, and therefore their hold on them was stronger.

“Fffffour Maxxximalsss? Is that the besssst you could do?” Patthhhetic…But it will do, I sssssupposssse…”

Crowbeak glared at her. “These two were trickier than we anticipated…” he grumbled, nudging his thumb in their captives’ direction.

“The Transssmetalssss?” asked Serpentia.

“No, the other two. Those shiny morons were easy pickings, like protoforms on an assembly line.”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see that the cheetah bot had woken up just in time to hear that insult. Cheetor’s Transmetal 2 form obviously didn’t give him as much of an advantage as he’d thought. How did they all get captured anyway?.

“Rise and shine, everybody,” announced Crowbeak. He flicked a switch on a remote control he had, which sent a surge of energon through the Maximals’ circuits. They all woke with a painful start.

“Hey, what gives?” cried Rattrap. His and Cheetor’s Transmetal forms meant that energon radiation did not affect them. How on Cybertron did the Predacons zap them just now?

“Hm, guess our oh-so-mighty leader was right…” whispered Crowbeak, playfully flicking the switch once again, laughing at the yelps of pain that emitted from his prisoners.

“Great sitch you got us into, Night…” Sandskimmer stated, bitterly.

“Excuse me? Who invited you, anyway?” she spat back.

“Oh, ssshhhut up!” barked Serpentia, “Aren’t we the enemiessss here?” She chortled at the delicious irony.

The two organics lowered their heads after glancing guiltily at each other. The Pred had a point…

“Well, at leasssst you got two from each party. Go fetch him,” she ordered Crowbeak. He stood his ground, scowling.

“That’ssss an order…” she added sternly.

---

The Maximals at Pangaea One were going about their daily business, be it watching the monitors, training for combat, or lazing around until scout duty.

However, something was amiss. A gold and brown camel bot named Nomad, who had half of his beast mode hump sat on each shoulder, and all the limbs located on his back, was searching the base for someone, clearly confused.

“Something the matter, Nomad?” asked Greyback, distracted by the camel’s rummaging through a supply closet.

“I cannot locate Sandskimmer anywhere,” Nomad replied, ceasing his futile search amongst the wrenches and empty weapons canisters, “he was supposed to accompany me to the Sahel sector, but he’s late and won’t answer his com-link.”

Greyback raised a brow ridge. Sandskimmer was an irresponsible little imp at times, but he was never late for a mission. He scratched his chin, thinking. He then walked over to an empty console and opened a communication channel to Sandskimmer.

“Greyback to Sandskimmer, please respond, you’re late for your duties.”

There was only quiet static.

“Respond, dammit, that’s an order,” continued Grey, a little sterner. Still nothing. “Hmm…” he streamed an open channel communication to all the Maximals in the base.

Optimus, now having been formally instated into the Pangaea crew, heard the message over his own com-link:

“This is a message directed to all units…anyone seen Sandskimmer?”

Optimus heard several mutters of unawareness as to the jerboa’s location over his radio. He headed towards the command centre where Greyback, the temporary commander in Jagna’s absence, was located to offer a hand if needed. This greatly irritated the wolf. But the, very little didn’t irritate him.

“You can pretend to be useful by scanning the base for him…” the canine scoffed.

Unappreciative of his attitude, Optimus was about to retort when Rhinox came in, looking just as confused as Nomad did 7 cycles earlier.

“Anybody seen Rattrap? He’s got a few of my tools and…what?”

“Rattrap’s missing?” asked Optimus.

“Missing? I dunno, he’s just not where I left him with Cheetor. Incidentally, where’d he go?”

Optimus was beginning to see a pattern. Evidently, so was Greyback. The wolf mech turned to Nomad, and ordered him to have all base units report to them immediately.

20 cycles later, the room was rather crowded. As he looked around, Optimus saw no sign of his two comrade, and they were easily distinguishable. Greyback had a holopad in his hand, and began ticking off names.

“Nomad...(“Present”), Spanner…(“Right here”) Sleek…(“Here”)…”

He finished the role call with the last two names on the list, to which he got no response.

“Sandskimmer and…Nightshaft?” He grumbled, resuming the scratching of his chin, “And two of yours are missing, Primal?” he inquired. Optimus nodded, starting to get worried.

“Um…Grey?” peeped Accinon, raising her hand slowly, “I think they went out…”

“What?” he snapped back.

“Well, I heard them say something about humans, and…Night said she’d take ‘em somewhere, I dunno.” She shrugged.

“And why didn’t you stop them, ‘Non?”

“I can’t answer you when you use that tone, Grey…” she said, haughtily defensive. Greyback slapped his head.

“Alright. Streakhorn…” he pointed to a female gazelle in the crowd, “I want the long-range scanners up, now. The rest of you, to your posts.”

All units made their way to their assigned duties. Greyback whispered to Optimus for a quick word.

“What are your guys playing at?”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought we had an agreement. You and your lot would follow our rules, and that includes…” the wolf was cut off by an intruding orange hand.

“I resent the implication that my crew would be so irresponsible to walk away like this…” he stated, dryly.

“Are you saying this is the fault of my crew members?”

“I’m saying that we can’t place blame on anyone until we know exactly what happened. Besides, they’re not yours…” he added, slightly bitterly. He was, after all, just the lieutenant.

Greyback snarled.

“Woah, now, hold up!” someone called from the crowd. It was Spanner, the macaw bot. He pushed his way past his comrades, and ended up next to the bickering bots. “Why y’all trippin’, Grey?”

“Were you listening?” Greyback asked, narrowing his optics.

“Never mind that. Listen, man, they’re kids! You can’t keep a leash on ‘em like a dog, dawg. And they’re together, ain’t that enough?”

“Rattrap would know better…or should know better…” Optimus muttered.

“I mean, come on,” Spanner continued, “It’s not like they gonna get themselves captured or nuthin’, right?”

“Grey!”

The three mechs turned their heads. Streakhorn was galloping towards them, her long, slender gazelle limbs carrying her as fast as they could.

“We just got a transmition from the Predacons. They’ve got our guys…”

After a brief second of utter shock, Greyback shot a nasty look at Spanner.

“What?”

“Slaggit,” Greyback turned his head away, sick with worry and panic, “We should’ve known it was way too quiet. Streakhorn, contact Base Three, I need to talk to Jag.”

“Shouldn’t we hear what the Predacon have to say first?”

“Did I say anything about the Predacons? No, I didn’t. Get our leader on the communicator, now!”

A few cycles later, Greyback was at another console speaking through a microphone.

“This is Pangaea One calling Base Three. Come in, Base Three.”

He was answered by a deep male voice from the other side.

“This is Streamline. What’s up Grey? Long time no speak!”

“Not now, blubber head, I need t talk to Jag…”

“Well, that’s nice,” the other voice replied, clearly insulted, “Jag’s not here, you just missed her.”

“What? How? She’s only been there a few cycles!”

“Yeah, and she needed to go with Sig straight away. She was late, so…”

“When will they be done?” Greyback interrupted, impatiently.

“Got me. Few megacycles, maybe. Look, what’s this about?”

Greyback huffed, sighed, and composed himself to answer without reaching through the communicator and shaking Streamline till his head toppled off.

“Four Maximals have been captured by the Predacons. Nightshaft, Sandskimmer, and two of the new guys, a rat and a cat.”

“…holy slag…And the Preds?”

“Havn’t spoken to ‘em yet…” Grey answered, lowering his head. He was dreading talking to the Predacons, dreaded hearing what they’d have in store for his comrades.

Optimus, seeing this distress, stepped in.

“Is there any way at all to get in contact with your commander?” he asked the voice in the microphone.

“Who’s this?” came Streamline’s muffled and confused voice.

“This is Optimus Primal…I’m new here…Where is she, exactly?”

“About 300m below sea level, why?”

“Can you swim?”

“Duh. I’m a whale.” Optimus sighed impatiently. How was he supposed to know that?

“Just get her, you hunk o’ blubber,” snapped Greyback, out of his slump.

“Yes, of course. Streamline out.”

---

”Bahhhh! I ttttthought the Maxxximalsss would’ve called by now!”

Serpentia was slithering on the floor back and forth, hissing impatiently. Crowbeak and Colossus were leaning idly against the wall, watching the serpent. A large, portable, cylindrical chamber was in the middle of the room, the back of it facing them.

“They…will do…” came the eery voice from within its chamber, referring to their Maximal hostages, “Make…the call…”

---

The Maximals had just received the communication from the Predacons, demanding a rendezvous in a remote sector. Greyback’s nerves were at their peak, and the usually calm Optimus was starting to get a bit testy, too.

Optimus was worried about his two crewmates, as was Greyback for his, and they were reaching the point in their disagreement where they would surely hit each other. Or rather, Optimus could slap Greyback into the next chamber with a flick of his index.

Then, a familiar and highly welcomed voice came through the crackling radio, “Greyback? Come in…”

“Jag? Is that you? Thank merciful Primus.” The wolf sighed, slumping into a chair and wiping his brow.

“Yeah, Signia and I have just finished setting up the long-range marine communication posts. What’s up?”

“We, uh, we got a problem…”

“Yes, I gathered. Streamline was sobbing into the com-link, I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.”

“Blubber head…” Greyback muttered, turning his head away from the microphone.

“Well?” queried Jagna, growing ever impatient.

After an uncomfortable pause, Greyback answered, “We have a Situation Obses in action, I’m afraid.”

“What?!” He jumped a little at the response, as she must have leant further towards the microphone and shouted into it. “Who?” she continued.

“Nightshaft, Sandskimmer,” he heard her groan, “Rattrap and Cheetor.”

There was another moment of silence. Then they heard her conversing with her companion, Signia. Optimus decided to step in and explain the situation.

“They requested a rendezvous in this quadrant,” he stated, typing in the co-ordinates much to Greyback’s irritation. Optimus heard him mutter something along the lines of ‘his fingers are too big’, “I believe they were ambushed…” before he could continue, he was sharply cut off.

“Thank you for your tremendously insightful observation, Primal,” the Maximal leader spat through the microphone, “an Obses situation is a hostage situation, thank you very much.” How was he supposed to know that? These Maximals all seem to assume he would catch on to every little thing.

“Listen, Jagna, if I know those Preds, they’ve taken them to their base. Permission to send a scout group to Sector 12…” Greyback stated.

Sector 12? Optimus’ optics widened. The lava pits…

“Permission granted,” the leopard replied, “but do not engage until I get there.”

“But it’ll take you ages to get there!”

“Find out what they want, but I repeat: do not engage. Are we clear?”

“I can handle this…” began an offended Greyback.

“That’s an order, lieutenant.” she stated firmly, “Jagna out.”

The wolf snarled at the now silent com-link. But he shook his head and followed his orders.

“Alright gang, you heard her, I want units from both terrestrial bases on this one. Spanner, you’re with me, and call Bounder and Misty. I want them with us.”

“Yes, suh!” Spanner flew of towards another communicator in a blur of red feathers.

“You. Primal,” Greyback barked at Optimus, “those are your guys out there, too. I think you should come with us.”

Optimus was taken aback, but grateful. Despite his rough edges, Greyback obviously gave a damn about the safety of his team. Primal nodded respectfully, letting the lieutenant know that he appreciated the gesture, and would cause no trouble. Grey nodded back.

“Spanner?” the wolf called out.

“They on their way, Grey, they’ll meet us there. They were close by on field duty anyway.”

“Good. In the meantime, you’re aerial recon. As soon as you bet there, scout the perimeter. Remember not to engage, but see if you can spot what the Preds are up to. You’re one of our best fliers, and…”

“Fo’ sho! You got that right dawg, make way for numbah one! Hell yeah…” he trailed off after noticing the look on Grey’s face.

“Don’t let it get to your head. I said ‘one ‘of’, now get going.”

“Yes, suh!” the macaw replied, taking off through one of the cave’s chimneys.

“Alright, Primal, let’s head out.”

Optimus nodded, and once outside the mountain transformed into flight mode, and convinced a reluctant Greyback to hitch a ride. He did, on one condition: they stayed as close to the ground as possible. “So I can tell where we are,” he claimed.

---

”Polly wanna cracker?”

“Shut up.”

“Polly wanna craker?”

“Shut up!”

Polly wanna…urk!”

Sandskimmer’s persistent taunting of Crowbeak swiftly rewarded him with two magnets sealing his lips.

“Nice…” scoffed Cheetor

“Shd p…” the jerboa muffled.

“Well, they’re sure taking their sweet time,” muttered Colossus, who had worn a foot-deep trench in the soil after a long period of impatient pacing with his gigantic feet.

“Optimus’ll be here,” said Cheetor with confidence, “you’ll see…”

That’s the idea, you impudent little welp, Obertron thought snidely. He didn’t doubt that the Maximals would arrive, and he was to ‘negotiate’ with the Maximal scum…How he despised that aspect of his position. Maximals are for vapourising, not for making pleasantries.

Meanwhile, back at the Predacon base, Rattrap and Nightshaft we being contained in a circular cell with high frequency energy bars surrounding them threateningly.

“Well, ain’t this just peachy!” exclaimed Rattrap, after yet another failed attempt at disabling the bars. He nursed his fingers, all of which had been singed slightly, muttering. He turned to the spider monkey, “No way they got all this fancy stuff by salvagin’ a blown up sardine can.”

“They’re good at improvising,” she replied, “I should know…”

He was about to ask what she was talking about, then she pulled out what looked like a compact mirror…and it was. He raised a brow teasingly at her, but she didn’t see him…or chose not to.

She opened it and, making sure no on-guard Predacons were present, she delicately and with careful precision bent the light of the laser beams with the reflective surface. She aimed the reflected beam at the socket at the top of the bar, quietly exhausting the micron beams and overloading the circuits. The light flickered and died, leaving a gap of harmless air. Nightshaft smugly smiled and place a hand on her hip, admiring her handiwork with pride.

Rattrap gave a little huff. “Only one at a time? Meh…”

Aftre three more bars went offline, they slipped carefully through, being careful not to set off the alarm or frying themselves to a crisp.

“Okay, now what?” asked Rattrap.

“This was,” Nightshaft answered confidently.

“How do yeh know?”

“Trust us…”

”Us?” he asked, but she had already made her way without him. He threw up his arms, gave up and followed her into the vents in beast mode. He sincerely hoped his metal wheels would not make too much noise in the wafer thin tin tubes.

---

The three Pangaea One Maximals arrived at the edge of the sector. Greyback leap off Optimus’ wing as soon as solid ground was comfortably close enough. Spanner reported that there were six units at the meeting point. Four Predacons, but only two Maximals.

Grey and Optimus snarled.

They met up with the two recruited units from Pangaea Two, Bounder, an agile male hare and a small badger femme named Misty. Obviously, Optimus had never met these two transformers before, but it seemed that team-ups like these were not too frequent, as they and Spanner greeted each other like they hadn’t spoken for years.

“Alright people,” announced Greyback, “move in.”

What followed felt like a sever case of déjà vu when Greyback and Obertron stood opposite one another again, a very distasteful look on both faces.

With a smug little grin, Obertron, not taking his optics off the wolf, waved a long, crooked claw that beckoned forth his prisoners.

As soon as he saw Sandskimmer and Cheetor in energon bonds, Grey let out a fierce snarl, and grabbed the Predacon fuzor by the scruff of the neck and pulled him close, teeth bared. Obertron narrowed an optic and sneered.

“This uncomfortable closeness with Maximals is getting tedious. Release me, blaggard, so that we may have this over and done with.”

Grey narrowed his own optics and sharply pushed the monkey-bat away from him.

“Why are you even calling for a trade?” asked Bounder. The shaking of many heads old Optimus that the hare mech had a tendency to butt it, “Aren’t we technically at war?”

“Like we need you to remind us…” retorted Misty, quietly.

“Are we not all trying to avoid war?” asked Obertron, a look of fake innocence on his face. The Maximals stared blankly at him. Even his own troops couldn’t hold in a snort. “In any case, let us begin…”

“Not until Jagna gets here,” Greyback firmly stated.

“How predictable. What a good boy!” Obertron patted the top of Greyback’s helmet, and his hand was promptly slapped away with contempt.

All the present Predacons namely Colossus, Webneck and a sabertooth tiger who was hidden mostly in shadow, seized the delicious opportunity to taunt the uptight canine. It began with insults similar to Obertron’s, calling him puppy and what-not. Then came the sticks, and the ‘fetch’s.

Greyback’s whole body tensed but he remained still, fists clenched and shoulders up by his cheeks. I’m not gonna flip, I’m not gonna flip, he kept telling himself.

His right optic twitched when one of the twigs hit his face.

Flipping sequence commencing….

“Down boy,” taunted Colossus, “or else…”

The huge black bear had in his massive paws the remote control Crowbeak had earlier. With a smirk he flipped the switch, sending a surge of now all-too familiar pulse of pain through the captive Maximals.

Outraged, the Maximals angrily advanced, drawing their weapons. But their lieutenant held out his arms to stop them, still facing the Predacons, anger and worry blended into each other within his metal facial features.

“Stop it, now,” he said loudly, unable to keep his voice steady.

“Oh yeah?” Colossus increased the intensity of the cruel torture device. The yells of pain grew louder.

“No! Stop, please!” the wolf yelled hysterically, his body now shaking.

The four Predacons took a moment to enjoy the look on every single Maximal’s face, then turned the shocker on. Colossus chuckled, “I love my job,”

Cheetor graned. What a wallop that always was.

“Like we haven’t had enough of that today,” he heard Sandskimmer complain, justifiably.

Greyback sighed heavily, almost sinking to the ground with relief.

“Now that we have your attention,” boasted Obertron, (When did you not have my attention? Grey thought bitterly) “let us get down to the matter at hand.”

“And that would be?” asked a seething Optimus, unable to stop himself.

“Funny you should ask, Primal. We will trade their freedom…for you.”

“Me?” he inquired, confused.

“Him?” echoed the Maximals.

“But what…” Optimus was interrupted by a voice just ahead of him.

“Duh, it’s a trap.” Sandskimmer pointed out, as if it were obvious…which it was now.

“A trap? Nonsense. A trade…” stated Obertron, matter-of-factly. Optimus considered this carefully. Clearly it was a trap, and giving himself up would mean the Predacons would win. But if he didn’t, he would be condemning his captured comrades. Speaking of which…

“Where’s Rattrap? And Nightshaft?”

“It is simply a matter of the art of war, my friend. How can we be sure you’d comply?”

“And what about you Oby? I believe this has happened once or twice before. Frankly I’m getting sick of it…” sneered Greyback.

“The past is irrelevant at this point,” barked Obertron, his usual loud and dramatic voice slipping a bit, “what matters now is now. You leader is not currently present, so it is up to you…lieutenant…” he added with cruel intonation.

All eyes were on Greyback, who lowered his head solemnly.

“I cannot allow my comrades to remain captured,” he began, raising his head slowly, “nor can I ask Optimus Primal to sacrifice himself…”

Optimus appreciated Greyback’s dilemma, and his nobility. He had severely underestimated him. Though seemingly rash, he followed his Maximal programming to the last string of code. Jagna was wise to have made him her second-in-command.

“You won’t have to ask me. I’ll do it.”

Everyone turned to the other Maximal leader.

“You don’t have to do that,” affirmed Greyback.

“But I will,” Primal responded with a small smile. Greyback opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped and listened to something. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet, just under an ear. After a few nods and a soft mumble, he looked back at Optimus.

“Thank you, Primal. We won’t forget this,” He winked, unbeknownst to the Predacons. A little confused, Optimus stepped forward, but he gathered from Grey’s gesture that all would be well….

…He hoped.

“Don’t do it, Big-Bit. They’re Preds! They won’t hold up their end of the bargain, you know that!” Cheetor called to his leader, struggling against his bonds.

“Don’t underestimate our honour, young one,” hissed his captor, Webneck, a thin, Japanese-looking femme bot whose beast mode was a frilled lizard, its scales covering most of her body. She tightened her grip on her captive, making her collar of frills tense up in enjoyment, before releasing him and marching him to the trade-off spot.

Tempted as he was to spin around and rip out her spinal cord, the look Optimus gave Cheetor told him to keep calm and quiet.

The exchange was made. Obertron smiled and bowed, using his wings as a sort of cape.

“Until we meet again…”

“Nightshaft and Rattrap,” Greyback growled.

“They will be released as soon as we have reached our base, Obertron replied as the Predacon party turned to leave with Optimus, “Farewell,”

He smirked triumphantly at his comrades, worrying Optimus a little.

“Just squish ‘em, mate,” Sandskimmer whispered hoarsely as they crossed paths.

After a minute or so of making sure they were gone, Greyback turned and ordered Cheetor and Sandskimmer back to base.

“But…” Sandskimmer began, but he has cut off by a look of daggers.

“We’ll deal with you two later…” he spat.

“Hey, wait a minute!” cried Cheetor as he was led away by Misty, “What about Optimus? We can’t leave him with the Preds!”

Greyback’s mouth tugged at the corner to form a small smirk, “He’s a big boy, (pun intended). He’ll be fine. Fall back. Misty, Bounder, once these two are at Pangaea One, return to your field posts. Thanks for coming,” They nodded and made their way as escorts. “Spanner,” Grey continued, “I want a report on this for tomorrow.”

“On what?” squawked the flier.

“Just…take your time on it…” the wolf replied suggestively. Spanner tilted his head as the wolf transformed into beast mode and ran off in the opposite direction to the base. He shrugged, transformed as well, and took off.

---

“You sure yeh know where yer goin’, Blackie?”

“Even if I didn’t, would you know where to go?”

“Uh…”

“Exactly, so shut up.”

“I coulda figured it out…” Rattrap mumbled, disgruntled and getting impatient as he and Nightshaft snuck past and through random corridors of the Predacon base. He still had no idea where they were, inside or out.

After a few more cycles of lefts, rights, ups and downs in yet another ventilation system, a gust of steam threw them both out of a horizontal shaft and into a small dimly-lit cave.

Nightshaft pointed to a vertical tunnel with a ladder in it, signalling him to go first while she watched his back. Before he did so, Rattrap had a look around the cave with a sneaky suspicion he had been there before.

“Ugh, what a charming view…” Nightshaft covered her optics with her free hand as she and Rattrap ascended the ladder. He looked down at her and told her, with a smirk, to enjoy it while she could. Scowling, she instructed him to remove the cover at the top once they reached it.

He did so, and still look at her when he removed it asked, “Is this what you meant by watchin’ my back? Woah!”

A hand suddenly grabbed him by the back of the neck and hoisted him out of the hole. He yelled his signature yell, limbs flaining.

“easy, ratty,”

“What the…?”

Rattrap stopped, shocked but relieved that it was the maximal leader, Jagna’s hand that pulled him out.

“Oh, man. I don’t usually say this to cats, but boy, am I glad the see you!” he exclaimed. She smiled at him, put him down and reached down to pull Nightshaft out.

“Jag!” the primate sighed, “Thank the…”

“I’ll deal with you later…” Jagna hissed quietly. Nightshaft sunk her head to her chest, “And you,” Jagna continued, pointing to the Transmetal rat. What did I do? he thought.

“Jagna, the Preds have Sandskimmer and Cheetor,” said Nightshaft.

“Yes, I know, they’re fine. They’re on their way to base. Now follow me, Optimus will be here soon…” the leopard replied.

“Optimus?” inquired Rattrap, “What’s he doin’ here?”

“Exchanging himself for you. No time to talk about it, just follow my lead.”

Rattrap took a look at his immediate environment. Rocks that stank of silica, muddy ground, small pools of glowing red hot liquid…

“The lava pits! Are we in Sector 12?”

That’s exactly where we are. Now stay low, you two, they’ll be arriving shortly…

---

“Come on, bonehead, attack!”

“I cannot.”

“You gotta take a swipe at me…”

“But why? Even as a Predacon…”

“As a Predacon, you’d have no problem doing me in. I’ve shot you before.”

“To save my life.”

“Not the first time!”

Blackarachnia slapped her head. This was going nowhere. In order to infiltrate any Predacon society, they would need to undercover as Predacons…both of them. It was not a problem for the widow, because like she’s said before: “Even if I’m good, I’m still bad.” Silverbolt, on the other hand…

“Ugh, for the love of Primus, I give up!” She threw up her claws, turned on her heels and walked away from him after he refused to hit her yet again.

“But you cannot, beloved! We must infiltrate the Tripredicus Council, and I cannot do it without you.”

“Then work with me!” yelled the widow, frustrated. She sighed, “We’re obviously going to fail, so why bother? Evil will triumph…”

“Never!” cried Silverbolt, puffing out his chest, “I will not give up and neither will you! Come my love, make me a Predacon!’

Sucker…she smirked.

“If you think we can pull it off…” she said, holding her hands behind her back and swaying coyly. “Remember, Predacons will stop at nothing to get what they want. Nothing, got that? Now think of something you want…”

“I need not, I’m looking at it…” he smiled in her direction, trying to be charming.

“Focus, Bolt.” She turned away from him momentarily to cover up her chuffed smile. “Now, imagine I’m in the way of whatever it is you want.”

She had to snap her claws to get him to stop gazing dreamily at her.

“Right,” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Now, get by me.” She crouched down low, ready to stop him…if he ever decided to move.

Steadfast and resolute, Silverbolt, prepared to charge at her. Of course he would not, this was only to tease her. And of course, she knew this. And so, to his great surprise, as soon as he edged forward she charged straight for him, ramming him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards. He had forgotten how she could pack a punch.

As he got up massaging his stomach plate, she began to taunt him just as she did in the old days, with things like, “Fight back, Maximal!” and “What, can’t take it from a lady? Come on!”

The seriousness finally began to sink in. Silverbolt shook his head, and narrowed his optics, but he did not move. He saw the widow pacing in front of him, making threatening ‘come get me’ gestures.

Then, above her taunting, he heard another voice. He didn’t know where from, but apparently he was the only one who heard it, for his love continued to rant.

Can’t take it, huh? it said, Figures, you never could.

The bird dog darted his head from side to side, wondering who was saying that. It came from all sides it seemed, until it’s resonance focussed on one point. Temporarily blinded, he charged forward, hit something, bringing himself and it to the ground. He shook his head, and his optics came into focus. He was lying on top of Blackarachnia, who had an alarmed look on her face. But it quickly disappeared.

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere! Now get off me, you’re a lot heavier than you look…”

Silverbolt, still a little dazed, complied. Then he, too, congratulated himself.

“I must say, my love, your method was very effective,” he said, referring to the speakers she must have placed around the room to get him worked up.

She tilted her head, and said, “Hey, all it takes is a little taunting, bone head.” She thought he must be even softer than she originally anticipated if that was all it took to wind him up. She thought nothing of it, and would have to toughen him up. “But if I ever catch you in that position with any other bot, you’re on trouble,” she added winking. He smiled.

“Of course not. You are the only one I would ever…”

“Don’t finish that…” she said, holding up a claw to his lips, “Now come on, I think that’s enough for one day…”

He nodded, and with their arms interlocked in each other’s hips they left the room. Silverbolt pricked his ears when he heard something familiar…

Honour, huh? We’ll soon see to that…

He waved I aside, thinking She must have left it on.

---

Optimus tensely walked with the Predacons in beast mode. They came in sight of the familiar lava pits where the Darksyde used to be situated. Optimus would always remember the battles and rescue missions that took place in this sector, and would do so again now.

Greyback’s wink earlier suggested that he was up to something. He could not fathom what at the moment, but he hoped that whatever it was, it would not end with anyone getting seriously damaged.

“We’re not seriously considering releasing the other two?” Webneck asked obertrob, who was in beast mode as well, flying low to the ground to keep an eye on Primal. Optimus could hear them, because his Optimal body could heighten a required sense when needed, and they did not seem aware of that.

“Of course not, by thunder,” replied Obertron, swooping low to talk in the lizard’s ear, “We will need him and at least one other Transmetal, and I believe I am not the only one who was glad to be rid of that cat.”

“Indeed, what a mouth…” hissed the reptile.

So…thought Optimus…they would not keep their promise after all. Fine then. But he would uphold his Maximal honour…at least until he could think of a way to get free. He could easily ‘squish them’ as Sandskimmer so delicately put it, but that would provoke even more hostility from the Predacons as a whole, and they way they captured him before, he was in no mood to be put up against those odds. Anyone who could capture an almost Autobot-sized transformer was a force to be reckoned with. But how did they do it?

He was not sure what happened next. One minute, he was walking across the hot surface of the volcanically active ground, the next there were yells and war cries all around him. The first person he spotted was Rattrap, zooming towards him in beast mode. How relieved Optimus was to see that he escaped, but woprried now that he was alone out in the open.

But of course he wasn’t alone. Nightshaft was close to his rear and…Jagna as well? How did she get there and when?

An even bigger surprise was when Greyback jumped over Primal, transformed in mid air and started swiping at the beast forms of the Predacons.

“A little help would be nice, Boss Monkey!”

Optimus transformed and joined in the battle, which lasted a few cycles before he heard Jagna call, “Fall back!”

The autoguns of the Predacon base perimeter followed them as they ran, ricocheting off their metal bodies like peas from a pea shooter.

Optimal Optimus changed to jet mode, instructed everyone to climb on, and shot off at high speed. Poor Greyback clung on to Jagna for dear life as the wind shot past their heads like the bullets they were running from.

At last, the noise dispersed, and Optimus landed on a flat area of rock on a mountainside.

Jagna had to pull Greyback off Primal’s wing, as he was unconvinced they had stopped moving.

All five Maximals stood, panting from their effort. Greyback had a few words with Jagna, and they quietly mumbled, occasionally looking over at the other three. Optimus could not hear them, as most of his energy and focus had gone into flying.

Jagna stood tall, assembled her team, and said, “What happened here today…was a disgrace,” Nightshaft lowered her head, “I thought I had made it perfectly clear to everyone that no one was to leave the base unaccompanied…” Rattrap was about to interrupt, “…without notifying anyone else!” she barked.

“We’re sorry Jag…” the spider monkey began.

“Sorry? That’s not enough, Night. Imagine if we weren’t able to get you back, then what? Especially the new bots! They have no idea of what Khan is capable of…” her voice was starting to break, much like Greyback’s at the trade point. She breathed in deeply, and Greyback put a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, and continued, “Anything like this again and…” she held back a choke, “…and we’ll have some serious problems. We can’t have another close call like that again. They’re too smart for that…’ she said seriously, in reference to the Predacons.

“Jagna,” Optimus stepped forward and caught her gaze, “I’d like to apologise on behalf of Cheetor and Rattrap…” he also caught the rat’s gaze, shooting him a look that obviously meant a long talk later for the rat and the cat. Rattrap shook his head, dreading that moment.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Optimus…” she replied, giving him a smile, “I appreciate your gesture. Back to base you three,” she added to Greyback, Nightshaft and Rattrap. She beckoned Optimus a little further away as Greyback led the wayward bots back home.

“These Predacons weren’t after just anyone. For some reason they want you. And if I know my dear old friend, it’s not just for your body…” she considered him carefully, gazing deeply into his optics, “…Please…” she implored, “…keep yourself and your friends safe. I’m doing all I can, but I need to be in three places at once. Earth has changed, Primal.”

“I thought you didn’t think me trustworthy,” he commented, noting the fact she would not let her own name slip easily when they first met, “why would you tell me this now?”

She gave him an odd look, and replied, “Because it’s something you need to know. But I can’t elaborate. It’s not that I don’t think you trustworthy, but I have my reasons for being cautious…”

“Of course. And thank you,” he added, smiling. She returned that smile, to his surprise, “I hope we can build up that trust and work together well.”

She nodded. “Me too. We’d better return to base,”

He agreed, and offered her a lift. But she declined, “Flying’s OK, but having your feet firmly on the ground ensures less of a splat if you malfunction and fall.” She grinned. They both chuckled, and slowly followed the others in their alt modes.

---

Somewhere above a metallic planet, three bots sat in a dark room, the only light emanating from the light in the hallway, creeping into the room in a solid line of white.

The faces of the occupants could only just be seen by each other. One spoke.

“Is our operative still active?”

“Affirmative. We heard word from them a megacycle ago. The Maximal beast bots intend to infiltrate our ranks.” replied a second bot, drumming his fingers together at his news.

“They will not succeed,” said the third, “so long as the operative remains on course…” he added sternly.

“I supervised the field test myself,” spat back the second, “this operative will not deviate…”

“This time…” interrupted the first, “We learn from our mistakes, though few. Our first Earth unit was overcome and defeated by his incompetence, and the second, well…we were fools to think we could overwrite his heritage.”

“Indeed,” concurred the second bot, almost unwillingly, “such mistakes cannot be repeated. We will rise again in the eyes of the Maximal High Council.”

“Pah! As if they are capable of stopping us? Ultra Magnus is old and out-dated. His methods are ineffective. Even if he does find us…” the third bot began, before being interrupted by the first.

“Even if he finds us, it would be a problem. Ultra Magnus may be weaker than he once was, but there is a reason he is the leading member of the Council. Be cautious…” he warned the ignorant third, who lowered his head.

“And Earth? What is the word from there?” inquired bot number two. The first smiled eerily.

“They are…clueless…”

All three bots began to laugh menacingly, echoing through the outside corridor, bringing all transformers present to a halt.

The space station they inhabited continued its slow orbit around one of Cybertron’s moons, casting a shadow over the planet, foreshadowing its ultimate demise.





-------------------------------------

END (of that chapter)

Now I can finally start Chpt 5! WHOOHOO!

Again, apologies for the length. i dunno what got into me. plus, for any stupid spelling mistakes. But my head hurts enough as it is...

[Blazemane]

(Posted on FF as well):

This was very nice.

Flipping sequence commencing….

Ha ha ha. Now I wonder whose voice is in Silverbolt's head. Megatron's perhaps?

As for Khan's intentions (and identity), you are being effectively secretive. Too effective. Tell me now!

Hee hee hee. Again, good job, and I eagerly await the next part.

[Jagna]

Ha ha ha. No I wonder whose voice is in Silverbolt's head. Megatron's perhaps?

Wouldn't you like to know?

As for Khan's intentions (and identity), you are being effectively secretive. Too effective. Tell me now!

Well, I would, but I'm not so sure myself. LoL!

Thanks, Blaze, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've already started on chpt 5 ^_^

Hopefully it won't be too long, but I've got exams coming up, coursework due and a performance to put together for Wednesday. Eheh.

You shall have to waaaaaait

[Blazemane]

Blazemane wrote:
Ha ha ha. No I wonder whose voice is in Silverbolt's head. Megatron's perhaps?


Wouldn't you like to know?

Does it show?

You shall have to waaaaaait

Nooooooooooooo!
O.k., o.k.

[DarkSpark]

EXCELLENT! I loved your portrayal of the Maximals and Predacons and their individual personalities and relationships (Obertron and Greyback are clearly old foes, lol). I think Webneck and Spanner are my faves so far, Spanner's is so funny and Webneck's design is just cool (when she mentioned honor, i though for a moment she might be a female version of Dinobot, lol, but still cool anyway). I also love the ending where we hear from the dreaded and rarely seen Tripredacus council (what could they be up to now?). I hope we find out what Megatron has up his sleeves as well (no way he's out of the game yet, lol).

And BA and Bolt's interactions were fun as usual too, great chpt Jagna, i look forward to chpt 5

[Jagna]

Yeah, I like Spanner too. Wait until the beginning of chapter five! XD I think you'll approve

I also love the ending where we hear from the dreaded and rarely seen Tripredacus council (what could they be up to now?)

I wish I knew

Thanks very much, DS! Much appreciate thhe input!