Civil War 13: Saga of the Tiger

[7Knight-Wolf]

CCW 13: Saga of the Tiger


Miratron had almost dozed off, but Chris was wide awake when an earsplitting zapping noise echoed throughout the entire factory. Jumping awake, Chris and Miratron saw that the cable connecting Springer and Tigerhawk was glowing blue. “Don’t touch it,” ordered the medical-bot, startling them with his sudden presence. “The operation is nearly complete; Springer’s spark is now transferring some of its energy and getting a response from Tigerhawk.”


“Is Springer still in danger?” asked Miratron, claming herself with effort.



“I’m afraid so,” the med-bot nodded. “When the awakening spark starts beating life again, it may cause a burst of new energy to hit the part of Springer’s spark which is now vulnerable. We can only hope that your friend’s spark is strong enough to take the blast.”



Just then there was a great deafening cry from Tigerhawk. His whole form glowed as life energy coursed through his circuits. Springer’s body convulsed once, then the cable stopped glowing. Dead silence followed. After a few seconds, the medical bot carefully removed the cable from Springer and Tigerhawk, and then drew back to wait.



“Come on, Springer,” said Miratron firmly; “you’re strong.”



Springer’s sky-blue optics opened. “I’m army strong,” he confirmed with a weak laugh.



“I knew you’d come through!” exclaimed Miratron.



Relief coursed through Miratron and Chris like a gushing river of joy. The feeling was so immense that they both felt like cheering!—but at the same time they were exhausted from the anxiety.



“Wait a minute,” said the medical-bot, shattering their thoughts. “This isn’t over yet. Springer, I’m afraid your spark did not give enough energy to sustain the infusion of Tigerhawk’s two sparks. That means the sparks are separating; there will be two bots again—Tigatron and Air Razor.”



As the doctor spoke, there was a great flash of light, and everyone saw Tigerhawk’s body splitting apart. The light was too great to look at, and they turned away. When the flash was over, there were Tigatron and Air Razor laying side-by-side, holding hands, beginning to wake up from their dormancy. His job completed, the medical-bot left the room.



As quickly as the flash of the light, Chris’ sudden relief had disappeared. His mind was once again harassed with the cares and responsibilities he felt were entrusted to him. Standing with his arms folded and his face drawn, the human stated, “Tigerhawk would be much more powerful than two ordinary, separate bots. It’s disappointing, but I hope we can still scrap Megatron.” The bitter tone in Chris’ voice made the remark doubly insulting to the awakened Maximals.



Slowly, and with amaze, Tigatron and Air Razor looked at their surrounding. Tigatron was the first to speak. ”I don’t know who you are,” he said, “or where I am, but I have one thing to say. If you people woke me up to use me as a tool of destruction, I must defend my honor as a Maximal. A Maximal’s goal is not destruction, but peace. Of course, I’ve learned that some fighting may be necessary to bring liberty and harmony.”



“I’m not a Maximal; I’m a man,” snapped Chris. Again, though he had no concept of who this Maximal was, Chris had taken Tigatron’s statement as an insult and it riled up his anger again. “I don’t care about your ridiculous universe-peace thing! Megatron and Crowe have done so much wrong, and they have to pay!!!”



Air Razor held up her hand for silence. She had a claming quality about her that made Chris feel strange. “Justice will always be done whether we want it to or not,” said the falcon-femme. “But justice is not in our hands. If you hurt somebody else, you’re repeating the same thing that made YOU so miserable in the first place; and the results and aftermath never stop. Revenge on a murderer won’t accomplish anything beyond the creation of another murderer.”



Chris said nothing, but his face was flushed as he listened. Air Razor’s words had penetrated deep down into his soul. He had never heard revenge spoken of that way.



“With all that said,” announced Springer; “this is one of those times when fighting for liberty is necessary. I’d better explain what’s going on.” There followed a long explanation of the Cybertronian Civil War and the parts Springer and company had played in it.



When the story was done, Tigatron and Air Razor looked at one another, shell-shocked at how long they had been dormant. Tigatron bowed his head. “No,” he said grimly. Then his voice rose to a roar. “NO!!!” Transforming into beast mode, Tigatron dashed out of the building. Air Razor followed, and there were tears in her optics.



“What’s their problem?” wondered Springer.



“Oh, nothing,” said Miratron sarcastically; “they’re just upset that almost all their old friends are dead, and a war is destroying the places they love. That’s all. No big deal!”



“Ouch,” said Springer. “What a wake-up call.”

*******************

On Cybertron, Topazor and Cheetor listened as Rattrap explained everything he learned from the Crowe Weapon-sellers. “Heh, weel it took me quite a while to earn deir trust. But when dat was done, I had almost complete freedom wit’da Crowe database and records. Dey had connecshuns wit everybody—de military, private dealers, and Airsweep.”



“And the Vok?” asked Cheetor.



Rattrap shook his old head. “Nope, nodda, zilch. No connection with Aliens dat I could find. But about de Terrorists…weel a bunch of little cells started making demands and purchases for the hugest weapons Crowe had t‘offer. First Crowe wouldn’t give ‘em up, but dey was bribed for so much money dat dey gave ‘em up in da end. Those terrorists worked for a mastermind for sure. Dey weren’t Maximal or Predacon; dey musta been Neutrals. Dat was my only clue fer a while. Den I started thinking dat Airsweep is a Neutral too, and she was involved in mercenary scandals in her younga years.”



“So you think Airsweep is the Terrorist Mastermind?” asked Topazor. “Thhat’s absolutely unthinkable! Still, it makes sense; the Attacks gave her the perfect scenario to take over as Empress.”



Rattrap nodded. “I followed da Terrorists and Airsweep around for a long time. Airsweep had several meetings with the Terrorists; never in person but sendin’ an emissary. I also know dat Airsweep plotted with Megatron in prison. Even though her background’s questionable, she exchanged messages wit da Terrorists, and she plotted wit Mega-brain, I ain’t got no solid proof linkin’ her to da Attacks. …I just know it by instinct.”



Cheetor considered. “So the Empress is behind the Terrorism. That’s quite a discovery, but I still think the Aliens are somehow linked to all this. Crowe Mercenaries DID made contact with the Vok, after all.”



Rattrap’s face grew very serious. “I don’t know about the Vok, but I do have one more tidbit of disturbin’ info. It’s da last thing I discovered bufore I was kicked out o‘Crowe. Ya see, Airsweep is related to a certain old nemesis of ours.” Rattrap smiled. “Tarantulas.”



********************

“I have lived for decacycles. I have seen the things I love change and die in the fires of time and hate. I suffered imprisonment for two years, nearly gave my life in the fight against evil, and reawakened to discover the things I love are lost.” Tigatron said these words as he sat outside of Sydney on the crest of a rocky ridge overlooking brushy Australian flatlands drizzled with fresh gray rain. His tail was curled around his clawed feet. His noble feline face was downcast. “I keep trying,” he said mournfully, “but still I fail. This is my saga…this is my fight.”



Air Razor sat beside the tiger. “Maybe you’ve got the wrong idea about your ‘saga,’ ” she suggested. “Tigatron, we’re both quiet and shy, but I want to really talk to you.” She fixed him with her glimmering, beautiful falcon’s eyes. “Failure is a normal part of life that happens to everybody. It’s hard to keep going when you can’t even see your feet on the path ahead of you. But it doesn’t mean you’re lost. Remember when Snow-Stalker died? You struggled because fighting is hard when you know it’s not meant to be this way, and when you’ve lost something. But you’ve got to deal with it the best you can and keep moving. You’ve conquered so many things—when Snow Stalker died, you didn’t quit. When the Aliens captured us, did you give up? No. When the Nemesis was charging toward us, did we give up? No.”



“But this is different,” Tigatron said, his voice a little shaky. “Optimus, Rhinox, and Dinobot are gone. I’ll probably never see Rattrap again. I once hoped to visit Cybertron and restore some of its organic life, but now there is a war there. Everywhere there’s carnage. I’ve lost EVERYHING.”



Air Razor draped her dark wing around her friend’s furry white back. “You haven’t lost me,” she said tenderly. “Fight for me, fight for the Wild. Fight for Truth. That’s your saga: to keep going even when the world throws all its storms against you.”



Tigatron took a deep breath and relaxed. A gentle purr rumbled through his body as he leaned against Air Razor. “I think I’m ready to help Chris now,” he said at length. “I will follow the trails of destiny, like I said before—I will even follow where I cannot see.”



A few minutes later Miratron, Chris, Springer, Tigatron and Air Razor set off for Walden.



********************

Back on Cybertron…



“Airsweep is related to Tarantulas?!” exclaimed Cheetor. “Dude, that’s just weird.” He was silent for a moment, mulling over the news. “Wait a minute,” he said, “Tarantulas has been called Unicron’s Spawn. We know that he’s descended from the robots made by Unicron in the Great War. Tarantulas died a few years ago, but Airsweep lives on. So she and the Terrorists—who you said were neither Maximal nor Predacon—must all be Unicron’s descendents!”



“What does that have to do with the Aliens?” asked Topazor.



“I don’t know exactly,” Cheetor answered. “But I do know this: during the Beast Wars, we had run-ins with the Vok. They broke contact with Earth after sending down Tigerhawk. During one Alien Adventure, Optimus was captured. The Aliens appeared to him in the form of Unicron’s Head.”



“But that was just an illusion, right?” said Topazor. “According to the history records, the Vok can morph into all sorts of shapes—and sometimes appear totally invisible. Just because they masqueraded as Unicron’s Head doesn’t mean they’re connected with Unicron’s Spawn. Maybe we should just forget about the Vok and focus on what we do know—the Empress is a Terrorist. We must make war on her, and shut down Crowe for selling such dangerous weapons.”



“I suppose you’re right,” said Cheetor grimly. “But first let’s drop by Earth and pick up our pals. Rattrap, you in?”



The old rat was still drinking. His eyes were devoid of any regret as he replied, “You two kin go on a hopeless quest; I gonna stay here in happy delusions.”



“Have it your way,” said Cheetor with a contemptuous shrug of his broad shoulders. “Goodbye, Rattrap. You were once a good friend to me. I’m only sorry to see you as the drunken, despairing old animal you are now.” Then Cheetor and Topazor ran back to their ship.

********************

Chris’ group was hiding just outside of Walden, when Cheetor and Topazor arrived. “We parked the ship out of sight,” said Cheetor. “Now, it’s time to make plans.”



Topazor usually liked making plans, but he hardly spoke during the discussion that followed. The reason for this was quite simple: he could not stop staring at Miratron. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Whenever she caught his gaze, however, Topazor felt strange and awkward; he had to look away. It was a confusing and agonizing feeling. Meanwhile Tigatron and Air Razor were also strangely silent.



Chris suggested, “It’s important to shut down Crowe permanently. As hard as it is, I’m ready to temporarily leave Walden and go for the main HQ of Crowe on Cybertron. Then we’ll fight the Empress.”



“Hang on,” said Cheetor; “maybe shutting down Crow isn’t the answer yet. We can’t beat Airsweep without help, and the Maximals and preds are too busy fighting to assist us. …We could use Crowe for our advantage.”



Chris stood up abruptly. “No way,” he said, eyes flaming. “How can you ask me that after what I’ve been through? I was just a stupid kid when Crowe hired me; they hardened me, they made me into a monster! And I came back so many years later and found that nobody remembered the real Chris; my own brother was embarrassed because of me! I will NEVER shake hands with the Mercenaries ever again!!!”



“Chris!”



Everybody turned around to the sound of the familiar voice. It was Jessica, the human citizen of Walden. She ran over into the camp, her long and crimped russet hair flying behind her. “Chris, I’ve been looking everywhere,” she panted. “Megatron declared that you’re all enemies of Cybertron! What’s worse, he’s refusing to give Walden any supplies until he finds you. Some of the townsmen are being threatened with their lives!”



“Change the plans,” ordered Chris immediately. “A few of us have got to stay here and protect Walden. The rest of you can go back to Cybertron and fight the Empress.”



“Agreed,” said Cheetor. “Before we decide who stays and who goes, let’s get some rest.”



When everyone was supposed to be asleep, Topazor was awakened by voices. He heard Miratron saying, “I know you’re hiding something. You didn’t speak a word at the meeting, Tigatron. I’m a people reader; I can tell when there’s a secret.” Topazor rose and saw Tigatron and Miratron talking to each other.



“I’m not hiding anything,” Tigatron lied, and settled back down to sleep in the grass.



Now only Topazor and Miratron stood under the stars, alone. Topazor felt awkward, but also extremely attracted the bot next to him. He started thinking up wonderful compliments to say to her, but he could not speak. Just as Miratron started to walk away, Topazor took her hand and said, “Wait. I want to tell you something.”



“Uh…okay, shoot,” said Miratron, puzzled.



Topazor’s spark was pounding so hard he thought he would not be able to speak. Only after taking a deep breath could he say, “Ever since I met you at the Dome, Miratron, I admired you. …You’re—you’re extremely bright, and I know life has been ####### you…maybe all you need is a good friend. …I-I want to be that friend.”


There was a long silence. Miratron seemed to be struggling with a reply. Then she said in a soft voice, “Wow…um, nobody’s ever talked to me like before.”


“I’m sorry,” said Topazor quickly. “Did I offend you? I should have shut up! Oh no…”


“I’m not angry,” interrupted Miratron. “But…I’m just not the type to…get involved with guys.”


A course of anger came over Topazor like a thunderclap. “It’s Springer, isn’t it?” the wolf-bot growled. “You like him, don’t you? Fine; I understand! Goodbye Miratron. I’m leaving for Cybertron RIGHT NOW!” Deeply hurt, Topazor dashed off toward the ship. He was going to fight the Empress by himself.