Cheetor couldn't tell what Megatron was saying, but his voice had gotten a lot louder, and then one of the cadets started shooting in Cheetor's general direction. Plus, when all of the Predacons turned, it kinda felt like they were all staring at him.
Feeling awkward, the cat lowered his head really slowly to conceal it behind the rock--if they hadn't seen him yet, he didn't want to give away his position with any sudden moves. But they'd probably seen him. That's when he heard Rattrap's treads, and he just noticed him turning behind another boulder.
Rattrap wrote:Looks like we made it just in time for de party. Check dis out. Megatron's got himself a nutty facelift!
"Yup. Bold new look. Same bad taste. But, say, do wanna be rude and cut out of the party early? I think we've missed our chance to help those other two."
Cheetor dared to look up from cover again when he heard the sound of a new weapon; there wasn't any good reason to get caught by surprise. But what he saw surprised him--the other new guy was on the ground with Megatron facing him and smoke just visibly coming out of some kinda shoulder cannons he had gotten with the upgrade. The cannons--were those the fingers from his little front arms?
Eh. That's not what mattered right now. "Scrap that. Maybe this still is a rescue mission, after all. If the dog-bird is on our side, we gotta move before we
know he is, 'cause at that point, he'll be dead. Uh... time for me to fly in?" he asked Rattrap.
* * *
Silverbolt wrote:Silverbolt... Terrorize.
Steelclaw curiously noted the pause in Silverbolt's command. What was he waiting for? Just trying to take in the moment? Afraid of the shift he'd seen Quickstrike perform?
Silverbolt wrote:Hmm. It's not a word I like the taste of.
Oh.
He could empathize--when he had first adapted to changing his own command, the old questions he had about why the Predacons had even chosen something so publicly off-putting and about what in the world they thought they were acknowledging every time they transformed became much more personal. He had eventually let the issue go--it was simply a matter of history, of the intentions of the founders of the Predacon race, of their anger. Centuries later, the Predacons were not the race the Decepticons may have intended them to be, and that could only have been a good thing. The verb was never dropped, likely, because both sides of society simply became used to hearing it. That certainly held true for Steelclaw, anyways--the second and probably more significant reason he had lost his cognitive dissonance over the matter was that he simply grew used to it. It became habitual to say terrorize. To say the word did not actually change his character, and in time it... essentially became nothing more than a sound.
But what did this say about Silverbolt? If Silverbolt had been a Predacon in the past, then this just proved Steelclaw's own feelings about the "nature" of the two races even further. But in all likelihood, since he was a protoform on a Maximal ship, he had been a Maximal. His time with the Predacons could, very likely, be difficult. But it was always good to have a little more level-headedness on the team.
Megatron wrote:And it would appear that company has arrived. Predacons; destroy those Maximals!
Steelclaw withdrew his rifle from subspace as soon as Megatron told the Predacons to engage the enemy. He wouldn't admit it, but for the moment, he didn't even see any Maximals, and he wondered if Megatron was, essentially, freaking out. But then he finally caught sight of something red, silver and black riding towards them on a set of wheels. He couldn't even tell who he was looking at; they were definitely still a ways away.
Silverbolt wrote:Why? He is not attacking.
Steelclaw couldn't completely stop himself from cringing. He subtly turned his head to Megatron to see if his fears were unfounded. And the next moment, Silverbolt was thrown completely off of his feet; he could see the red-orange of the explosion light up the surrounding terrain.
Megatron wrote:Never question my orders! Now go!
The next moment, Steelclaw was at Silverbolt's side, offering him a hand. "Come on, then," he said. "One important detail we might have left out of the orientation: we're at war here. The Maximals' approach itself is a tactical threat. You alright?"
* * *
Earth Literature
-Chapter 3,710: In Wagner's account of this Norse story, Wotan tries to react against fate practically as soon as hears the foreboding prophecy from Erda that his time will come to an end. He sees the source of this threat as the curse that Alberich has put on the ring, and so he tries to find a way to keep the ring out of Alberich's grasp without breaking his own contract with the giant Fafner to whom he has given the gold as payment for the construction of Valhalla. In time, he comes to realize that the downfall of the gods is out of his hands to change. This realization brings about contradictory reactions--he jovially tries to convince the giant to give the ring to Alberich at one point in a grand sort of acceptance. At another point, he sits despondently in his kingdom and hopes only that his own daughter will give the ring back to its original owners. But even when the gold is taken back and nature is restored, Wotan's power can not be restored with it, and all that remains is for fate to--
Dinobot recoiled as his clawed finger was shocked by the energy field. He had expected a defense system, but he hadn't realized it would be so painful. Taking a pace back, he charge up his optic lasers and fired at the metallic base of the container. But these reflected off at a diagonal and burned into the wall to his side.
Fine then. Perhaps the only way to defeat this system was not to try to overcome its defenses, but to simply let it use them. Dinobot cast a glance around the room for anything sizable enough to throw into the energy field. There were a few things here and there, but most of them were bolted down, like the panel in the wall for a storage compartment, or the computer terminal to his left. Maybe he could find something a bit more accessible and still a bit more weighty, elsewhere.
Dinobot ran to the entrance to see the hall, and he looked down one direction. Nothing good yet. Then he turned the other direction.
He pulled himself back into the room as soon as he saw the trio of spiders. Perhaps they had not heard him getting shocked earlier if they were not attacking, but whenever he really got the energy field working, they were going to hear him anyways. Moving quickly, he pulled out his sword, entered the two commands to close the door to the room and then to lock it, and then he stabbed the panel through with his sword (why that always worked defied his limited mechanical common sense, but in any event, the door didn't slide back open, and he took that as a good sign).
Working frantically, he rushed over to the panel the wall, dug his sword in and began carving across the top. Once he had this slab of metal, maybe there would be something inside, too, that he could use...
I understand... you are, after all, a predacon.
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