I am posting this first edition of my alternate spin-off for beast wars as a celebration of my 400th post! yay for me!
as some of you may have nticed iv been working on this fic for a while now, and have been asking around for seemingly menial details all over the place. rest assured they are not meaningless.
as i have not posted many fics before, i supose i should debrief you on my writing technique: all over the place at times. although i may seem inconsistent, i strave to make my writing match the mood of the scene. i may write in long sections, but i write fully descriptive and fast pace stories, as im sure you'll find out...if you read it...please do!
i apologise in advance for any changes i have made to existing characters. not from BW. but ull see. i have tried my best to look up alli could about te characters to have them suit the story.
i also apologise to the BETA reader i will inevitably be sending this to. it is looooooong....its 14 pages in microsoft word!
i would like to thank Silver, Unv and Velociberg for the title names that WILL be used in later chapters. also thanks bwint for giving me a place to put this!
brace yourselvs for a long read...enjoy!
Chapter 1:-
Optimus Primal was sitting in the custom-made command chair (built for him because of his size) in the control centre of their new ship. It was certainly not like the Axalon. Probably because they had lived in it for so ling during the Beast Wars, the Axalon became home. Cheetor was certainly unhappy about his quarters, which were big but grey and empty, but by now the cat had matured and kept quiet about it. Primal respected that. Rattrap however, in his usual irritable manner was complaining out loud about the new controls being too confusing, and that the chairs didn’t spin when he wanted them to. I suppose everyone misses the Axalon, thought Optimus. Rhinox, on the other hand, was thrilled with the latest instalments of light-weight and more fluid technology at his disposal. His rhino beast form gave him even more strength, but after a while a ‘bot gets tired of doing all the heavy lifting.
Rattrap could hardly believe that he was on this slagging mission. After that strenuous three years on Earth, why on Cybertron were they going back? Sure, to recover stasis pods and check up on the Autobots, but he had been looking forward to an early retirement from espionage and exploration and buy a nifty little shack on the outskirts of Chrome County. Until he was sucked back into the black hole of Optimus’ guilt-tripping speeches of 'We’re a team, Rattrap. We’ll always be a team' yada yada yada…It’s always me… “And why aren’t the others coming with us?” he heard himself blurt out, “What ‘bout bird-dog and webs? What’re they doing that’s do important they couldn’t risk their mudguards to come with us?”
“Because, Rattrap, it only takes a few troops to perform a routine check of the planet.” Replied Optimus, calmly. But Rattrap cut across him before the steel gorilla could continue.
“Waddya mean routine? This is the first ‘routine’ mission back to that dirt ball, and how do we know this hunk-a-new-junk is even gonna get us there and back?” He was starting to sound hysterical, and they all understood. Last time they went through that anomaly they were intercepted by a group of rebel Predacons on the prototype ship Darksyde, crash-landed on an unknown-at-the-time planet, and began the Beast Wars. Granted, the Warpship Hercules was the most advanced craft ever built for inter-dimensional travel, and it had been tested in the most sophisticated simulation chambers known in the galaxy. But the former Axalon crew knew better than any of the top scientists in Cybertropolis that anomalies such as the space/time warp they had travelled through were too unpredictable, even for science and probability.
For a while, Optimus said nothing. Then at his next thought he huffed. Silverbolt had been made head of security at Cybertropolis Maximum Security Correction Centre (CMSC for short. ‘Bots didn’t bother with the last ‘C’), while Blackarachnia had been made chief interrogator for the questioning of Megatron (funny, being a former Pred herself), who was placed in the highest security vault. So those two couldn’t come either. Besides, Optimus believed they would have been reluctant to join them, especially the former Predacon.
Then he turned to Rhinox and said, “Well, Rhinox, as the humans say: full speed ahead!” And at that, Rhinox engaged the hyper drive; Cheetor initiated the thrusters to full power; and Rattrap converted the transwarp drive to the engines. Within seconds, they reached their destination to find that familiar wormhole, and they were stretched like rubber through it…
----
On Cybertron, CMSC HQ was operating at maximum security. Surveillance cameras were placed all over the site, with guard ‘bots placed at every entrance and exit of the premises. They all looked very solemn and miserable, but that was probably because they were guarding the cells to some of the most notorious and dangerous criminals on Cybertron. One guard-‘bot that stuck out from the rest was the head of security. He was different not only in his personality traits (which all of the guards found irritating), but also in appearance. He was mostly grey and silver, with an enormous torso plate which looked like it had blades sticking out of it in a circular pattern. His face was very earth-dog-like, with a black mask around his luminous yellow optics. What was most noticeable about him, though, was the huge wings protruding from his back. They didn’t get in the way as often as the other guards thought they would. In fact, they tucked away quite nicely to enable him to fit through doorways. This ‘bot was given this post given his experience on a planet somewhere, most century guards were told, as no-one knew that much about him: he seemed to keep to himself. Except when he was with that very hot, very creepy interrogator. Multicoloured, most of her co-workers thought she would be pleasant to work with, but that was another case of ‘never judge a book by its cover’. She was snappy, rude, and often gave the impression that she would leap out of a dark corner and attack them. Those two would always be seen in the cafeteria together during their corresponding breaks or after hours. It was very sickening. This guy thought he was Casanova, and she the infamous femme-fatale.
The bird-dog made his way to large steel-reinforced door, with multiple locks and access panels. He approached a microphone and it demanded, “Name and access code required” and the ‘bot replied, “Silverbolt, 249-443-297”. After a series of clicks and whirrs, the door opened slowly for him. He entered a large, grey room that contained only four other Maximals, and one Predacon. He took a deep breath and continued slowly towards a chair which hosted Blakarachnia, and as he went past brushed her with his wing, expecting a reaction. He got one: a stern look from the widow as she was in the middle of looking through some files. Two of the three other Maximals were standing at the doorways, and the other next to Blackarachnia. Silverbolt growled at him, only to get a harsh “Sh!” from his beloved.
“Well well well, Barney, it seems your reputation for being a megalomaniac far outlives that than on Earth,” said the femme, “in fact, I’m very impressed, although I daresay I could have been a little more creative when you raided the chambers of Courtship. Very important ‘bot, you should’ve used a Comet P-90 to open the locks…” the guard next to her snorted. Everyone knew that Blackarachnia was a former Predacon, and were wondering what she was doing at CMSC if she wasn’t in a cell herself. And Wheeler had made it quite clear he resented working with (well, next to) her. She ignored him, and continued, “…come on Grape Face, we’ve been at this for seven hours, now. You're wasting even more time than if you were trying to de-brief Waspinator.” The bot sitting opposite her looked up, his manic expression still unchanged since the beginning of the session. He was sitting in a large chair, with restraints on his ankles, wrists, across his stomach, chest and neck, with an extra high-powered restraint around his dragon-head hand. He had not moved a gear for 3 days, and the High Council had insisted the interrogation continue, despite what they were getting out of him: nothing. Then, for the first time in a long while, he spoke.
“Indeed, my dear spider, I could have used that delicate instrument on such a densely guarded door. Would’ve cost nothing on the black market…” the focus of his optics landed in her eyes “…it all comes down to this…it all comes down to this…mediocre components of something lesser. And greater…” That was the last thing Megatron ever said within the walls of the Cybertropolis Maximum Security Correction Centre…
----
It seemed like mere seconds for the Hercules to pull itself through the wormhole. In actual fact, it took 0.3 seconds for it and its crew to regain their shape. Inter-space travel did that to you.
“Computer, what is our destination?” called a weary, slightly askew-looking Optimus. The rest of the crew were still o their feet, but felt as if they had just been attacked by a swarm of cyber-bees. The ones that exploded on impact. The ship’s computer, Sentinel 2, responded.
“Now in orbit around third mass of heat and rock from star ‘Sun’ of the Milky Way Galaxy, Galactic Sector Z-Z-9 Plural Z Alpha…Earth.” The Maximals gazed on the blue-and-green planet with a strange feeling, that seemed to warm their circuits. It was almost a fondness for it, a longing to once again place their optics upon the beauty of the landscape: the trees; the rivers; the mountains, everything that you would not see on Cybertron High St, was on Earth. Rattrap became aware of a very sheepish grin on his face, which he quickly wiped off before anyone else noticed it. Then Rhinox spoke:
"You know, I never thought I'd say this…but I'd give anything right now to just forget about technology and…go for a stroll…" To this, Optimus chuckled.
"Not just yet old friend. We need to contact the Elders and report a successful and safe arrival."
"Did you just say, 'safe'?" groaned Rattrap, who was finally regaining the feeling in his limbs. Optimus got up and walked over next to Cheetor, who had a detachable microphone on his head an was fiddling with frequency modulators attempting to get an inter-stellar signal through the wormhole they had just come out of. As soon as Optimus reached him he leapt out of the chair, in the process choking himself on the wire of the microphone. The crew snorted as the cat tried to free himself, humiliation surging through him like an energon build-up. Poor cat, thought Optimus, helping his young friend get untangled. Rattrap was practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. His enjoyment was short-lived, however, as he received a well-deserved kick in the skid plate from his very source of entertainment. He cursed the cat under his breath as he stood up.
Optimus put the com into a small plug on the side of his head that was clearly his left aural detector. Turning on the speakers, he found the right 'channel' as it were, and relayed a message through the microphone:
"This is Optimus Primal, commander of the Warp Ship Hercules calling spaceport tower. Please respond, over." There was crackling, and some sort of short but high-pitched screech coming from the console. Everyone stood still, silently listening to that strange sound. "Tower, repeat: this is Optimus Primal of the Warp Ship Hercules, do you read me?" He was almost shouting it, the crackling was so loud. The sound was heard again, and then…
"Spaceport Tower to Warp Ship Hercules. Apologies. The transwarp signature got a bit scrambled. Report you status, over." The voice that the crew was hearing, that of Jumpstart: the tower's main operator; was lower than usual. They had met the car transformer in person before their mission, and the black and red 'bot explained to them that he would be monitoring their progress via deep-space telemetry waves caused by the rift that would be opened after they travelled through the anomaly. Thinking nothing of it other than a strained signal, Optimus replied in a cheery voice.
"Report: successful journey through transwarp space. We're all OK here…for the most part…" he said amusedly as Rattrap was still rubbing where he had landed and Cheetor was still massaging his neck. "All systems normal. Awaiting command, over." The same crackling high-pitched sounds came through the com.
"Orders as normal. Proceed Primal. Report back in 72 megacycles. Over and out." And the com went silent, except for one more high-pitched frequency.
"Heh! That was charming! Man, has that guy gone through the smelter or something, he sure ain't as chirpy as he was when we met him." There was a mutter of agreement from the others.
"Probably rust." joked Cheetor. That lightened the mood a bit. "I can't wait to get down there. It'd be great to see Jack and Una again." They all couldn't wait. Time might have flown by for them, but three years is a long time, they all thought to themselves. But they couldn't risk going through an anomaly in an untested ship and end up with no means of getting home…again.
"Well Rhinox, start the landing gear. It's time to say hi to some old friends…" He sat back down and ordered Sentinel 2 to prepare the shields for atmospheric heat protection. So began their descent…
----
As the mighty ship burned like a star in the atmosphere, there was activity in the bushes, the trees, the water, and the clouds below it. Several whirrs and clicks disturbed the tranquil serenity of the surface. All was well for the regular occurrences of the goings-on of Earth. Things were about to take a turn…
----
Everything was going well. Too well. No, come on, this is no time to be negative. Optimus was a 'bot who liked to keep thing positive, and since everyone else on the ship was so pleased with the mission so far he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Touchdown on planet's surface in 30 nano-clicks…27…20…" Every 'bot on board held their breath. "We've landed."
"Really?" said a very confused Cheetor, "I didn't feel a thing!" Indeed, the landing was so smooth that not even the motion sensors detected the contact with the ground. Impressive.
"Good, isn't it? I installed the ultra-sensitive landing gear myself!" beamed Rhinox, "It's designed to calculate the sensitivity of the surface using the bio-mass sensors on the exterior starboard hull. Few numbers, calculations, and the ship's descent is slowed to the extent than vibrations are subjected to a minimum of a feather landing on water." He was grinning broadly. He certainly was proud of his contribution to the designs and manufacture of the Hercules. In fact, most of Cybertron's greatest minds were stumped until Rhinox stepped in. What would they ever have done without him?
"Let's get ready to embark team. It's time to find those pods and bring the home." With a small cheer from his crew, they all made their way to the elevators (they had all done their best to have some of the same features from the Axalon installed), and made their way down to Earth.
----
As soon as there was enough room for him, Cheetor transformed into beast mode and leapt off the elevator pad and ran in a complete circle around the ship. He hadn't had the chance to run like this in a long time. Optimus chuckled to see him enjoy the outdoors again. He transformed himself, feeling a bit odd but also rather content to be in beast mode after such a long time. They didn't need to of course, but it felt good all the same. Rattrap was taking in the all-too familiar landscape of what felt like his home for close to three years. He didn't tell anyone this, though. Shaking his head, he took a small pad from his subspace.
"Begin scan for stasis pods. And make it snappy, I ain't got all year!" A small satellite protrude from the top of the pad and whirred to indicate it had begun scanning. While they waited, the Maximals just sat around, and did all the stuff they used to do, like run, sit and smell the roses. So many good memories here. Just as many bad. Finally Rattrap's on-board computer had results.
"Zero stasis pods located within 30 mile radius. Request further range extension."
"WHAT? Aw, come on! What gives?" Rattrap was not a happy rat. With this so-called new-and-improved sensor, they would have found anything that even resembled a pod within a 70 mile radius.
"Hm. Well, if we're no getting anything here, we may as well move elsewhere. Cheetor, do a perimeter search. We should be OK but you can never tell with this planet, can you?" joked Optimus. As the feline zoomed off, Optimus took the time to just look around once more. His gaze was diverted towards the river canyon. He shuddered a bit. Many memories arose from that canyon. A safe refuge; and a death-trap. Then he heard a click as his com-link was activated, and a rather distressful-sounding Cheetor spoke with an exasperated tone.
"Cheetor to Optimus, come in." There was a loud crackling and some white noise over the radio as the 'bots struggled to hear each other over the two-way link.
"What is it Cheetor, is anything wrong?" replied Optimus. There was more crackling as he carefully listened to what Cheetor had to say.
"Everything's pretty…okay…-ig-Bot…I've got…ggr…-gging radio…I think…come and see this…" Why the slag was there interference? These were allegedly the newest-most-improved com devices built specially for high magnitude energon interference, and yet they were already having problems barely 10 cycles on the planet which had stabilized its energon deposits long ago…
"Hang tight, Pussycat, we're on our way!" Rattrap yelled into the com.
"Not s…loud! Converge on…ordinates…Ch…out!"
----
Close by, a small vixen taking refuge in the shade of the jungle trees woke up from its afternoon kip, and pricked up its ears. There was something coming towards it. It uncurled its body and leapt to its feet, its paws lightly padding the leaves it was nestling on. Its ultra-sensitive nose picked up something unfamiliar, something…tinny…Alarmed, it made a small barking noise. One yelp, then a howl. At this, a lynx quietly jumped out of the tree above the vixen and softly landed right in front of it, staring it down. After a moment's deliberation of what to make of each other, they both headed carefully and quietly towards where the smell was coming from. They were stopped dead in their tracks as a huge strange-looking feline leapt out of the bushes at them. They made startled whining sounds and darted back to where they had come from. The strange creature tilted its head to the left, squinting its eyes, and then it spoke:
"What? Is it my breath? I had that checked!" Cheetor called after the little furies in vain. "Aw, slag. Way to go on first impressions…" He pricked his ears and turned around to see his comrades land next to him. Rhinox and Rattrap had been riding on Optimus' back in flight mode. The big gorilla-bot transformed and landed on his feet very noisily, resulting in a frenzy of small animals to scurry away from there. The unfitting transformers looked around the familiar jungle-scape, wondering what Cheetor had found. He had not said much since their arrival, which had been a few minutes, and it was getting on Rattrap's chrome copper nerves.
"Well Spots? I don't see nothing here worth dragging our tails into this slag-forsaken ant farm!" he said, squashing a beetle. Cheetor raised an eyebrow ridge.
"Wanna bet, Rat-face? Check this out…" He put his paw on a disturbed patch of earth, and pressed down hard. Within seconds, the ground began to shake. All four Maximals had o jump out of the way as a spike shot out form the ground, cracking the crust of the floor they were standing on. It rose to be twice the height of Optimal Optimus, but was as thin as a sheet of pressed steel. At the very top of the pole was what looked like an iron claw. As soon as the pole stopped rising, several clicks and whirrs ended a long procession, and that purple claw suddenly opened up and stared spinning. The Maximals looked on in awe. Then the silence was broken by a loud piercing noise that made the birds in the canopy above them fall of their branches.
"Did it do that before?" asked Optimus. Cheetor looked back at him sheepishly.
"Well…no…" A shifty look from the others prompted a good excuse. "But hey, come on, it was halfway going up when I saw it…and it was giving off a Pred signature." At this, all the Maximals' optics widened. This was pretty bad. At that very moment, the claw gave off another screeching sound that made all four 'bots fall to their knees, clutching their heads. After what seemed like minutes, it stopped, and they slowly and unsteadily rose to their feet. The claw was no longer spinning. Put from the middle of it protruded a smaller pole with a red light blinking on and off. They stared at it for a while.
"What the slaggin' heck is that?" inquired Rattrap "Is there something on the radio?"
"Not quite…" Rhinox replied. He squinted at the thing, whatever it was…wait…"It's an alarm beacon! Let's move!"
"Everybody back to the ship!" Within seconds of him giving his command, Optimus and his crew were running (or flying) back to the Hercules. But before they reached the edge of the forest, a huge ten foot titanium wall seemed to sprout suddenly from the ground. They screeched to a halt before colliding with this unusual obstacle.
"Routine mission? Routine my shiny metal skid plate!" The Maximals started to make their way to the right of the wall, only to have another one pop up out of nowhere. Eventually, there was a perimeter of about 100m around them, with no way out…except up.
"All aboard!" cried Optimus. He transformed as quickly as possible into flight mode, and Rhinox, Rattrap and Cheetor all jumped onto his back. Headed skywards, Optimus powered up his jets and zoomed off. Just at the top layer of the canopy, an electric shield formed a dome above them. Before he could take evasive action, Optimus had crashed into the force shield and in an instant, the pilot and his passengers were caught up in what felt like a good-old energon surge, and they fell to the ground. They were knocked into stasis lock.
----
Optimus woke up to find himself in restraints. He hurriedly looked around him to find his comrades shared his dilemma. Rhinox and Rattrap were still out cold, but he could see Cheetor just opposite him, in a huff. Once he caught Optimus' gaze, he quickly turned away.
"Sorry, Big-Bot…I shouldn't have touched that thing…" He sounded really upset. Optimus was annoyed, but he couldn't blame Cheetor entirely.
"It's OK, Cheetor. I have a feeling that beacon would have gone off regardless. I don't blame you."
"Speak for yourself." came a weary voice from next to them. Perfect. Rattrap had only just come back online and already he was making the situation worse.
"Shut up Rattrap." Optimus said simply and firmly. "All we need to ask ourselves now is who or what out that thing there…"
"Let's stick with whom…" came Rhinox's groggy voice from the other side of Optimus. He had come back online too. Good. Now that all four of them were fully functional, they could deliberate on what just happened. "That was definitely of Predacon design…" Rhinox continued, "…it gave off al the right frequencies for an alarm beacon, but no noise…this seems oddly familiar, dontcha think?" Optimus agreed. Something was up, and as soon as he broke free of his bonds, he intended to find out. But no matter how he struggled, regardless of his size and strength, he could not free himself. His weapons had all been disarmed, and it seemed as though the others' had been as well…Prime…
Just then, they heard a branch snapping under the weight of something. And out of the darkness came an enormous boa constrictor, and behind it what looked like a half-bat, half-ape creature. The Maximals stared as the fully-organic creatures stopped in a line, and then parted again to make way for a sleek, black cobra. These couldn't be organic creatures, could they? They had never seen the likes of that particular chimera. The cobra then moved slowly and silently towards Optimus. Its head was level with his, and it menacingly hissed and rolled its forked tongue at him.
"Greetingssssss friendssssss…" Optimus' optics widened to the size of small boulders. "Sssssooo sssssorry about the…accommodationsssss." The voice was female, and she was mocking Optimus with her sarcastic tone and squinting slit eyes. "But I'm afraid you have tresssspasssed on our ground. We do not take kindly to missserable Maxxximal ssssnooperssss…"
"Hey! Who're you calling a snooper?!" retorted Rattrap. Optimus glared at him for silence.
"We do apologise, but we weren't snooping or anything like…" but she cut across him.
"Ssssssilenccce!!! You are not like the ressst of usss are you? No…you do not ssseem to have organic beasssst modessss…" Completely ignoring Rhinox's "Well, actually…", she slithered around Optimus threateningly. "Who sent you?!" the femme spat, "What isss that fffilthy little fffeline up to thissss time, eh?" Cheetor looked around, a look of confusion painted vividly on his face. The cobra was clearly losing patience. "Fine. Sssserpentia, TERRORIZZZZE!" And in a flurry of clicks and whirrs, standing before the Maximals in the place of the thin black cobra was a tall thin femme-bot. The flaps of the cobra's head protruded from the back of her own, whilst the eyes transferred to her abdominal area. Mush of the scaly skin stretched tightly over her body, and the tail wrapped around her middle as a sort of belt. She grinned cruelly at them, revealing long, sharp, poisonous fangs that seemed to glow inside her mouth. "Hmm…I think we are capable of extracting the information ourssselvessss. What do you think Obertron?" she turned to the half-bat half-ape behind her, who cried out the activation code with a deep, harsh and menacing voice. The bat wings were embedded into his arms, which remained ape-like, with the exception of long clawed hands. His enormous bat ears covered his groin, whilst his remaining gorilla head ended up on his chest, and his feet were creepy little pointed toes. His optics were small and black, and he had a cute little snout that revealed small pointed teeth. Despite those tiny features, he had an overpowering presence, even for Optimus.
"I believe so!" he cried with a very dramatic tone. Serpentia and the boa rolled their eyes/optics. His vowels were very pronounced, and his accent was very 'RP English'. "Perhaps a little persuasion first?" All three Predacons grinned.
"Ooo, goody…" cackled the boa constrictor, speaking for the very first time. He had a very 'ug' voice, as if his speech circuits were impaired or damaged or didn't exist at all. Unlike his serpent comrade, this snake was as think as a tree trunk, and his length seemed immeasurable. He wordlessly transformed to reveal a 'bot almost the size of Optimus. The snake head acted as a head helmet, much like super-beast Megatron. He was very blocky, and looked almost exactly like an old Decepticon the only difference was the moss-green snake skin that covered his torso, legs and arms. His hands had long, curved claws that seemed to be formed by fangs from his beast mode, and his clicked and camped them threateningly at Rattrap. "Mmmm…rat-chops." The he suddenly lunged out and yelled, "SMASH! Maximals must…destroy!! Gearcrush…CLOBBER MODE!!!!" but his rant was short-lived as Serpentia miraculously rose several feet into the air (using her beast mode tail as a jack) and slapped him hard across the face.
"Mindless fool!" scorned Obertron "Do you not realise that we may need these foul demons?!" The Maximals were taken aback. Foul demons? Are these 'bots joking or what? "These abominations may hold the key to our End Game…dost thou not see it?"
"What…see?" Gearcrush replied. Obertron buried his face in his claws, muttering to himself.
"Sssssilenccce both of you!" spat Serpentia, "Let'sss fight when we're drunk. Sssimpletonssss." She pulled out a long energon blade, about the length of her arm. "Now my namelessss nemesssissss, tell me all your sssecretssss or I sshhall jussst have to get nasssstyyy…" Thoroughly enjoying herself now, the femme walked past each of the Maximals, eyeing them mockingly as she fingered her sword from vase to tip; slowly and menacingly.
"We don't have any secrets to tell you…" Optimus began hurriedly, seeing her blade going dangerously close to Rattrap's neck, "We are transformers, like you, but with different body structures…" but at that, all three of their captors lunged at them, and the utmost fury was upon their faces. Then Serpentia screamed bloody murder.
"YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE USSSS!!!" If robots were capable of it, spit would be flying from her mouth as she yelled. If that wasn't bad enough, the blade seemed to be increasing in power somehow. But the next thing she said was quieter and more venomous, which made it all the more frightening "How dare you…" she had raised herself to Optimus' optic-level, and was staring straight through him. "To the Pitt with you...Maxxximal…"
She placed the tip of the blade against his left shoulder, held it there for a while, absorbing the fear in his eyes; then…
"AAARGH!" Optimus' cry was hoarse and riddled with pain as Serpentia lashed the blade across his chest, leaving a gash that exposed his insides and caused a small but painful energon surge.
"Big-Bot!", "Knock it off yeh lousy little…", "Leave him alone!" the others yelled simultaneously, overlapping each other like motors on a busy highway. Gearcrush lunged in on Rhinox and grabbed his throat, while Obertron swooped in on Cheetor and Rattrap.
"Have no fear…" he said in a very monotonic voice, "You're next." Staring blankly into Rattrap's optics, he raised his hands, and massive inch-thick, foot-long claws made of pure energon slowly crept out from his ugly fingertips. Rattrap tried to yell, but his audio emitters seemed to catch in his throat, and he would have been drowned out by Cheetor's protesting screams. Just as he felt one of those horrible claws going into his stomach, a small growl seeped slowly into his aural sensors. He didn't even notice that the energon was no longer inside him, but had retracted back into Obertron's hands as he turned and hissed at the source of the noise. He took one final look around him. Optimus was writhing in pain at the gash in his chest and Rhinox was still pinned to the wall by Gearcrush and Serpentia. Then he turned to Cheetor, whose optics had widened to the extent that he had lost his forehead as Obertron retreated into a bush. Then he blacked out, and Cheetor began to struggle against his bonds. Wherever the bat-monkey had gone, he had seen something, and Cheetor was pretty sure he had too.
----
Upon Obertron's return the Maximals had been unbound, and were now all lying on the floor in pain.
"Where havvve you been Wither Wingssss?" hissed Serpentia.
"I heard a sound, you wanton writher," he replied snidely, "I believe that scouting and reconnaissance was your duty, oaf." he said to Gearcrush, who merely grunted in reply. He was too busy 'crushing' Cheetor in a headlock. The cat's circuits were fritzing under the pressure. The other three were too weak to do anything to help him or themselves. Then the same noise that Obertron had detected was heard again, this time louder and more mechanical. For the first time since their arrival, the Predacons became less relaxed and dominant. Their gears grinded with the tension of moving so slowly and cautiously, soon to be disturbed by the clanking of metal on metal as the same lynx that had eluded Cheetor leapt out of the bushes from which Obertron had emerged. Gears grinded and circuits sizzled as the new transformer landed on top of Serpentia and pinned her to the ground with two small daggers into he elbow joints. The snake yelled a distorted cry of pain and rage, accompanied by Gearcrush's war cry as he and the ape-bat lunged for them. Amazingly, they were thrown off target by a small canine-looking creature that hurtled into the side of Obertron, causing a domino of metal components as the Predacon duo landed in a heap on the floor. The little vixen collapsed just opposite them, having exhausted herself by the last knock-out. Serpentia and the lynx were rolling about on the disturbed shrubbery, at each other's throats when the lynx cried out, "Vixen! Watch your six!" The little canine at up and turned just in time to dodge a missile fired by Obertron, who was hovering several feet in the air, flapping his arm-wings and firing quasar missiles form a cannon embedded in his chest. With a low growl the fox said, "Vixen…MAXIMISE!" and in an instant a small and slender femme-bot propelled off the ground and knocked the chimera into a rock face behind him.
Serpentia was buried under a pile of rocks for the time being, and the lynx had rushed over to Optimus, who was still laying face-up on the ground. She pulled out what looked like a large needle, and rammed it into his chest with full force. He grunted in pain, but it slowly started to ebb away. She kept a hold of the needle as she looked him full on in the face. She has a very pretty face, Optimus couldn't help but notice. Her optics were small and black with crystallised white pupils that focused in on his own. "Keep that there," she said with a hurried and warning but still pleasant voice, "It'll speed up your intern---AAAGH!" She was abruptly cut off by an attack from behind as Gearcrush yanked her from her standing position and had her in a body crushing position 7 feet off the ground. The gargantuan Predacon chuckled stupidly as she wriggled and writhed in his grip. He was enjoying seeing the Maximal female suffering in his clutches.
A barrage of firepower hit the mech in the back as Cheetor, Rhinox and Rattrap were back on their feet. Gearcrush dropped the femme from his arms and turned to face the much tinier Maximals. Before he could return fire with an enormous bazooka from his subspace, the lynx and Optimus joined in the fray, hitting the huge 'bot with bullets, quasar beams and missiles. Serpentia blasted her way out of the rocky blanket.
"Ssssslag! Retreat, you mindlesssss minionssss!" and all three Predacons fled the scene, injured and cursing as they ran/flew. Optimus gave the small femme panting next to him rubbing her neck a look of thanks, and she returned it with a weak smile.
"Hey, uh, cat-person!" called Rattrap, "I think yer friend needs a little help, here…" Indeed, the vixen…Vixen…was roughed up quite a bit. The lynx ran to her side and injected her with the same substance she had Optimus just a few minutes earlier. The lights flickered slowly on in Vixen's optics.
"Thanks…" she mumbled weakly.
"Hang in there, cubby, we'll get you back home." She turned to the others, "Thanks for the back-up…as I was trying to tell you, this stuff enhances your internal repairs, even when not in beast mode. Nice, huh?" she said, holding up the empty vial. The four mechs stared at her confusedly. The two femmes stared back awkwardly. Then Cheetor broke the silence by saying, "Uh…thanks for the save?"
"Yeah, sorry we took so long," she seemed to be debating whether or not to continue speaking, "At first we thought you were Predacon hostiles, and then when those three showed up we thought it was just some ploy to get us to fall into another one of their traps…"
"We're really sorry!" Vixen cut across, "It's just…with newcomers you can never be too sure…"
"Oh sure, 'cause a couple o' 'bots walking through the jungle isn't something you see every…" he stopped as soon as he realized what he was saying. Then came the inevitable, "Shut up, Rattrap!"
"Now, to get home…" the lynx stated, almost like an order. But Optimus stopped her.
"I'm sorry, but there are a few things I think we need to clear up here, I mean, you are Maximals as I can see but…who are you?" She merely looked at him. Then she smiled sweetly and said:
"Call me Accinon. And there'll be plenty of time for pleasantries when we get back to base, if you don't mind," she added a little more sternly, "We nee to get Vixen here some repairs; that stuff isn't miracle oil, you know." So she transformed into beast mode and hoisted her comrade onto her back.
They walked for about 30 metres until they reached the walls that had popped out of nowhere. Rattrap was about to make a snide comment about how the femme was as stuck as they were…until she knocked at a certain point in the wall that caused it to retract as suddenly and easily as they had emerged before.
"Crude Pred design…you gotta love 'em!" Rattrap's spirit was momentarily crushed.
"Would you like a lift? I can easily fly both of you to your base if you…"
"Oh no, we can manage, thanks!" replied Vixen, hoarsely.
"Hush, you! Get some rest, you'll need it for the journey back." Optimus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was actually going to make her injured comrade endure the journey to…wherever they were going? That was something he would not tolerate, however long he'd known that femme.
"Please, I insist," he said firmly, "You both seemed o have obtained some damage so…" but Accinon did not appear to be listening. Instead, she put two fingers and her mouth and blew the most deafening whistle any of them had every heard. After about 10 seconds of getting their hearing back, a small speck appeared on the horizon. As it came closer, Rhinox pulled out his chain guns as a precaution. But Accinon told him to relax, for as the thing drew closer, it revealed itself as a hover-deck. It had all the bells and whistles, including seats.
"All aboard?" Accinon carefully placed Vixen on a stretcher, hopped onto the platform herself, and turned to the new arrivals. "You are welcome to come with us if you want. Personally, I wouldn't want to hang around and wait for the terrible trio to come back looking for me with payback fresh in their minds." Optimus surveyed the hover-deck. It looked sturdy enough to hold even him, but something concerned him. Rhinox worded his thoughts for him.
"Aren't you prone to attack on this thing?" he asked the lynx, "It would seem like you're sitting ducks out there with no kind of protection."
"We have our ways." Accinon replied simply. "Our defenses are far superior to what the Preds have…at the moment…" she muttered aside. The mechs did not look convinced. "All right then, I'll show you…" She pulled a switch to her left that caused a force field to form directly around and above the hover-deck. Rhinox stared in awe at this spectacle. He had only brushed the surface of smaller-scale personal force shields.
"Very impressive," he stammered, "I'd very much like to have a look at the components, see if I might be able to integrate it into our own system…this looked really advanced…" Needless to say he was jealous. The others tried their best to contain their sniggers as Rhinox headed for the control panel. Only to be greeted the inside of a barrel of Accinon's gun. Optimus, Rattrap and Cheetor got their own weapons out as she squinted her optics looking suspiciously at Rhinox. Then she lowered her weapon.
"Sorry, but only technical personnel are permitted to view that control box…" She looked at them all inquiringly, their weapons still raised at her, "…you can accompany us back to base if you wish, but for now, I think it would be best if you didn't touch anything. Like Vixy said, you can never be too careful with newbies…"
"Oh, for bootin' up cold! Do we have 'Predacon Spies' welded on our foreheads or somethin'?"
"Rattrap…" Optimus began, but Accinon cut across him.
"No, no, he's right, I shouldn't be so quick to judge. I mean, it's obvious you're Maximals…but we've been having major security leaks lately leading to…incidents, some near fatal…" her voice tailed off at that point, and she bowed her head.
"We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," assured Optimus, "but we're on a mission here. A mission to bring you home…" Accinon and Vixen merely stared.
"Home?" said a very groggy Vixen, "What are you talking about? This is our home right here." Oh dear. These Maximals probably had their memories of Cybertron erased from their data tracks. That was usually the case with protoforms. Sometimes when they land not quite everything is in tact. The mechs hesitate for a moment, then Rhinox said,
"Home…to Cybertron…you're Maximals, aren't you? It's where you belong, and we're here to take all you protoform 'bots back."
"Protoforms? 'Non, what's he talking about?" inquired Vixen. Accinon remained silent. She looked down at her young friend, whose optics were wide with curiosity and confusion.
"Could we talk about this later?" she whispered to Optimus, "Not in front of the kid…" What? Well, if that was her wish, Optimus was not about to object. He signaled to his crew to hop aboard the hover-deck, and they did so wordlessly but cautiously.
When all were aboard, and Rhinox radioed Sentinel 2 t activate defenses, they were off. Like a shot too. The hover-deck's speed was incredible for something not built in a specialist factory.
"Very impressive." complimented Rhinox, who was holding onto the railing for dear life. Optimus chuckled. It was strange to be moving so fast and not on his own accord, but it was pleasant as well. Even with the force shield up he could feel the wind cooling his iron features. They sped on past familiar landscapes of this presumed-barren planet. The planet seemed to have fully recovered form any effects of the Vok planet-buster. The Maximals had a chance to move around the platform without shaking it, despite their difference in sizes. They moved from left to right pointing out old battle locations, reminiscing and remembering, laughing at some and at some hung their heads in silence. One such location was at an all too familiar river cliff; that had retreated upstream several metres in the time they had gone. Despite the speed they were going at, Cheetor leapt off the platform, through the force shield and ran towards the edge of the cliff. Optimus demanded them to stop to follow the impulsive young cat.
When Optimus and Rattrap joined him on foot, Cheetor was standing with a strange look on his face, which was directed at the enormous pool that had engulfed their beloved Axalon all those years ago. The gorilla and the rat shared in his moment of silence at this not-so-fond memory. As they walked slowly back to the hover deck, Accinon considered these new 'bots carefully. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing here and where they were. She would deal with this when they got to their destination…
----
"Now in session, High Council meeting concerning trial of Predacon rogue Megatron. All rise for the Council of Elders."
The voice echoed through the enormous hall with delegates, both Maximal and Predacon, seated in neat concentric rows around a large circular platform hosting four large seats, the occupants of which were starting to enter the great hall. All rose in respect for the board of the highest council members; three mechs and a femme. When these fairly large 'bots took their seat, the same voice that announced their arrival ordered all to resume their seated positions.
The Council of Elders consisted of four highly respected 'bots. There was only one female; one of the Maximals. She was fairly large for a femme, with large features (long arms and legs) and a wide face, with optics that seemed to examine delegates, but kindly. Standing next to her was a mech much the same size, but more slender in build. His face seemed harder and less trusting than his companion. But their size cowered in comparison to the remaining Elders. Two survivors of the Autobots and Decepticons. The Autobot was Ultra Magnus, one of the few remaining Autobots left after the Great War, at least who still had diplomatic authority. His oil tanker/car carrier alternate modes made him big and bulky as well as very colourful. The former commander was a very pleasant robot, and although in a not-so-comfortable position of authority, the former commander found it easy to relate to Cybertronian issues as a high-status Council Elder. Though not a Maximal, he was certainly one of the 'Elders of Cybertron'.
The last 'bot was the most sinister one of the Elders. However, he hid it well. He merely stared at a point above all the heads of the crowd below him. It was not easily noticeable that he was a Decepticon. Granted he was big, so he was one of the two, but if appearances ever were deceiving…His colour, for one, was not what would be considered 'representative of evil'. His colour, in fact, was a base of blue, with silver linings to define his tank mode and masculine features. It was his absolute calmness and charisma that got you. He was charming in his decorum and attitude, and when conversing with the Cybertronian press his charm could melt the reporters into a submissive trance and listen to his every word. The only thing that would give him away as a Decepticon was his left optic. Occasionally, when you are locked in with his gaze, it will flicker and dart from side to side, breaking eye contact, and you know at once that something else is circulating in his mind, that he was listening for something that was not being said. This Decepticon was Soundwave.
"Please enter chief interrogator unit Blackarachnia" came the voice. The Transmetal 2 arachnoid femme walked gracefully into the hall and onto the hovering platform, attracting many pairs of staring optics from all the male delegates. Their gazes were quickly averted as she was accompanied by the Head of Security, Silverbolt. He stood authoritatively by the steps up to Blackarachnia's podium. The she-spider sat calmly on a much smaller seat brought up for her by the press of a button from the back of the hall. She looked up at the Elders straightening her shiny new badge, her optics falling quickly onto Soundwave, but quickly reverted to looking straight through all of them. The hall began to buzz as the Elder Ulta Magnus pulled up a holo-schematic indicating the highly guarded cell at CMSC. He turned his proud head to the widow in front of him.
"How goes the interrogation, Blackarachnia?" he said friendlily. She had met him on one occasion prior to this High Council summit. It was a private get-together between them and the other Elders as a pre-summit debriefing. He had seemed pleasant enough, even more than a regular Maximal, she had thought. It was that Soundwave that had caught her attention. He had done nothing but stare at her the whole session. His silence is what got her. She smiled back at Ultra Magnus.
"Slowly. Ol' Megahead isn't too willing to share any of his cookie recipes, if you know what I mean." There was a surprised murmur from the delegation. Diamond Nine, the female Maximal, raised both eyebrow ridges. Clearly these stuck-ups weren't used to a little spider spice! "In fact, I think he's lost the will to rant about himself…this is serious…" she added with a smirk. There was a lot of irritated muttering from some of the Maximal representatives. Blackarachnia ignored it. Claymor, the last remaining Elder, spoke in a somber and serious voice to the widow.
"In his first report, Optimus Primal stated that Megatron attempted a mergence of his own spark with that of the original Megatron…"
"True, and succeeded, which is what got him his current dragon beast mode…"
"Please refrain from interrupting again, Miss Blackarachnia. As I was saying, Primal also sated that he was successful in restoring the original Megatron's spark into its rightful body, is that correct?" There was a silence.
"As I know it, yes. Megs definitely only had one spark left in him when we left Earth. Although admittedly I wasn't there when he did it…"
"So where were you, then?" came a quiet voice from the fourth chair. Soundwave had been listening intently to Blackarachnia's statement with his hands pressed lightly against each other at the fingertips all the while. She stared at him.
"I was in the Ark control centre reinstalling Telatran 1's core programming to protect the 'bots inside as opposed to the whole mountain…as it should be." She leaned back and folded her right leg over her left to indicate she had nothing more to say on the matter. Soundwave was smiling. But it was a cold smile, empty and malicious, with one eyebrow ridge raised. Claymor continued,
"But wasn't that task up to unit Rhinox? As the Axalon's designated technician, it seems more plausible that he would be responsible as well as fully capable of restoring the Ark as it was. After all, he is an expert in Autobot technological history. And, you are farmer Predacon yourself…"
"And what's that supposed to mean, bright-eyes?!" She shot up in retaliation while Silverbolt growled behind her. Several Predacon delegates also rose in protest. There was an uproar as Blackarachnia and Claymor stared each other down. A gavel was heard echoing even over all the commotion. However, it was merely Ultra Magnus's fist pounding the table in front of him as he called for order.
"If the house would please calm down. We strive for political correctness here, and I am sure it was not Claymor's intention to suggest that action had anything to do with…" he paused for a moment, "…what was the point you were getting at, Claymor?"
"Unit Blackarachnia credited in her last report, as well as her statement a few cycles ago, Megatron's willing discretion and evasiveness to answer questions…" but he was interrupted.
"Will Council Elder Claymor please get to the point of this unstructured and menial argument?" said a very huffy and annoyed Diamond Nine, who was on the edge of her seat awaiting the subtle message of Claymor's argument. With a slightly irritated look at the enormous femme, he continued.
"Our med techs have reported an abnormality in Megatron's superstructure."
"No, DUH, you ignoramus, he's been Transmetalised and deep-fried into what he is! Haven't you been listening?"
"ORDER! If you would be so kind!" came Ultra Magnus' booming voice.
"The council may like to take note…" continued Claymor, eyeing all the 'bots before him, "…that Megatron and possibly even Optimus Primal have not have been wholly truthful of late…"
----
Back on Earth, the four Maximal mechs and two femmes had descended from the deck and were now on foot or paw headed towards a familiar-looking mountain landscape. Cheetor recognized it immediately as the scene where Snowstalker was lost to Tigatron. As these painful memories resurfaced, so did his tears. He hid his face, as none of the others would understand why he was in this state. Accinon, who was still in beast mode with Vixen on her back, seemed to be headed for the clearing just beyond a large rock formation half a klick away. When they reached it, she carefully placed Vixen in a seated position and transformed. She turned to her guests.
"I'm afraid I must ask you to disarm your weapons." She eyed them as Rattrap gave a 'no way' splutter, followed by a smack on the back of the head from Rhinox. "Please, it's for your own safety as much as ours." Almost at once Optimus complied, not wishing to make a bad impression on a new potential friend. All the others followed suit, though Rattrap reluctantly. She smiled. "Stand back. And hold still."
She pulled out a small remote device from her subspace, and pressed an opaque glowing-green button. And at once, even though it was not forced upon them, the Maximals could not move, as a green beam emitted from out of nowhere and started scanning them all. It gave them all an icy chill, and were almost mesmerised by the colour and the strangely familiar feeling coursing through their bodies. This took several seconds, and once it had stopped they all shuddered.
"You get used to that, but you still don't…if you know what I mean." said Vixen. Accinon hushed her once again, and the four mechs took a step back as a huge screen appeared again out of nowhere and presented itself before Accinon. A metallic voice demanded access code and reason for visit.
"Units Accinon, Vixen and guests. Guest factions; Maximals, quantity; four. Unscheduled reparations stopover." She said all this in a very bored voice, as if she wanted to get it all over with. "Come ON! Must we go through this every time?""
"Personality trait recognized," came the computer voice. "enter units…" And with that, pistons hissed and covered the serene sounds of the jungle close by, and opened up a doorway in the rock face in front of them. Accinon took Vixen's arm and put it over her shoulder and made her way into the tunnel of the doorway.
"You comin' or what?" They followed.
After about a minute's 'walk after the doorway closed behind them, they reached an enormous cavern. The new comers stared. Optimus was the first of them to talk as they gazed in awe at the sight below them.
"By the Matrix…"
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please send me your comments. about characters, conspiricies, but nt about what will happen next. tut tut naughty naughty! ull have to wait fr the next installment, which may tak several months *wide0eyed stare at screen*
OK here's some feedback...I like it. I like it aaand furthermore...I LIKE IT. 
I love having G1 characters retaining their old alternate modes as well. It's just a cool little tribute to the old days. Keep up the good work. 