BEAST WARS REBIRTH: Chapter 2 - The Saga Continues
Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 12:52 pm
Oh. My. God.
I finished the second chapter!
I would like to thank DarkSpark. We've been chatting via PM about our fic ideas (I won't spill mate, don't worry
), and we've been sharing plot devices and such like. It's inspired me to keep writing my ifc, although at snail pace. 
Writing down my ideas in a PM made me want to write them in the god damn fic, y'know?
So yay! Here it is at last! Almost but not quite as long as chapter one, but I'm thinking that's a good thing.
Chapter three is aready in the process of being written. There will be many unanswered questions in this one, I guaruntee it, but hey will be answered....eventually
So yeeeahh....it was brought to my attention that Soundwave was a bit different in my fic with litle description of him, but now that I know him a little better after watching G1, I have made it fit! Mwaha! Triumph!
For those of you who know a few of my characters, this is an AU to whereve you saw them (be it RPGs, standalone fics, whatever). So they may seem a bit different to you.
And YES! Another cliff-hanger!
This version should be a little easier to read than the last one, because I did it in web format. I re-read the last one on here and my eyes started to hurt
Anyway, here it is:
--------------------
BEAST WARS: REBIRTH
Chapter 2- The Saga Continues
BEAST
WARS
VOLUME 1
Chapter 2:
"…By the Matrix!"
What stood below them in the enormous cove…was an entire underground community. They did not believe what they were seeing. Several stations of complex-looking machinery, with 'bots working right by them. And there were a lot of them.
They watched as a large stallion trotted in the direction of a large circular console right in the middle of the cavern. It looked very familiar. But what was strange was that all of these transformers had completely organic beast modes.
They looked at each other confusedly, wondering how that could be. After the quantum surge, almost every creature that had emerged from a stasis pod had been a Transmetal. So how was it that all they saw was flesh and fur?
Optimus had been so distracted by the sight of a whole new community inside this mountain that he didn't even notice that Accinon and Vixen were no longer by their side. The four mechs quickly followed the femmes down a stairwell carved out of the cave wall that ascended to the floor of the cavern, where there was a pool of crystal clear spring water.
The stairs were surprisingly wide enough even for Optimus to ascend them without fear of losing his balance and falling off.
“R-session, now!” called Accinon to the closet ‘bot to her. A fairly hefty-looking mech turned and trotted towards them. He took Vixen in his arms and, after glancing at the four noobs behinds Accinon, turned and headed for a tunnel that undoubtedly led to another section of the cavern. Accinon made her way to the circular console. Optimus called after her.
“Hey wait! No introductions? Or are you just going to leave us standing here?” She eyed him up and down with one brow ridge raised, and shrugged.
“You look like a big boy, I’m sure you can handle yourself…” and she turned, flicked her fluffy tail at them, and walked away. Rattrap let out a huff.
“Huh! Now that’s rude. She seemed close to nice about 20 cycles ago…”
“Don’t mind ‘Non. She has a multiple personality glitch. So far we’ve met about four or so.” Rattrap pivoted on his heels towards the source of the voice to find himself facing a large boxy machine face with red and gold buttons decorating its face.
“Hunh? Did that thing jus’ say somethin’?” he inquired to his friends.
If he was capable, he would have blushed fiercely as a steel blue femme stepped out from behind the machine.
The femme smirked and Rattrap scowled as hoots of stifled chortles erupted from behind him. The femme had a silver face and a mask similar to Optimus’, but seemed to open sideways rather than horizontally. She had big, black optics and a small face. Well, it looked small, compared to the jungle of black steel coils protruding from the brow-line back. Rhinox tilted his head and narrowed his optics. Is that supposed to be hair?
“I take it you haven’t had the complimentary tour, huh? Sorry, it’s been a bit crazy today, we’ve been picking up weird signals all morning.” She eyed Rattrap, Optimus and Cheetor carefully and curiously.
“That was us.” came Rhinox’s voice from behind Optimus. “We arrived a few megacycles ago through a transwarp wormhole to…to…” his voiced trailed off. The femme-bot’s optics had widened to the extent that there were cracks forming at the corners. She stared at Rhinox, who shifted uncomfortably as her stare bore into his core.
“You…you’re…” It was as if her voice box had rusted over, “…you’re not….from around here?!” her breathing became heavy and shallow.
They didn’t understand what was going on. First it was Accinon and Vixen, and now this bot seemed to get somewhat upset about any mention of….anything normal to them. Were they all activated with memory data malfunctions?
“Are you alright?” inquired Optimus, concerned. She took a deep breath, and nodded. He continued gently, “May I speak with your commander? It seems we have a bit of explaining to do.” he added as he looked around, aware of many gawking optics.
“Yeah, sure. This way.” She led them like an air hostess towards the circular console. Rhinox was keen on getting a closer look at it, but was disappointed as the femme guided him towards a large tunnel on their right.
The tunnel was well lit. Small neon bulbs were dotted along the walls like a blanket of stars, illuminating every fold in the rock as they continued their promenade to their unknown destination.
It was certainly an odd feeling. As he walked for what felt like an age, all Optimus could think about was that it felt like he had never left Earth. But he still felt like a stranger on this rocky globe as he mused over the creation of this artificially altered mountain lair. How did they build it in so little time?
Then, quite suddenly, their guide halted. She turned to them, looking quite freaky in the shadow of the neon. It was the ‘hair’ mostly.
“Gimme a nano-click.”
And at that, she transformed into a small black spider monkey. Rattrap nudged Optimus’ shin with his elbow and winked, pointing at the little primate.
They barely had time to stare at each other in disbelief when she ran towards the edge of a very wide, very deep canyon and leapt off of it with tremendous back leg force. She must have a flight mode, she can’t be that crazy, thought Cheetor. But she didn’t seem to have wings or jets, and she showed no intention of transforming. Halfway across the gorge, she began to fall.
Optimus immediately activated his jets to rush to her aid, but for some reason, his flight systems would not respond. He looked at Cheetor, who had attempted the same thing. The cat shook his head helplessly. Optics wide, they stared at the femme fall to her death…
…or so they assumed.
For during her descent she angled her body at the precise angle to land herself 10 metres down the top of the canyon wall. There was a small tree-like plant protruding from a lark fault crack. The spider monkey grabbed onto a long branch with her long, black tail, and swung dramatically three times around the branch and miraculously ended up on the ledge opposite the gawking newcomers.
A bit dramatic, but that was fun, the femme thought to herself. She didn’t need to spin quite so much, but the looks on those guys’ faces was worth the extra mileage. Without further ado, she pushed a large button on the wall behind her, which extended a bridge from a slot in the canyon wall. Once it reached their end the four mechs stared. A lot of trouble to go through, wasn’t it?
Rattrap, being the smallest was persuaded (much to his dismay) to cross first. He cautiously stepped onto the metal crossing one foot at a time. The femme looked impatient and irritated.
“Look, if the bridge doesn’t give out, my patience will.” Her hand edged closer to the ‘retract’ button.
Next thing she knew Rattrap was by her side, bent over his knees and panting. “It’s good! Come on over!” he called to the others. The spider monkey rolled her optics. Optimus was still unsure about the bridge, but not only because of his size and weight. But his trusting nature kicked in, as he believed this young femme had no reason to want to harm them. Yet. Optimus intended to show good faith and manners and walked over to her after the rest of his comrades.
Once they were across, she pressed the retract button and a brief flash of yellow light blazed out from the bottom of the canyon. Optimus and the others felt their internal systems reboot. “I’ll explain that later,” the small femme stated to the dumfounded mechanoids. She didn’t feel comfortable not letting them know about it beforehand, but those were her orders. It wasn’t a good start if they wanted to be friends.
After a much shorter walk, they emerged into another cavern, much bigger this time. Rhinox couldn’t help but let his jaw drop to the ground. The walls were completely covered with machinery: buttons, lights knobs, switches, the works.
Stalactites and stalagmites were dotted with lights, which made them sparkle like diamond-encrusted fingers of the cave. A large area had been completely flattened out, and several more smaller area led off from it. The large one was where most of the machinery was held. It was impressive, even though the machines themselves were old and tacky. They saw that one of the smaller areas, which was half-blocked by rock, was being used as a combat training area. The others seemed to be used mostly for building and repair.
There were also doors located at every wall of the cave. Chimneys were being used as resting places: Rattrap spotted a hawk nestled in its wings in one of the smaller ones. The others must have been used as escape tunnels, or something of the sort.
“Very impressive…” Rhinox said out loud to himself. Cheetor and Rattrap’s attention however was drawn to the femme bots. As far as males went, they were outnumbered. A smirk crept its way onto Rattrap’s face. I guess I’m not gonna miss Cybertron much this time…He snickered and rubbed his hands together, and nudged Cheetor, who just stared, mouth agape.
“How did you manage to build all of this?” inquired Optimus, prying his gaze away from the magnificent scene and onto the much smaller femme. He saw her hesitate, mouth slightly open, as if she was about to answer him, but for whatever reason held back the words.
“Well, the cave was already here,” she said, her optics dashing from left to bottom right as she continued to lead them, “we just…added a few things.”
“Hold it RIGHT there!”
They turned with a start.
“Ah, slag…” they heard the femme moan. Cheetor couldn’t help but feel nervous because the low, booming voice echoed through the cave like a siren.
“Stay where you are and put your hands up!” demanded the voice.
“Comply,” ordered Optimus, “we don’t want to seem hostile…”
They did as they were told, aware of many of the bots edging backwards, some reaching for their weapons. Rattrap looked behind him, and saw the spider monkey draw her own twin blades. She gave him a hopelessly apologetic look. Then, she nudged him in the back with her blade, forcing him forwards.
“Tanks fer nuttin, kid!” he sneered. She scowled. She was just following orders.
The four newcomers walked down an aisle bordered by a line of Maximals, and optics from birds, mammals and reptiles followed their every pace. They felt sheepish with their arms up in the air, as if they were about to perform some sort of silly dance.
They were forced to approach a rather large mech, whose beast mode appeared to be that of a grey wolf. Half of the beast’s head was on each shoulder, much like Rattrap’s, only this bot’s was, again, organic-looking. He appeared to have a fang necklace around his hulky neckline, which lay on top of a chest of white fur. His ‘muscular’ arms held his beast mode’s front paws off his elbow, and his legs were that of his hind legs. His face was blue, with fierce red optics, and a hungry look upon it. If looks could kill, Optimus would be shaking hands with his namesake right now.
“On your knees.”
They stared at him, flabbergasted by his tone.
“I don’t believe I stuttered…” he added, firmly. They obeyed, and dropped to their knees. To be fair, Optimus may as well have stayed standing, as his ginormity was overwhelming no matter what his position. Many of the bots observing him were relatively the same size. But who had ever heard of a giant metallic gorilla?
The mech in front of them huffed, obviously annoyed that he could not look his captive directly in the eye.
He shook his head, deciding it would not undermine his authority, the mech walked towards them. He looked each of them over, huffing and snorting occasionally. After what felt like an age, he backed away, hands behind his back and asked, “What are you? Hm? Some kind of mutant freaks?”
“Excuse me?!” cried Rattrap, insulted, “Seriously, is it the way we dress?” he asked Rhinox.
The wolf released a quick, harsh bark aimed at Rattrap. To this, Rattrap leaned forward about to retaliate, but he swiftly felt the blow of a large hand on the back of his head. The wolf-mech took a deep, hard breath, and pinched his nose ridge.
“Nightshaft?” he said, his head still down.
“Ya?” replied the spider-monkey femme behind them.
“Oh, so you gotta name, now, do yeh?” jeered Rattrap. She gave him, if possible, an even deeper scowl.
“Come here, please,” said the wolf.
“Why? What did I do?”
“Now!”
Optimus heard Nightshaft sigh behind him, and saw her walk the long way around him. He had a feeling she had been through this process before. She reached the mech, folded her arms, and sneered, “What?” He raised his head, a plastic smile upon his blue face.
“What are these unfamiliars doing in the base?”
“’Non and Vixen brought ‘em in,” she replied, shrugging.
”Really? And where are they now?”
“Repairs, of course. Them and these four were fighting Predacons.”
“What?”
“You heard me…sir.” she said, adding significant sarcastic emphasis to the last word. But her sentence still carried a serious tone. The nameless mechanoid narrowed his optics. His mind seemed to be going over a few things.
His anger seemed to dissipate. He was mulling this information over in his head, as if it were unusual or unheard of.
“You, Grey, should I get the boss?” said a macaw-bot behind the wolf. His plumage was bright red and his optics small, beady and black. He seemed particularly interested in the three Transmetal/Optimal bots.
‘Grey’ nodded.
“Awright! Man, this party gonna be trippin’!”
The macaw transformed into beast mode and soar to the roof of the cave and through a chimney. The wolf’s optics were now wide with worry. Optimus, on the other hand, had his own mission to worry about.
“You’re not in charge here?” inquired Optimus, who felt somewhat annoyed that he was being pushed around by someone who did not have proper authority. He lowered his arms and decisively rose to his feet, nearly cracking his head on a stalactite, and stated, “My name is Optimus Primal. I am on an important mission, and I wish to speak with your commander.”
The bot raised his brows, unimpressed by the disturbance of his thoughts.
“Our commander,” he said with a slight sneer, “will be here shortly, let me assure you.” He seemed a little more relaxed knowing that Optimus and his crew were not on the offensive…at the moment. He continued with a more friendly but formal tone, “For now, you’ll have to deal with me. The lieutenant.”
Optimus nodded respectfully. “Does my crew have permission to stand?” he asked, with a raised brow and a small smile. The wolf-mech nodded. Optimus heard three sighs of relief from behind him, as well as the mechanics of his friends’ joints as they rose.
“I’m afraid you now have me at a disadvantage, lieutenant. What’s your name?” Optimus asked.
It took a while for the mech to respond. He tilted his head, as if considering Optimus for any hint that this new bot might use his name against him.
“Greyback.” he finally answered.
Optimus held out his enormous orange hands in greetings, unsurprised by the look the gesture received. Many times on Cybertron he received similar looks brought on by his unusual size. Greyback took a finger, and the two mechs shook hands.
Quite suddenly, a male voice came from behind a stalagmite from behind the observing Maximals.
He hopped through the cave towards them with such speed, it was not until he ended up in front of the wolf bot, panting, that they saw he was a jerboa.
“Grey…” he said with some difficulty, a strong Earthen-Australian accent penetrating the breaths he was taking, “…trouble. Scanners’ve just picked up five Preds comin’ in fast. They don’t look happy, mate.”
Greyback’s optics immediately widened again. “They can’t come near the entrance. Send two scouts out there, and lead them away from the mountainside. I’ll be there as soon as I can. GO!”
Organised chaos ensued almost straight away. Once again, Optimus and his friends seemed to be lost amongst the crowd, moving in and amongst each other as they headed towards their stations for this particular situation. It was as if they weren’t there. Cheetor noticed Greyback running down yet another tunnel, Nightshaft in hot pursuit.
“Optimus!” he called, pointing to the wolf. Optimus nodded and signalled for his crew to follow them, regardless of anything going on around them. The Axalon commander would not be left hanging. These Maximals, whether under his command or not, were his responsibility. He had been sent to retrieve stasis pods: which meant the protoforms, activated or not.
He chased the wolf down a different corridor, which do doubt led to the other side of the mountain.
---
Outside, Optimus approached Greyback from behind, grabbed his shoulder and turned him lit a spinning top to face him.
“You? What do you think you’re doing?”
“This does not concern you…”
“I’m not in a very good mood at the moment, lieutenant. Thus far, I have not been able to speak to anyone in charge, and I refuse to be misinformed.”
Greyback growled. The nerve of this guy…
“You any good at negotiating?” he asked, gruffly.
“Are you kidding me?” came Rattrap’s high-pitched response, “This monkey could negotiate you all into a coma if yeh can stand the listen to ‘im that long…”
“Shut up, Rattrap.”
Greyback’s mood and tolerance was slipping. “If you must…” he said slowly through gritted teeth, “…stay back and keep quiet yourself. Hopefully we won’t actually need to negotiate...they’re the trespassers anyway…”
Optimus look at his comrades uncomfortably when Greyback said that.
They kept quiet, as agreed, and followed the party heading towards a densely vegetated forest area.
---
A little later, after a two minute walk down a well-worn track, they stopped. Someone had heard something up ahead
Cheetor’s optics widened with dread as the Predacon party stepped into the light. It was the three that they had encountered soon after their arrival: Gearcrush, Obertron and Serpentia. They were followed by two more in beast mode: a giant, florescent green praying mantis and a jet black raven.
Obertron stepped into a circle of sunlight, and Greyback did the same. Despite the obvious urge to rip each other’s sparks out of their compartments the two nodded to each other. Optimus made it clear to his own Maximals to stay back in the darkest shadows.
“I’m sure you have guessed why we have summoned you,” said the brawling, dramatic voice of the Predacon fuzor, “we are most disappointed that our treaty has been violated.”
“Stuff it, moth-breath. If you insist on bad-mouthing our friends I may have to bid you good riddance. Why are you really here?”
“We are here…for them…” he said, pointing a long, dishevelled claw at Optimus’ party.
“Why?”
“It is not your place to ask questions, you unsightly mongrel!” hissed Serpentia, who had been holding back the desire to strike a deadly bite at each of her escapees. Obertron and Greyback continued to stare each other down.
“As I was saying, you malodourous mutt, our truce has been broken. We were attacked by these newcomers, and thus it is our right to…”
He was interrupted by a loud roar from the canopy of leaves above. All fell silent.
A femme bot with a leopard beast mode landed in front of Obertron. The head covered her chest (as per usual for a standard organic transformer), and various beast parts covered the rest of her bosy. She had a gold helmet with cat-like ears, and a long spotted tail that flicked from side to side.
She stood up straight, confident against the larger Predacon menace.
“Ahh, how nice of you to finally join us, commander,” Obertron mocked, bowing deeply to the leopard. She folded her arms and remained still.
“Pleasure as always, Obertron. What’s all this about?” she asked, obviously in no mood to play around. She had a very “English” accent, and sounded very posh.
“As I was saying to your arrogant pup of a lieutenant, we were wronged by two of your troops.”
“How so?”
“Simply…they attacked us.”
“From what I’ve been told, they were defending four innocent Maximals that you had seized against their will.”
“They were trespassing. All of them. You know our agreement. No one enters our territory, and we stay off yours.”
The femme glanced behind her without rotating her head further than beyond her shoulder. They could not see her whole face, only bright blue optics, but they could tell she was scanning them, somehow.
After a while, she said slowly, “What do you want with them?”
“By our right, we take them in for…‘questioning’.”
Her optics narrowed. He knew she was not buying it.
“It is not my place to say,” he continued, “but either they come with us, or we will be at liberty to attack, by right of the truce agreement.”
“You can’t do that…” she said.
“Oh, but I can. They are not your Maximals. Therefore, they must come with us!”
“No. Because they are mine.”
“Say what now?” asked Rhinox, quietly. Good question, thought Optimus.
“They’re new upgraded models. Something I’m sure you lot want to get your mitts on. However, like I said, they’re with me.” she replied to Obertron.
“And how, pray tell, did you acquire such upgrades from what is available on this miserable planet?”
“That’s not for you to know…”
“I must warn you…if these new bots are not with you…they will come with us. Otherwise, we are at war…once again.”
“Once again.” she said. Optimus was surprised that she would sacrifice such a fragile peace for their sakes. It was very Maximal of her. Apparently, the other Maximals were just as surprised. Greyback looked as if he would explode.
The leopard femme walked casually towards Obertron. She suddenly grabbed his collar plate and pulled his face close to hers, so that only he could hear her when she whispered menacingly into his audio receptor, “Tell Khan his twisted little game has crossed several lines already. I’ve seen you both in our quadrants for the past several weeks, dismantling our communication posts. We were already at war. And if he pushes me, he knows what to expect…”
This seemed to instil some fear in Obertron. Something his leader had once told him about their foes came hurtling out of the back of his mind. She finally let him go, and he backed away.
“Very well,” he said, regaining his composure, “as you know, each side will have a quiet period of 30 megacycles. We shall meet again, Jagna.”
Her expression of abhorrence remained unchanged.
“Predacons, return to base!”
”And fuel up?” asked the raven Predacon with a grin.
“Indeed…” replied Obertron. They started their retreat, but the mantis stayed where it was.
“Annissssssss, what are you waiting for?” Serpentia snapped at the large insect.
“Why should we wait for 30 megacycles? If we are at war, I should feast now!” The Maximals leant back slightly at her menacing hunger.
“Gearcrush squish stupid insect! Bat say base now! Eat there.”
Disgruntled, the mantis withdrew, as did all five Predacons. Once they were out of range, the leopard named Jagna sighed deeply, and allowed her posture to slump forward in relief.
“What the slagging hell was that?!”
The observers were snapped out of their daze by Greyback’s furious enquiry.
He marched up to his leader, outraged, flung her round to face him and grabbed her by the shoulders. Optimus could see her face now. Her optics were big and piercing, and she had a very cat-ish face. And she looked young. Younger than him, at least.
Greyback started to shake her, hoping the madness would spill out of her ears if he did it hard enough.
“You would have us go to war for these…these…them?!”
With a snarl, the femme pushed Greyback off her. Still ignoring Optimus and his crew, she brushed herself off, and replied,
“Had I said they were not with us, Greyback, they would have been taken to Predacon headquarters. Tell me, Grey, would you have such an uncertain fate bestowed upon anyone?” She had moved close to him, and her tone was serious, solemn. His expression softened.
“No,” he replied, lowering his head.
“Mhm.”
She began to walk back the way they came from the mountain base. Optimus took this opportunity to finally confront the commander of this group of stranded Maximals.
He stood in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped, raised a brow ridge, and slowly looked up at him. He smiled down at her, which had become an automatic reaction for the looks he received.
“Yes?” she asked after a moment’s exchange of eye contact.
“I am Optimus Primal. Commander of the Warpship Hercules. I must speak with you, commander, I…”
She held up a hand, not looking at him. After 10 seconds, she shot up a look at him that gave him chills. Her optics were as thin as slate.
“You…” she began, her voice laced with contempt, “…have done quite enough, thank you.”
And with that, she casually walked under him between his legs. There enough room, and she had urgent matters to attend to. Fed up, Optimus Primal followed her. His Maximals were left staring at her Maximals. Greyback was calmer than he was a few minutes ago, but still seething, shooting the new Maximals dirty looks. Feeling awkward, Rhinox summoned Cheetor and Rattrap to follow after Optimus.
Once they had left, Greyback, clutched his head in his hands and let out a wolfish moan. Nightshaft had been observing quietly the whole time, and came up to the wolf bot and asked quietly,
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
“Big trouble. With a capital P…” he added darkly.
---
“Miss, please…just answer the question…”
“Are you deaf, or just plain ignorant?”
“Blackarachnia, please…”
“Am I alone here? I’ve told you three times already!”
“For the last time, we…”
“Bite me!”
A wave of uproars echoed through the great hall where the Maximal Elders continued to question Blackarachnia on her authenticity as a Maximal interrogator. The Maximal side were outraged that Claymor would have the nerve to ask, and the Predacons were just plain insulted that this fiery female defected from their side. It wasn’t anything to do with what was going on, but a time of uproar was the best time to express one’s anger without being thrown out of the delegation.
Silverbolt was particularly displeased with the Maximal elder’s accusation. The only reason Claymor was getting away with such insults was because Ultra Magnus was not present. Diamond Nine continued to protest to Claymor about certain personal rights and insulting their own interrogator. Soundwave, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. He continued to smile in that creepy way he had been doing for the past four weeks. That was how long this had been going on and off: the Council of Elders were not well known for the decisiveness, but rather for dragging things out longer than was necessary. It was mostly due to Ultra Magnus’ repeated absences. He never told anyone where he was going, or when. Therefore, all meetings were delayed until his return. Today, however, Claymor decided the meeting should go ahead. Of course, Diamond Nine insisted they wait once more for Ultra Magnus, but since Soundwave uttered no protest (nor agreement) it went ahead.
“Order!” yelled Diamond Nine. It took a little more time for the room to quiet down than if it were Ultra Magnus giving the order. She huffed, and asked the bots in the hall, “Do we feel that Claymor’s methods are necessary? We recruited Unit Blackarachnia as an interrogator for Megatron’s trial, and yet, here we are, interrogating her! What does it matter what faction she is? The whole point of the upcoming trial is that Megatron is a traitor to Cybertron! To all transformers, Maximals and Predacons alike, who wish for peace in our galaxy,” many of the Predacons muttered incoherently, but she did not notice, “This meeting was supposed to be a private one, to inquire about what Megatron might have said. It hasd now been blown out of proportion, and for what? I ask?” Blackarachnia smiled at the larger femme. Not many people were sympathetic towards the spider, if only because she was a former Predacon. “With my authority as a Maximal Elder,” Diamond continued, “I call for an immediate dismissal of this public fiasco, and return to the original plan…” she said to Claymor in particular.
There was a mutter of agreement from both sides. The trail of Megatron certainly wasn’t disclosed from public knowledge, but many Cybertronians wished to leave the good stuff till the trial itself.
“All in favour?” inquired Diamond Nine, raising her hand. Soundwave lazily raised his, to the surprise of many, including Blackarachnia. Even she, who could sense what people were thinking a mile off, could not determine who’s side he was on.
Soundwave had undertaken an upgrade several centuries ago, after Decepticons were granted amnesty. He was not a Predacon, like his old friend Ravage had become, but his physical appearance had certainly changed. While he still obtained the monotonic, droning voice he had always possessed, they had removed his mask. Hence, why he was now able to smile. Nobody liked this very much. He was much more creepy and sinister now that he had the power of expression. His alt mode was, too, different, simply for the purpose of the upgrade. All of his attachments, save ravage, had been destroyed by bounty hunters after the Great Wars, but somehow Soundwave escaped. It took him a while to get accepted back on Cybertron, formerly being the original Megatron’s right-hand bot. But somehow, no one is sure why, he managed to wriggle his way into the Council of Elders. Probably because he was one of the only remaining Decepticons, and it would have looked good to have at least on ‘former bad guy’ now on the side of right…much to many Autobots’ and Maximals’ protest.
Yet there he was, observing all before him, now siding with a Maximal Elder. He caught Blackarachnia’s eye once more, and smiled again. It was the only thing she had ever known that could make her skin crawl.
“Sorry, Diamond, but you need approval of at least three Council members to do that, and I say ‘Nay’. And no one can overrule except…”
”Overruled!” came a familiar, booming voice. Heads turned to see Ultra Magnus storm through the steel doorway towards the council panel.
“And just what is going on here? I’m away not two days, and this is what you get up to, Claymor.”
“We were merely eager to continue with this meeting so that the trial (somethings) may ensue, Ultra Magnus.” the slender mech replied, innocently. Diamond Nine scowled at him.
“That is not up to you, I’m afraid,” declared Ultra Magnus, “I agree with Diamond Nine, this has gone on for too long. You are all dismissed.”
”Hey…how long have you been here?” Claymor asked suspiciously.
“Long enough…” Ultra Magnus quietly replied. He caught eyes with Soundwave, and his blue optics narrowed. He never did and never would trust that Decepticon.
He turned his enormous self to face Blackarachnia and Silverbolt, who were just leaving with the others.
“Hang on, you two. I request a private meeting with you. Nothing Council-related, don’t you worry, this is private. I’ll see you in my chambers in two megacycles.
Still seated, Soundwave watched Ultra Magnus leave through the Elders’ exit.
Negative, Ultra Magnus. Nothing here is private…
---
Outside, once the area was clear of nosey delegates, Blackarachnia grumbled, “The nerve of that guy. Can you believe it Bolt? And to think I’d actually be treated the same as any of you Maximals here!” she exclaimed, raising her arms into the air as if praying it would all go away.
“Do not fret, my dearest. You are a Maximal in my eyes…” Silverbolt said lovingly, taking her hands in his and holding them close to him. She immediately yanked them away.
“Bleugh. You and your drivel. And not here, bone head…” he withdrew sadly. The spider femme looked left and right, and behind her.
She grabbed his collar plate and hurled him into a small, dead-end corridor, which was very dimly lit, smacking him gently into the wall.
“Okay. Now is good…” she said, smirking playfully. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down towards hers, and locked their lips together. Though surprised at first, Silverbolt quickly warmed up to this little game. He held her in close embrace, unwilling to let go. This was the first time he had been close to his love in a week, as they had both been very busy regarding each other’s new Cybertronian professions.
After a long while, Blackarachnia pushed her puppy away from her, and walked backwards in a seductive manner. The nice girl was gone, and now the girl she knew he fell for had come out to play. She beckoned him with her finger, slowly…
The bird dog growled softly. He walked towards her, unfurled his wings and created a sort of tent around them. He began to lean in closer when…
“Silverbolt!”
That made them both jump. They both stood to attention as a patrol bot named Blitz rolled towards them in his alt mode of a Cybertronian forklift. They heard him grunt in annoyance.
“Do you guys mind? I’m trying to work here. If I hadn’t noticed you in that hallway, you’d’ve been crated and halfway to New Iacon by now,” he exclaimed irritably.
“And just why would they want a corridor moved, buck tooth?” Blackarachnia asked, also annoyed.
“Beats me, I’m just doin’ my job. So beat it!”
“You cannot speak to her like that!” growled Silverbolt, stepping in front of her. The spider femme rolled her optics.
“Yeah, well you can’t speak to me like that, bub! You beast bots think you’re all that, well you’re no better than the rest of us, no matter who you’re friends are. Now for the last time, get outta here!”
He charged past them, making them jump out if his way. The watched him turn the corner into their private corridor, cursing something about ‘snooty security bots’.
“Ugh. Commoner. C’mon, bird brain, we have one and a half megacycles to kill till we meet the big M.”
”Where shall we go, beloved?”
“I have an idea…” she replied, winking.
---
Back on Earth, mass confusion filled the mountain lair. Bots in beast and robot mode were muttering to each other about the events that ensued earlier that day. The atmosphere was tense around Optimus and his crew, who were still believed the culprits responsible for this so-called new war.
The leopard femme was pacing, breathing deeply. Optimus watched her closely. She kept glancing over at them, not accursedly like the other bots, but she seemed to be considering what to do with them. He caught her optics: he recognised something within them, and it seemed she did too.
After a brief second she broke away, took one more pace and stood before her fellow bots.
“It’s a grim day, Maximals. Very grim. The Beast Wars…a war we have all heard tell about, a war the datatracks we recovered describe so vividly…has started again. For years we’ve managed to live alongside the Predacons of this planet with some degree of peace. And I stress the word ‘some’. Unfortunately, we’ve been expecting this for a long time now. As you all know, the Predacons have been repeatedly spotted in our sectors, doing Primus knows what. And you all remember that…‘incident’ not long ago…”
There was a mutter from the crowd. So they have been anticipating a war, thought Optimus.
“…and now we have some newcomers. Something that hasn’t happened for a while…” the look she gave them this time was humble, and almost welcoming, “…they are not to blame for any of this. Kahn has been planning this was since the beginning. They are merely the catalysts. But they’re now with us.”
Every pair of optics was on them.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” snapped Rattrap.
“Shut up, Rat Face…” Cheetor said, elbowing the Transmetal rat.
“Nomad, Streakhorn, contact the other bases,”
“Other bases?” Rhinox asked, confused. Jagna ignored him.
“Tell them Plot Omega has been deployed.”
The two Maximals, a dromedary camel and a gazelle, both nodded and headed towards what Rhinox assumed to be the control centre. Their console had looked awfully familiar…
“Skylark, tell all field units to return to home base. It’s not a good night to be out.”
Skylark, a tawny owl femme bot, stood up and said, “On it boss. Need me to reboot the systems for Omega?” Jagna nodded.
“Uh, mind if I come?” Rhinox piped in. The owl raised a brow ridge, very surprised. He scratched his head, “Well, if we’re a team now, I should get to know this base, and your computers. I am a tech after all…”
“That’s cool with me, rhino. Jag?” replied Skylark. The leopard nodded, and Rhinox followed the flier to the control centre.
“Sandskimmer, forward.” Jagna commanded. A mech with exceedingly long legs and a stout torso stepped forward. It was the jerboa they saw earlier. He even talked fast.
“Yeah Jag what can I do anything you command commander command me and I’m there it’ll b done faster than you can say pan galactic…”
“Quiet, you,” the leopard interrupted, smiling, “I need to go outside and activate the shield generator’s main auxiliary power units. They’re quite a way away and you’re the fastest here…”
A loud cough was heard coming from the crowd. It was Cheetor.
“Sorry, but I could outrun him in my sleep!” he gloated. Rattrap slapped his head. That cat never knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“Oh yeah?” retorted the jerboa Sandskimmer, “What makes ye think that sonny boy eh? Ye don’t look so hot to me, nosirree!”
“Well, for starters, I’m a Cheetah. And then there’s my turbo-accelerator booster jets,” his voice reeked of narcissism, which made Sandskimmer instantly dislike him.
“Want me to prove it, you furry jack in the box?”
“Ye’re on mate lessgo lessgo after 1 2…HA! Eat my dust furball!”
And he was off. Up a flight of stairs, with beast mode Cheetor in hot pursuit, crying, “NU-uh! Eat mine!”
“Um, excuse me! The power units?!” Jagna sighed, determining it was useless, and made her way down to the two remaining new mechs, Optimus and Rattrap.
“He’s yours, is he?”
“Unfortunately,” replied Rattrap, “but yeh get used to him…eventually…Oh, s’cuse me, where are my manners. Name’s Rattrap,” he grinned and gave her his hand as a semi-formal greeting. She took it, slowly.
---
Later, in a desolate part of the planet, in a secret underground lair…
Obertron and Serpentia looked at each other awkwardly. They were standing outside a large steel door in their own underground secret base. They said not a word to each other too loudly, and were battling over who would enter first.
“You are second-in-command, are you not? You go in, you wretched woman!” the ape/bat snarled at the cobra.
“And as ssssecond-in-command, I order you insssside now!” she hissed back.
All of a sudden, the door flew open, silencing them both. They scowled at each other once more, and entered together.
A terrible wheezing was filling the room. It was as if the occupant were on constant life support. But this was no new to the Predacons. It had been like this as long as they could remember.
“Well?” rattled the gasping voice, “Have you captured them?”
“No,” Obertron replied, not with his usual brawling smugness…his tone was static and monotonous.
The wheezing became quicker and heavier. “Then you have failed. Did you at least discover the location…(he breathed in coarsely)…of the Maximal base…whilst on their ground?”
“We believe we musssst have come closssse, for they were very sssswift meeting usssss,”
“That is not good enough!” the voice bellowed, causing it to choke, cough and splutter. Obertron and Serpentia cautiously approached to help, but they were hissed at and forced to withdraw.
The breathing then become slow and rhythmic, like a dull drum beat for a rowing team.
“Did you find anything out about them?” the voice asked.
“Nothhhhing. The ffffeline kept them out of sssssight.”
“No matter,” replied the voice, “this new development might prove useful…”
There was a silence. The wheezing has momentarily ceased. The two Predacons leaned forward with anticipation.
“…Bring me the one called…Optimus Primal…”
I finished the second chapter!
I would like to thank DarkSpark. We've been chatting via PM about our fic ideas (I won't spill mate, don't worry
), and we've been sharing plot devices and such like. It's inspired me to keep writing my ifc, although at snail pace. Writing down my ideas in a PM made me want to write them in the god damn fic, y'know?
So yay! Here it is at last! Almost but not quite as long as chapter one, but I'm thinking that's a good thing.
Chapter three is aready in the process of being written. There will be many unanswered questions in this one, I guaruntee it, but hey will be answered....eventually
So yeeeahh....it was brought to my attention that Soundwave was a bit different in my fic with litle description of him, but now that I know him a little better after watching G1, I have made it fit! Mwaha! Triumph!
For those of you who know a few of my characters, this is an AU to whereve you saw them (be it RPGs, standalone fics, whatever). So they may seem a bit different to you.
And YES! Another cliff-hanger!
This version should be a little easier to read than the last one, because I did it in web format. I re-read the last one on here and my eyes started to hurt
Anyway, here it is:
--------------------
BEAST WARS: REBIRTH
Chapter 2- The Saga Continues
BEAST
WARS
VOLUME 1
Chapter 2:
"…By the Matrix!"
What stood below them in the enormous cove…was an entire underground community. They did not believe what they were seeing. Several stations of complex-looking machinery, with 'bots working right by them. And there were a lot of them.
They watched as a large stallion trotted in the direction of a large circular console right in the middle of the cavern. It looked very familiar. But what was strange was that all of these transformers had completely organic beast modes.
They looked at each other confusedly, wondering how that could be. After the quantum surge, almost every creature that had emerged from a stasis pod had been a Transmetal. So how was it that all they saw was flesh and fur?
Optimus had been so distracted by the sight of a whole new community inside this mountain that he didn't even notice that Accinon and Vixen were no longer by their side. The four mechs quickly followed the femmes down a stairwell carved out of the cave wall that ascended to the floor of the cavern, where there was a pool of crystal clear spring water.
The stairs were surprisingly wide enough even for Optimus to ascend them without fear of losing his balance and falling off.
“R-session, now!” called Accinon to the closet ‘bot to her. A fairly hefty-looking mech turned and trotted towards them. He took Vixen in his arms and, after glancing at the four noobs behinds Accinon, turned and headed for a tunnel that undoubtedly led to another section of the cavern. Accinon made her way to the circular console. Optimus called after her.
“Hey wait! No introductions? Or are you just going to leave us standing here?” She eyed him up and down with one brow ridge raised, and shrugged.
“You look like a big boy, I’m sure you can handle yourself…” and she turned, flicked her fluffy tail at them, and walked away. Rattrap let out a huff.
“Huh! Now that’s rude. She seemed close to nice about 20 cycles ago…”
“Don’t mind ‘Non. She has a multiple personality glitch. So far we’ve met about four or so.” Rattrap pivoted on his heels towards the source of the voice to find himself facing a large boxy machine face with red and gold buttons decorating its face.
“Hunh? Did that thing jus’ say somethin’?” he inquired to his friends.
If he was capable, he would have blushed fiercely as a steel blue femme stepped out from behind the machine.
The femme smirked and Rattrap scowled as hoots of stifled chortles erupted from behind him. The femme had a silver face and a mask similar to Optimus’, but seemed to open sideways rather than horizontally. She had big, black optics and a small face. Well, it looked small, compared to the jungle of black steel coils protruding from the brow-line back. Rhinox tilted his head and narrowed his optics. Is that supposed to be hair?
“I take it you haven’t had the complimentary tour, huh? Sorry, it’s been a bit crazy today, we’ve been picking up weird signals all morning.” She eyed Rattrap, Optimus and Cheetor carefully and curiously.
“That was us.” came Rhinox’s voice from behind Optimus. “We arrived a few megacycles ago through a transwarp wormhole to…to…” his voiced trailed off. The femme-bot’s optics had widened to the extent that there were cracks forming at the corners. She stared at Rhinox, who shifted uncomfortably as her stare bore into his core.
“You…you’re…” It was as if her voice box had rusted over, “…you’re not….from around here?!” her breathing became heavy and shallow.
They didn’t understand what was going on. First it was Accinon and Vixen, and now this bot seemed to get somewhat upset about any mention of….anything normal to them. Were they all activated with memory data malfunctions?
“Are you alright?” inquired Optimus, concerned. She took a deep breath, and nodded. He continued gently, “May I speak with your commander? It seems we have a bit of explaining to do.” he added as he looked around, aware of many gawking optics.
“Yeah, sure. This way.” She led them like an air hostess towards the circular console. Rhinox was keen on getting a closer look at it, but was disappointed as the femme guided him towards a large tunnel on their right.
The tunnel was well lit. Small neon bulbs were dotted along the walls like a blanket of stars, illuminating every fold in the rock as they continued their promenade to their unknown destination.
It was certainly an odd feeling. As he walked for what felt like an age, all Optimus could think about was that it felt like he had never left Earth. But he still felt like a stranger on this rocky globe as he mused over the creation of this artificially altered mountain lair. How did they build it in so little time?
Then, quite suddenly, their guide halted. She turned to them, looking quite freaky in the shadow of the neon. It was the ‘hair’ mostly.
“Gimme a nano-click.”
And at that, she transformed into a small black spider monkey. Rattrap nudged Optimus’ shin with his elbow and winked, pointing at the little primate.
They barely had time to stare at each other in disbelief when she ran towards the edge of a very wide, very deep canyon and leapt off of it with tremendous back leg force. She must have a flight mode, she can’t be that crazy, thought Cheetor. But she didn’t seem to have wings or jets, and she showed no intention of transforming. Halfway across the gorge, she began to fall.
Optimus immediately activated his jets to rush to her aid, but for some reason, his flight systems would not respond. He looked at Cheetor, who had attempted the same thing. The cat shook his head helplessly. Optics wide, they stared at the femme fall to her death…
…or so they assumed.
For during her descent she angled her body at the precise angle to land herself 10 metres down the top of the canyon wall. There was a small tree-like plant protruding from a lark fault crack. The spider monkey grabbed onto a long branch with her long, black tail, and swung dramatically three times around the branch and miraculously ended up on the ledge opposite the gawking newcomers.
A bit dramatic, but that was fun, the femme thought to herself. She didn’t need to spin quite so much, but the looks on those guys’ faces was worth the extra mileage. Without further ado, she pushed a large button on the wall behind her, which extended a bridge from a slot in the canyon wall. Once it reached their end the four mechs stared. A lot of trouble to go through, wasn’t it?
Rattrap, being the smallest was persuaded (much to his dismay) to cross first. He cautiously stepped onto the metal crossing one foot at a time. The femme looked impatient and irritated.
“Look, if the bridge doesn’t give out, my patience will.” Her hand edged closer to the ‘retract’ button.
Next thing she knew Rattrap was by her side, bent over his knees and panting. “It’s good! Come on over!” he called to the others. The spider monkey rolled her optics. Optimus was still unsure about the bridge, but not only because of his size and weight. But his trusting nature kicked in, as he believed this young femme had no reason to want to harm them. Yet. Optimus intended to show good faith and manners and walked over to her after the rest of his comrades.
Once they were across, she pressed the retract button and a brief flash of yellow light blazed out from the bottom of the canyon. Optimus and the others felt their internal systems reboot. “I’ll explain that later,” the small femme stated to the dumfounded mechanoids. She didn’t feel comfortable not letting them know about it beforehand, but those were her orders. It wasn’t a good start if they wanted to be friends.
After a much shorter walk, they emerged into another cavern, much bigger this time. Rhinox couldn’t help but let his jaw drop to the ground. The walls were completely covered with machinery: buttons, lights knobs, switches, the works.
Stalactites and stalagmites were dotted with lights, which made them sparkle like diamond-encrusted fingers of the cave. A large area had been completely flattened out, and several more smaller area led off from it. The large one was where most of the machinery was held. It was impressive, even though the machines themselves were old and tacky. They saw that one of the smaller areas, which was half-blocked by rock, was being used as a combat training area. The others seemed to be used mostly for building and repair.
There were also doors located at every wall of the cave. Chimneys were being used as resting places: Rattrap spotted a hawk nestled in its wings in one of the smaller ones. The others must have been used as escape tunnels, or something of the sort.
“Very impressive…” Rhinox said out loud to himself. Cheetor and Rattrap’s attention however was drawn to the femme bots. As far as males went, they were outnumbered. A smirk crept its way onto Rattrap’s face. I guess I’m not gonna miss Cybertron much this time…He snickered and rubbed his hands together, and nudged Cheetor, who just stared, mouth agape.
“How did you manage to build all of this?” inquired Optimus, prying his gaze away from the magnificent scene and onto the much smaller femme. He saw her hesitate, mouth slightly open, as if she was about to answer him, but for whatever reason held back the words.
“Well, the cave was already here,” she said, her optics dashing from left to bottom right as she continued to lead them, “we just…added a few things.”
“Hold it RIGHT there!”
They turned with a start.
“Ah, slag…” they heard the femme moan. Cheetor couldn’t help but feel nervous because the low, booming voice echoed through the cave like a siren.
“Stay where you are and put your hands up!” demanded the voice.
“Comply,” ordered Optimus, “we don’t want to seem hostile…”
They did as they were told, aware of many of the bots edging backwards, some reaching for their weapons. Rattrap looked behind him, and saw the spider monkey draw her own twin blades. She gave him a hopelessly apologetic look. Then, she nudged him in the back with her blade, forcing him forwards.
“Tanks fer nuttin, kid!” he sneered. She scowled. She was just following orders.
The four newcomers walked down an aisle bordered by a line of Maximals, and optics from birds, mammals and reptiles followed their every pace. They felt sheepish with their arms up in the air, as if they were about to perform some sort of silly dance.
They were forced to approach a rather large mech, whose beast mode appeared to be that of a grey wolf. Half of the beast’s head was on each shoulder, much like Rattrap’s, only this bot’s was, again, organic-looking. He appeared to have a fang necklace around his hulky neckline, which lay on top of a chest of white fur. His ‘muscular’ arms held his beast mode’s front paws off his elbow, and his legs were that of his hind legs. His face was blue, with fierce red optics, and a hungry look upon it. If looks could kill, Optimus would be shaking hands with his namesake right now.
“On your knees.”
They stared at him, flabbergasted by his tone.
“I don’t believe I stuttered…” he added, firmly. They obeyed, and dropped to their knees. To be fair, Optimus may as well have stayed standing, as his ginormity was overwhelming no matter what his position. Many of the bots observing him were relatively the same size. But who had ever heard of a giant metallic gorilla?
The mech in front of them huffed, obviously annoyed that he could not look his captive directly in the eye.
He shook his head, deciding it would not undermine his authority, the mech walked towards them. He looked each of them over, huffing and snorting occasionally. After what felt like an age, he backed away, hands behind his back and asked, “What are you? Hm? Some kind of mutant freaks?”
“Excuse me?!” cried Rattrap, insulted, “Seriously, is it the way we dress?” he asked Rhinox.
The wolf released a quick, harsh bark aimed at Rattrap. To this, Rattrap leaned forward about to retaliate, but he swiftly felt the blow of a large hand on the back of his head. The wolf-mech took a deep, hard breath, and pinched his nose ridge.
“Nightshaft?” he said, his head still down.
“Ya?” replied the spider-monkey femme behind them.
“Oh, so you gotta name, now, do yeh?” jeered Rattrap. She gave him, if possible, an even deeper scowl.
“Come here, please,” said the wolf.
“Why? What did I do?”
“Now!”
Optimus heard Nightshaft sigh behind him, and saw her walk the long way around him. He had a feeling she had been through this process before. She reached the mech, folded her arms, and sneered, “What?” He raised his head, a plastic smile upon his blue face.
“What are these unfamiliars doing in the base?”
“’Non and Vixen brought ‘em in,” she replied, shrugging.
”Really? And where are they now?”
“Repairs, of course. Them and these four were fighting Predacons.”
“What?”
“You heard me…sir.” she said, adding significant sarcastic emphasis to the last word. But her sentence still carried a serious tone. The nameless mechanoid narrowed his optics. His mind seemed to be going over a few things.
His anger seemed to dissipate. He was mulling this information over in his head, as if it were unusual or unheard of.
“You, Grey, should I get the boss?” said a macaw-bot behind the wolf. His plumage was bright red and his optics small, beady and black. He seemed particularly interested in the three Transmetal/Optimal bots.
‘Grey’ nodded.
“Awright! Man, this party gonna be trippin’!”
The macaw transformed into beast mode and soar to the roof of the cave and through a chimney. The wolf’s optics were now wide with worry. Optimus, on the other hand, had his own mission to worry about.
“You’re not in charge here?” inquired Optimus, who felt somewhat annoyed that he was being pushed around by someone who did not have proper authority. He lowered his arms and decisively rose to his feet, nearly cracking his head on a stalactite, and stated, “My name is Optimus Primal. I am on an important mission, and I wish to speak with your commander.”
The bot raised his brows, unimpressed by the disturbance of his thoughts.
“Our commander,” he said with a slight sneer, “will be here shortly, let me assure you.” He seemed a little more relaxed knowing that Optimus and his crew were not on the offensive…at the moment. He continued with a more friendly but formal tone, “For now, you’ll have to deal with me. The lieutenant.”
Optimus nodded respectfully. “Does my crew have permission to stand?” he asked, with a raised brow and a small smile. The wolf-mech nodded. Optimus heard three sighs of relief from behind him, as well as the mechanics of his friends’ joints as they rose.
“I’m afraid you now have me at a disadvantage, lieutenant. What’s your name?” Optimus asked.
It took a while for the mech to respond. He tilted his head, as if considering Optimus for any hint that this new bot might use his name against him.
“Greyback.” he finally answered.
Optimus held out his enormous orange hands in greetings, unsurprised by the look the gesture received. Many times on Cybertron he received similar looks brought on by his unusual size. Greyback took a finger, and the two mechs shook hands.
Quite suddenly, a male voice came from behind a stalagmite from behind the observing Maximals.
He hopped through the cave towards them with such speed, it was not until he ended up in front of the wolf bot, panting, that they saw he was a jerboa.
“Grey…” he said with some difficulty, a strong Earthen-Australian accent penetrating the breaths he was taking, “…trouble. Scanners’ve just picked up five Preds comin’ in fast. They don’t look happy, mate.”
Greyback’s optics immediately widened again. “They can’t come near the entrance. Send two scouts out there, and lead them away from the mountainside. I’ll be there as soon as I can. GO!”
Organised chaos ensued almost straight away. Once again, Optimus and his friends seemed to be lost amongst the crowd, moving in and amongst each other as they headed towards their stations for this particular situation. It was as if they weren’t there. Cheetor noticed Greyback running down yet another tunnel, Nightshaft in hot pursuit.
“Optimus!” he called, pointing to the wolf. Optimus nodded and signalled for his crew to follow them, regardless of anything going on around them. The Axalon commander would not be left hanging. These Maximals, whether under his command or not, were his responsibility. He had been sent to retrieve stasis pods: which meant the protoforms, activated or not.
He chased the wolf down a different corridor, which do doubt led to the other side of the mountain.
---
Outside, Optimus approached Greyback from behind, grabbed his shoulder and turned him lit a spinning top to face him.
“You? What do you think you’re doing?”
“This does not concern you…”
“I’m not in a very good mood at the moment, lieutenant. Thus far, I have not been able to speak to anyone in charge, and I refuse to be misinformed.”
Greyback growled. The nerve of this guy…
“You any good at negotiating?” he asked, gruffly.
“Are you kidding me?” came Rattrap’s high-pitched response, “This monkey could negotiate you all into a coma if yeh can stand the listen to ‘im that long…”
“Shut up, Rattrap.”
Greyback’s mood and tolerance was slipping. “If you must…” he said slowly through gritted teeth, “…stay back and keep quiet yourself. Hopefully we won’t actually need to negotiate...they’re the trespassers anyway…”
Optimus look at his comrades uncomfortably when Greyback said that.
They kept quiet, as agreed, and followed the party heading towards a densely vegetated forest area.
---
A little later, after a two minute walk down a well-worn track, they stopped. Someone had heard something up ahead
Cheetor’s optics widened with dread as the Predacon party stepped into the light. It was the three that they had encountered soon after their arrival: Gearcrush, Obertron and Serpentia. They were followed by two more in beast mode: a giant, florescent green praying mantis and a jet black raven.
Obertron stepped into a circle of sunlight, and Greyback did the same. Despite the obvious urge to rip each other’s sparks out of their compartments the two nodded to each other. Optimus made it clear to his own Maximals to stay back in the darkest shadows.
“I’m sure you have guessed why we have summoned you,” said the brawling, dramatic voice of the Predacon fuzor, “we are most disappointed that our treaty has been violated.”
“Stuff it, moth-breath. If you insist on bad-mouthing our friends I may have to bid you good riddance. Why are you really here?”
“We are here…for them…” he said, pointing a long, dishevelled claw at Optimus’ party.
“Why?”
“It is not your place to ask questions, you unsightly mongrel!” hissed Serpentia, who had been holding back the desire to strike a deadly bite at each of her escapees. Obertron and Greyback continued to stare each other down.
“As I was saying, you malodourous mutt, our truce has been broken. We were attacked by these newcomers, and thus it is our right to…”
He was interrupted by a loud roar from the canopy of leaves above. All fell silent.
A femme bot with a leopard beast mode landed in front of Obertron. The head covered her chest (as per usual for a standard organic transformer), and various beast parts covered the rest of her bosy. She had a gold helmet with cat-like ears, and a long spotted tail that flicked from side to side.
She stood up straight, confident against the larger Predacon menace.
“Ahh, how nice of you to finally join us, commander,” Obertron mocked, bowing deeply to the leopard. She folded her arms and remained still.
“Pleasure as always, Obertron. What’s all this about?” she asked, obviously in no mood to play around. She had a very “English” accent, and sounded very posh.
“As I was saying to your arrogant pup of a lieutenant, we were wronged by two of your troops.”
“How so?”
“Simply…they attacked us.”
“From what I’ve been told, they were defending four innocent Maximals that you had seized against their will.”
“They were trespassing. All of them. You know our agreement. No one enters our territory, and we stay off yours.”
The femme glanced behind her without rotating her head further than beyond her shoulder. They could not see her whole face, only bright blue optics, but they could tell she was scanning them, somehow.
After a while, she said slowly, “What do you want with them?”
“By our right, we take them in for…‘questioning’.”
Her optics narrowed. He knew she was not buying it.
“It is not my place to say,” he continued, “but either they come with us, or we will be at liberty to attack, by right of the truce agreement.”
“You can’t do that…” she said.
“Oh, but I can. They are not your Maximals. Therefore, they must come with us!”
“No. Because they are mine.”
“Say what now?” asked Rhinox, quietly. Good question, thought Optimus.
“They’re new upgraded models. Something I’m sure you lot want to get your mitts on. However, like I said, they’re with me.” she replied to Obertron.
“And how, pray tell, did you acquire such upgrades from what is available on this miserable planet?”
“That’s not for you to know…”
“I must warn you…if these new bots are not with you…they will come with us. Otherwise, we are at war…once again.”
“Once again.” she said. Optimus was surprised that she would sacrifice such a fragile peace for their sakes. It was very Maximal of her. Apparently, the other Maximals were just as surprised. Greyback looked as if he would explode.
The leopard femme walked casually towards Obertron. She suddenly grabbed his collar plate and pulled his face close to hers, so that only he could hear her when she whispered menacingly into his audio receptor, “Tell Khan his twisted little game has crossed several lines already. I’ve seen you both in our quadrants for the past several weeks, dismantling our communication posts. We were already at war. And if he pushes me, he knows what to expect…”
This seemed to instil some fear in Obertron. Something his leader had once told him about their foes came hurtling out of the back of his mind. She finally let him go, and he backed away.
“Very well,” he said, regaining his composure, “as you know, each side will have a quiet period of 30 megacycles. We shall meet again, Jagna.”
Her expression of abhorrence remained unchanged.
“Predacons, return to base!”
”And fuel up?” asked the raven Predacon with a grin.
“Indeed…” replied Obertron. They started their retreat, but the mantis stayed where it was.
“Annissssssss, what are you waiting for?” Serpentia snapped at the large insect.
“Why should we wait for 30 megacycles? If we are at war, I should feast now!” The Maximals leant back slightly at her menacing hunger.
“Gearcrush squish stupid insect! Bat say base now! Eat there.”
Disgruntled, the mantis withdrew, as did all five Predacons. Once they were out of range, the leopard named Jagna sighed deeply, and allowed her posture to slump forward in relief.
“What the slagging hell was that?!”
The observers were snapped out of their daze by Greyback’s furious enquiry.
He marched up to his leader, outraged, flung her round to face him and grabbed her by the shoulders. Optimus could see her face now. Her optics were big and piercing, and she had a very cat-ish face. And she looked young. Younger than him, at least.
Greyback started to shake her, hoping the madness would spill out of her ears if he did it hard enough.
“You would have us go to war for these…these…them?!”
With a snarl, the femme pushed Greyback off her. Still ignoring Optimus and his crew, she brushed herself off, and replied,
“Had I said they were not with us, Greyback, they would have been taken to Predacon headquarters. Tell me, Grey, would you have such an uncertain fate bestowed upon anyone?” She had moved close to him, and her tone was serious, solemn. His expression softened.
“No,” he replied, lowering his head.
“Mhm.”
She began to walk back the way they came from the mountain base. Optimus took this opportunity to finally confront the commander of this group of stranded Maximals.
He stood in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped, raised a brow ridge, and slowly looked up at him. He smiled down at her, which had become an automatic reaction for the looks he received.
“Yes?” she asked after a moment’s exchange of eye contact.
“I am Optimus Primal. Commander of the Warpship Hercules. I must speak with you, commander, I…”
She held up a hand, not looking at him. After 10 seconds, she shot up a look at him that gave him chills. Her optics were as thin as slate.
“You…” she began, her voice laced with contempt, “…have done quite enough, thank you.”
And with that, she casually walked under him between his legs. There enough room, and she had urgent matters to attend to. Fed up, Optimus Primal followed her. His Maximals were left staring at her Maximals. Greyback was calmer than he was a few minutes ago, but still seething, shooting the new Maximals dirty looks. Feeling awkward, Rhinox summoned Cheetor and Rattrap to follow after Optimus.
Once they had left, Greyback, clutched his head in his hands and let out a wolfish moan. Nightshaft had been observing quietly the whole time, and came up to the wolf bot and asked quietly,
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
“Big trouble. With a capital P…” he added darkly.
---
“Miss, please…just answer the question…”
“Are you deaf, or just plain ignorant?”
“Blackarachnia, please…”
“Am I alone here? I’ve told you three times already!”
“For the last time, we…”
“Bite me!”
A wave of uproars echoed through the great hall where the Maximal Elders continued to question Blackarachnia on her authenticity as a Maximal interrogator. The Maximal side were outraged that Claymor would have the nerve to ask, and the Predacons were just plain insulted that this fiery female defected from their side. It wasn’t anything to do with what was going on, but a time of uproar was the best time to express one’s anger without being thrown out of the delegation.
Silverbolt was particularly displeased with the Maximal elder’s accusation. The only reason Claymor was getting away with such insults was because Ultra Magnus was not present. Diamond Nine continued to protest to Claymor about certain personal rights and insulting their own interrogator. Soundwave, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. He continued to smile in that creepy way he had been doing for the past four weeks. That was how long this had been going on and off: the Council of Elders were not well known for the decisiveness, but rather for dragging things out longer than was necessary. It was mostly due to Ultra Magnus’ repeated absences. He never told anyone where he was going, or when. Therefore, all meetings were delayed until his return. Today, however, Claymor decided the meeting should go ahead. Of course, Diamond Nine insisted they wait once more for Ultra Magnus, but since Soundwave uttered no protest (nor agreement) it went ahead.
“Order!” yelled Diamond Nine. It took a little more time for the room to quiet down than if it were Ultra Magnus giving the order. She huffed, and asked the bots in the hall, “Do we feel that Claymor’s methods are necessary? We recruited Unit Blackarachnia as an interrogator for Megatron’s trial, and yet, here we are, interrogating her! What does it matter what faction she is? The whole point of the upcoming trial is that Megatron is a traitor to Cybertron! To all transformers, Maximals and Predacons alike, who wish for peace in our galaxy,” many of the Predacons muttered incoherently, but she did not notice, “This meeting was supposed to be a private one, to inquire about what Megatron might have said. It hasd now been blown out of proportion, and for what? I ask?” Blackarachnia smiled at the larger femme. Not many people were sympathetic towards the spider, if only because she was a former Predacon. “With my authority as a Maximal Elder,” Diamond continued, “I call for an immediate dismissal of this public fiasco, and return to the original plan…” she said to Claymor in particular.
There was a mutter of agreement from both sides. The trail of Megatron certainly wasn’t disclosed from public knowledge, but many Cybertronians wished to leave the good stuff till the trial itself.
“All in favour?” inquired Diamond Nine, raising her hand. Soundwave lazily raised his, to the surprise of many, including Blackarachnia. Even she, who could sense what people were thinking a mile off, could not determine who’s side he was on.
Soundwave had undertaken an upgrade several centuries ago, after Decepticons were granted amnesty. He was not a Predacon, like his old friend Ravage had become, but his physical appearance had certainly changed. While he still obtained the monotonic, droning voice he had always possessed, they had removed his mask. Hence, why he was now able to smile. Nobody liked this very much. He was much more creepy and sinister now that he had the power of expression. His alt mode was, too, different, simply for the purpose of the upgrade. All of his attachments, save ravage, had been destroyed by bounty hunters after the Great Wars, but somehow Soundwave escaped. It took him a while to get accepted back on Cybertron, formerly being the original Megatron’s right-hand bot. But somehow, no one is sure why, he managed to wriggle his way into the Council of Elders. Probably because he was one of the only remaining Decepticons, and it would have looked good to have at least on ‘former bad guy’ now on the side of right…much to many Autobots’ and Maximals’ protest.
Yet there he was, observing all before him, now siding with a Maximal Elder. He caught Blackarachnia’s eye once more, and smiled again. It was the only thing she had ever known that could make her skin crawl.
“Sorry, Diamond, but you need approval of at least three Council members to do that, and I say ‘Nay’. And no one can overrule except…”
”Overruled!” came a familiar, booming voice. Heads turned to see Ultra Magnus storm through the steel doorway towards the council panel.
“And just what is going on here? I’m away not two days, and this is what you get up to, Claymor.”
“We were merely eager to continue with this meeting so that the trial (somethings) may ensue, Ultra Magnus.” the slender mech replied, innocently. Diamond Nine scowled at him.
“That is not up to you, I’m afraid,” declared Ultra Magnus, “I agree with Diamond Nine, this has gone on for too long. You are all dismissed.”
”Hey…how long have you been here?” Claymor asked suspiciously.
“Long enough…” Ultra Magnus quietly replied. He caught eyes with Soundwave, and his blue optics narrowed. He never did and never would trust that Decepticon.
He turned his enormous self to face Blackarachnia and Silverbolt, who were just leaving with the others.
“Hang on, you two. I request a private meeting with you. Nothing Council-related, don’t you worry, this is private. I’ll see you in my chambers in two megacycles.
Still seated, Soundwave watched Ultra Magnus leave through the Elders’ exit.
Negative, Ultra Magnus. Nothing here is private…
---
Outside, once the area was clear of nosey delegates, Blackarachnia grumbled, “The nerve of that guy. Can you believe it Bolt? And to think I’d actually be treated the same as any of you Maximals here!” she exclaimed, raising her arms into the air as if praying it would all go away.
“Do not fret, my dearest. You are a Maximal in my eyes…” Silverbolt said lovingly, taking her hands in his and holding them close to him. She immediately yanked them away.
“Bleugh. You and your drivel. And not here, bone head…” he withdrew sadly. The spider femme looked left and right, and behind her.
She grabbed his collar plate and hurled him into a small, dead-end corridor, which was very dimly lit, smacking him gently into the wall.
“Okay. Now is good…” she said, smirking playfully. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down towards hers, and locked their lips together. Though surprised at first, Silverbolt quickly warmed up to this little game. He held her in close embrace, unwilling to let go. This was the first time he had been close to his love in a week, as they had both been very busy regarding each other’s new Cybertronian professions.
After a long while, Blackarachnia pushed her puppy away from her, and walked backwards in a seductive manner. The nice girl was gone, and now the girl she knew he fell for had come out to play. She beckoned him with her finger, slowly…
The bird dog growled softly. He walked towards her, unfurled his wings and created a sort of tent around them. He began to lean in closer when…
“Silverbolt!”
That made them both jump. They both stood to attention as a patrol bot named Blitz rolled towards them in his alt mode of a Cybertronian forklift. They heard him grunt in annoyance.
“Do you guys mind? I’m trying to work here. If I hadn’t noticed you in that hallway, you’d’ve been crated and halfway to New Iacon by now,” he exclaimed irritably.
“And just why would they want a corridor moved, buck tooth?” Blackarachnia asked, also annoyed.
“Beats me, I’m just doin’ my job. So beat it!”
“You cannot speak to her like that!” growled Silverbolt, stepping in front of her. The spider femme rolled her optics.
“Yeah, well you can’t speak to me like that, bub! You beast bots think you’re all that, well you’re no better than the rest of us, no matter who you’re friends are. Now for the last time, get outta here!”
He charged past them, making them jump out if his way. The watched him turn the corner into their private corridor, cursing something about ‘snooty security bots’.
“Ugh. Commoner. C’mon, bird brain, we have one and a half megacycles to kill till we meet the big M.”
”Where shall we go, beloved?”
“I have an idea…” she replied, winking.
---
Back on Earth, mass confusion filled the mountain lair. Bots in beast and robot mode were muttering to each other about the events that ensued earlier that day. The atmosphere was tense around Optimus and his crew, who were still believed the culprits responsible for this so-called new war.
The leopard femme was pacing, breathing deeply. Optimus watched her closely. She kept glancing over at them, not accursedly like the other bots, but she seemed to be considering what to do with them. He caught her optics: he recognised something within them, and it seemed she did too.
After a brief second she broke away, took one more pace and stood before her fellow bots.
“It’s a grim day, Maximals. Very grim. The Beast Wars…a war we have all heard tell about, a war the datatracks we recovered describe so vividly…has started again. For years we’ve managed to live alongside the Predacons of this planet with some degree of peace. And I stress the word ‘some’. Unfortunately, we’ve been expecting this for a long time now. As you all know, the Predacons have been repeatedly spotted in our sectors, doing Primus knows what. And you all remember that…‘incident’ not long ago…”
There was a mutter from the crowd. So they have been anticipating a war, thought Optimus.
“…and now we have some newcomers. Something that hasn’t happened for a while…” the look she gave them this time was humble, and almost welcoming, “…they are not to blame for any of this. Kahn has been planning this was since the beginning. They are merely the catalysts. But they’re now with us.”
Every pair of optics was on them.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” snapped Rattrap.
“Shut up, Rat Face…” Cheetor said, elbowing the Transmetal rat.
“Nomad, Streakhorn, contact the other bases,”
“Other bases?” Rhinox asked, confused. Jagna ignored him.
“Tell them Plot Omega has been deployed.”
The two Maximals, a dromedary camel and a gazelle, both nodded and headed towards what Rhinox assumed to be the control centre. Their console had looked awfully familiar…
“Skylark, tell all field units to return to home base. It’s not a good night to be out.”
Skylark, a tawny owl femme bot, stood up and said, “On it boss. Need me to reboot the systems for Omega?” Jagna nodded.
“Uh, mind if I come?” Rhinox piped in. The owl raised a brow ridge, very surprised. He scratched his head, “Well, if we’re a team now, I should get to know this base, and your computers. I am a tech after all…”
“That’s cool with me, rhino. Jag?” replied Skylark. The leopard nodded, and Rhinox followed the flier to the control centre.
“Sandskimmer, forward.” Jagna commanded. A mech with exceedingly long legs and a stout torso stepped forward. It was the jerboa they saw earlier. He even talked fast.
“Yeah Jag what can I do anything you command commander command me and I’m there it’ll b done faster than you can say pan galactic…”
“Quiet, you,” the leopard interrupted, smiling, “I need to go outside and activate the shield generator’s main auxiliary power units. They’re quite a way away and you’re the fastest here…”
A loud cough was heard coming from the crowd. It was Cheetor.
“Sorry, but I could outrun him in my sleep!” he gloated. Rattrap slapped his head. That cat never knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“Oh yeah?” retorted the jerboa Sandskimmer, “What makes ye think that sonny boy eh? Ye don’t look so hot to me, nosirree!”
“Well, for starters, I’m a Cheetah. And then there’s my turbo-accelerator booster jets,” his voice reeked of narcissism, which made Sandskimmer instantly dislike him.
“Want me to prove it, you furry jack in the box?”
“Ye’re on mate lessgo lessgo after 1 2…HA! Eat my dust furball!”
And he was off. Up a flight of stairs, with beast mode Cheetor in hot pursuit, crying, “NU-uh! Eat mine!”
“Um, excuse me! The power units?!” Jagna sighed, determining it was useless, and made her way down to the two remaining new mechs, Optimus and Rattrap.
“He’s yours, is he?”
“Unfortunately,” replied Rattrap, “but yeh get used to him…eventually…Oh, s’cuse me, where are my manners. Name’s Rattrap,” he grinned and gave her his hand as a semi-formal greeting. She took it, slowly.
---
Later, in a desolate part of the planet, in a secret underground lair…
Obertron and Serpentia looked at each other awkwardly. They were standing outside a large steel door in their own underground secret base. They said not a word to each other too loudly, and were battling over who would enter first.
“You are second-in-command, are you not? You go in, you wretched woman!” the ape/bat snarled at the cobra.
“And as ssssecond-in-command, I order you insssside now!” she hissed back.
All of a sudden, the door flew open, silencing them both. They scowled at each other once more, and entered together.
A terrible wheezing was filling the room. It was as if the occupant were on constant life support. But this was no new to the Predacons. It had been like this as long as they could remember.
“Well?” rattled the gasping voice, “Have you captured them?”
“No,” Obertron replied, not with his usual brawling smugness…his tone was static and monotonous.
The wheezing became quicker and heavier. “Then you have failed. Did you at least discover the location…(he breathed in coarsely)…of the Maximal base…whilst on their ground?”
“We believe we musssst have come closssse, for they were very sssswift meeting usssss,”
“That is not good enough!” the voice bellowed, causing it to choke, cough and splutter. Obertron and Serpentia cautiously approached to help, but they were hissed at and forced to withdraw.
The breathing then become slow and rhythmic, like a dull drum beat for a rowing team.
“Did you find anything out about them?” the voice asked.
“Nothhhhing. The ffffeline kept them out of sssssight.”
“No matter,” replied the voice, “this new development might prove useful…”
There was a silence. The wheezing has momentarily ceased. The two Predacons leaned forward with anticipation.
“…Bring me the one called…Optimus Primal…”
