The Warrior's Path
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 10:01 pm
He had decided. As his sensei had taught him, a warrior needed to be resolute. Ironic, then, that the warrior’s interpretation of his master’s teachings had led him down a path that separated him from said master. Sensei had disapproved of his intentions, saying that he sought glory, not honor. But were they not the same thing? Glory could not be achieved without honor, and honor meant nothing without glory.
He walked through the hallways of the Astrological Imperium. Such a duplicitous hideaway was hardly becoming of the future conquerors of Cybertron. But then, the legends said that the original Megatron had founded the Decepticon movement amongst worse straights. The Predacons were repeating history, but they would learn from the mistakes of their ancestors. This new Megatron had assured him of a grand plan to wipe Cybertron free from the stranglehold of hypocritical, oppressive Maximals. They would succeed where the Decepticons had failed.
He hesitated at the entrance of Megatron’s personal office. Now he had reached the point of no return. Before he could even activate the chime, though, the door cracked open and a familiar violet form greeted him. "Ah, yes. Come to accept my proposal, have you?"
The warrior drew his sword and charged through the door. Megatron stepped back, a serious but confident expression. He did not flinch as the warrior pressed forward. Such was the courage of one worth following. He dropped down onto one kneejoint and presented the handle of his weapon to Megatron. "I, Dynobot, pledge myself to your cause," he rasped. "My sword is yours. I will stand by your side as we terrorize our enemies."
"Quite the theatrical flair you have," Megatron observed, before turning away to retrieve two cubes of energon. "Drink, my lieutenant."
Dynobot accepted the fuel and downed it in two gulps. "Lieutenant?" he repeated in between those swigs.
"But of course. You are one of the few Predacons with formal battle training. Don’t think I don’t know of your secret tutelage. A wise conspirator always researches his potential allies."
"How shrewd of you," Dynobot said flatly.
"I have the recruits, Dynobot, but they lack training. I will give you bodies, and you will give me an army. Understood?"
Dynobot paused, considering. "The Forbidden Arts are more than a bag of tricks. They are a way of life, and I have not proven myself worthy to mentor."
"Hang your code!" Megatron snapped. "Are you refusing to-"
"I am not refusing anything," Dynobot stated. "I have already sworn myself to your service, Megatron. I will teach your recruits some techniques, but I am forbidden from sharing the Dark Secrets with them."
That seemed to appease Megatron somewhat. "What can you teach them?"
"How to kill. Crush. Terrorize."
"That will be enough, then."
"Affirmative. Now, show me this army you have told me so much about."
Megatron smirked. "In due time, lieutenant."
[o]
The following deca-cycles tested every bit of patience Dynobot had. Despite his continual requests to see Megatron's army, he only met one or two recruits at a time: bumbling oafs like Weaponator and Terrorsoar, a fool lackey named Cyber-bug, and a sadistic, twisted scientist named Terriblas whom Dynobot trusted the least. The giggling sociopath irritated every one of his warrior's instincts, but Megatron dismissed his appeals to execute him.
Finally Megatron sent him out on his first mission, but it was not what he expected.
Dynobot suspected an intention to humiliate him by assigning him this chore. Petty vandalism was work for Weaponator and Terrorsoar. A warrior of his caliber was better saved for true enemies, not the barely-trained sentry who now fell limp to Dynobot's feet as he retracted his drill-sword from its spark core. Megatron had recruited him as an enforcer and personal honor guard. And now he was here, having to endure the company of Cyber-bug while they stole their way into a shipping yard to "procure" a vessel.
"Are you almost done?" Dynobot demanded.
"Hold the slaggin’ commline, will ya?" Cyber-bug retorted, snapping a claw for effect. The Engineering Academy dropout lacked hands, requiring an interface port to manipulate the computer. "My bee drones tell me there’s no one else around. We have plenty of time."
"That is what your pathetic toys said before this one showed up," Dynobot retorted, kicking the now-dead pile of scrap metal for emphasis. "Hurry up."
"I can’t believe Megatron saddled us as partners."
"Oho, that is funny," Dynobot snarled. "I was just cogitating that very same sentiment."
"Well if you hadn’t been mouthing off to him, maybe he wouldn’t send you away so much. I can’t stand the sound of your grating vocalizer either."
"You worship him blindly! Megatron is not infallible. I provide him with… alternative concepts. That is why I am his lieutenant and you are not."
Cyber-bug could have retorted, but his visor changed color to red. "I’m in the system!" he rejoiced.
Dynobot crossed his arms. "Finally! I didn’t think you would actually accomplish it."
"Oh shut up!" the black Predacon whined. "I’m uploading the virus now."
"Yes, the virus." Dynobot snarled. It seemed annoyingly convenient that Terriblas had been able to code such an advanced worm so easily. The program was intended to look like a uncomplicated act of petty defacement, causing all the computers within the station to endlessly loop the message "TRI-PREDACUS COUNCIL FOR SLAGGIES!" Once the station managers "recovered" the original systems however, one of their battleships would be missing from the manifesto… left free unguarded for Megatron's fliers to easily commandeer the next day.
"Done. Let’s get out of here!" Scorponok said as he withdrew from the systems and his visor returned to its yellow-gold tint. The screens throughout the room all went dead, casting the room in pitch black.
Fleeing like cowards into the night. It grated against every cog in Dynobot’s systems. But a Maximal patrol would be performing a fly-by over this Predacon installation in less than a cycle and Megatron had ordered them to remain undetected.
He understood that a frontal assault to take the ship was suicide and would reveal their hand much too soon, but it still wounded his pride. What was it his teacher had instructed him on their last meeting? He "sought glory, not honor"? In that respect, he was very much like the Autobot warriors he had crafted his new identity to imitate. But, ironically, this was far from glorious.
Cyber-bug transformed into a treaded industrial vehicle with claws and a crane. Dynobot shifted his form to that of a speedster clearly molded to invoke a reptilian shape. The Dynobots had once been a name that had struck terror into the sparks of his Decepticon forefathers. Someday, he would twist it; turn it into a name infamous on the other side. The name "Dynobot" would ring synonymous with a Predacon hero, not an Autobot strike force.
As they sped out of the terminal and made their way through the tarmac, it was looking as though they were going to make a clean getaway. Dynobot felt disappointment sweltering within. Was this how Megatron’s coup would start, not with a bang but with a simmer?
And then Dynobot got his bang.
Actually, it began with more of a phunt, followed by a croom! directly behind him. The next thing he knew, he was airborne. Transforming, Dynobot tried to land on his feet, but he hit the ground with too much inertia. Sparks emanated from his body as he skidded across the field. Finally getting to his feet, he found Cyber-bug had experienced a similar attack, though the fool had not been so quick to recover and was now pinned to the ground by an energy-net. Rather than attempt to free him though, Dinobot drew his sword and turned to face their attacker.
"Nice sword," a white and green mech said, his gritty voice almost conversational in its tone. The net launcher mounted on his left arm clicked as he powered it down and used his left hand to steady his rifle. This was no mere guard. "Now where do you think you’re going?"
"That is none of your concern, Maximal," Dinobot snarled, though inwardly he began to grow giddy. At last, a test of his mettle!
The stranger's faceplate curled into a smug smirk, as if confident in his assumed superiority. "Oh, I would say it is. The only time I ever see Predacons moving this fast is when they’re fleeing the scene of a crime."
Dinobot snarled, unsure whether to be enraged or impressed. So many Maximals believed themselves superior to his kind, but at least this one was honest about his bigotry. Dinobot almost admired that trait. If the Maximals were not so hypocritical, maybe he would resent them less. Living amongst Maximals who at least voiced their malice seemed like something he could more easily endure.
"You are an agent of the Maximal imperium, then?" he asked.
"Something like that. Normally I charge for this stuff, but I’d do it for free if I could. Gotta pay the bills though, you know? Energon doesn’t just grow on trees."
"Bounty hunter," Dinobot rolled the words around in his vocal processor, not liking the gravelly taste they left behind. Bounty hunters were merely mercenaries who pretended to stand for justice when all they really cared about were getting thrills out of violence. Especially the Maximal ones. "So, you are just going to shoot me whether I resist or not, I assume."
"I'm thinkin' about it," he said. "Thing is, my employer only hired me to track you down and deliver a message. But considering I found you fleeing from a starport that suddenly went dark, I just might turn you in to the Maximal police instead. I won't get paid as much, but they'll give a terrorist like you your just deserts."
He suddenly found himself intrigued. Perhaps this bounty hunter was different from the others, if only slightly. "Who is your employer, and what was his message?"
"He didn't give me a name, but his bank account checked out. Told me to carve 'One True Path' on your armor, by force if necessary. You Preds and your kinky traditions. It's a bucket of laughs."
That gave Dynobot pause. His master had hired this one, sent him not to deliver just a message, but a reminder. He was coming dangerously close to turning his back on his discipline. If he betrayed the True Path, then he was as one dead even in life. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Moonhunter. Don’t know if you heard of me, don’t care either way."
He had not. But right now it did not matter either way. "Face me, Moonhunter!" he challenged.
"Come again?"
"The 'bot who hired you would only have done so if you had some skill with a sword. One on one combat, bladed weapons. I challenge your honor, Maximal - that is, assuming you even have any." He invoked that hated faction name. The Maximals purported to stand for something, and even the ones who didn’t still attached a certain pride to their allegiance.
"You and I," he said slowly, adjusting the grip on his rifle, "have very different definitions of honor."
"You refuse my challenge?" Dynobot's voice rose, growing outraged – almost offended.
Moonhunter shrugged noncommittally. "Didn’t say that. I just wonder, what's in it for me?"
"If you defeat me, I will surrender to you peacefully," he said. He had no fear of extradition. He was certain his master was watching this from afar. If Dynobot proved his honor, then he would not have to fear falling into Maximal hands. His master would rescue him, and Dynobot would return to his side, break his ties to Megatron. Moonhunter truly had no idea what arcane forces were using him, the naïve fool.
The bounty hunter slowly lowered his rifle, then replaced it with a sword. Its blade crackled as energy surged over it. "All right," he said. "Let's see what happens."
The two ran towards each other. Dynobot raised his sword and unleashed a fearsome battle cry; Moonhunter lowered his blade and diverted his path at the last second, slashing across his side. Dynobot had easily anticipated such a feint however; the Maximal was easy to read. Likely he knew what the bounty hunter would do before even he did. Shifting weight onto one foot, he avoided the blade's edge just narrowly enough and brought his knee up. It impacted into Moonhunter's legs, sending him staggering.
Twisting around, Dinobot flipped his sword in his hand and brought it down to penetrate Moonhunter's back armor. Rather than struggle to recovering his footing like Dynobot expected him too, and thus raise his back directly towards his doom, the Maximal allowed himself to fall all the way to the ground, rolling to safety. Dinobot lost balance and plunged his sword into the ground; its drilling feature soon embedded it deeply enough to be stuck.
As Dynobot reversed the drill and yanked his sword free, Moonhunter returned to his feet and pressed his advantage; delivering a powerful kick intended to knock him away from his weapon before he could recover it. But Dynobot's grip remained true; as he staggered back he wrenched his sword free and brought it up to chest height just in time to parry a stab from his foe.
Thus they traded several jabs, slashes and blows. What Moonhunter lacked in training he made up for in a combination of experience and focused aggression. Neither was afraid to get their armor damaged; and within minutes of fast-paced swordplay they had each collected a half-dozen scratches, punctures and wounds in their exostructures. By this point, Dynobot would have to use the regeneration Megatron if and when he returned. A Predacon in such a state of disrepair would gather suspicion.
Their weapons impacted with sparks and both grabbed each others by the wrist-joints, grappling for supremacy. Their optics met. Dynobot could see the raw hatred in the Maximal's optics, and he knew. Something had happened to him, someone (or someones) had been terminated by Predacons; the echo of that loss reflected in his dark blue optics.
This Maximal crusaded for revenge against an entire species. Though Dynobot had lost no one, they were not so unalike after all.
"You fight well," Dynobot commented as they pulled away from each other and circled warily, like two predators. His Sensei had sent him an excellent challenger.
"I should. It's my life," he growled, all humor discarded. "You Cons never gave me a choice."
They charged to reengage the battle, but at that moment Moonhunter's back exploded. A slack-jawed shock of pain replaced his sneer as his optics went black and went fell limp at Dinobot's feet.
Perplexed, Dinobot looked up to see Cyber-bug, one of his missile launchers empty and smoking. With his other claw he struggled to free himself from the last of the static bonds holding him. Dinobot snarled. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Well ex-cuse me. I was a bit tied up," the thug answered, presuming Dynobot's outrage was directed at his delay, not his interruption. "And I wasn't able to get a clear shot til now!"
Dynobot snarled but said nothing. With his optic blasters he shot the final generator binding Cyber-bug's legs, freeing him. Cyber-bug mumbled a begrudging thanks and approached the fallen Maximal. Opening his claw, he armed another missile and aimed it at the gaping hole in Moonhunter's back.
"No!" Dynobot yelled, grabbing Cyber-bug by the arm and twisting the launcher at his head. He moved faster than his fellow Predacon could even register, and Cyber-bug gasped when his own missile was suddenly in his face.
"This one has proven himself a worthy foe. It should not have interfered in my fight." He released his grip on his "partner." As Cyber-bug cradled his arm, Dynobot transformed. "Leave him," he ordered. "When next we meet, we shall finish what we started."
Cyber-bug seemed baffled but obeyed. As they sped off, Dynobot sent a secret transmission to the Maximal patrol. They would find Moonhunter and, as Maximals were so fond of doing, rescue their fallen comrade.
And in the back of his mind, he wondered what his Master, Bludgeon, would say about him sparing a foe.
[o]
Once again, Dynobot felt his dignity stinging as yet another mission ended with them not fighting, but retreating. It grated every atom of his being to flee from two mere sentries. He knew he could not count on his Sensei sending another test and more than likely, Megatron would just cut down any challengers rather than allow Dynobot to fight. His leader had what they came for: the Golden Disk.
Dynobot raged as they fled. That was what that they had risked everything for? Not some great weapon, but a dusty artifact? Megatron refused to explain himself as they fled, or as a Predacon warship dove down from the skies and swooped them up.
As Dynobot and Cyber-bug followed Megatron aboard the vessel and headed for the bridge, Dynobot could only wonder one thing: where were the soldiers? The decks of the ship were all distinctively devoid of troops. As they entered the bridge, Dynobot spied three others, whom Megatron introduced as Terriblas, Terrorsoar and Weaponator.
"Now do we do rendezvous with our army?" Dynobot questioned.
Everyone turned to give him a blank stare. Dynobot clenched his servos. "Well?" he demanded.
"Why, Dynobot," Megatron said as he took a seat in the mobile command chair and raised it into the air. "I believe you have inferred incorrectly. These fine Predacons are our army."
"WHAT!?" Dynobot screamed. Rage boiled up and permeated his spark. "You have betrayed me, Megatron!"
"I did no such thing!" he snapped. "It is not my fault if you let your imagination get the better of you. Besides, once Terriblas has decrypted the coordinated hidden within the disk, we will be able to harness more power than you can ever imagine. We won’t need a legion to accomplish our mission."
"You had better be right, Megatron," he snarled.
Cyber-bug tensed. "Is that a threat?"
"A warning," Dynobot said as he folded his arms, standing still while the ship trembled and jumped into hyperspace. Everyone grabbed their seats and struggled to retain their balance, except him. He remained standing through it all. "No more secrets, Megatron. I demand full disclosure."
"And you shall have it," Megatron said, folding his hands and leaning into them. "Now, my Predacons, let me tell you a story, about my namesake and his time on Earth…"
He walked through the hallways of the Astrological Imperium. Such a duplicitous hideaway was hardly becoming of the future conquerors of Cybertron. But then, the legends said that the original Megatron had founded the Decepticon movement amongst worse straights. The Predacons were repeating history, but they would learn from the mistakes of their ancestors. This new Megatron had assured him of a grand plan to wipe Cybertron free from the stranglehold of hypocritical, oppressive Maximals. They would succeed where the Decepticons had failed.
He hesitated at the entrance of Megatron’s personal office. Now he had reached the point of no return. Before he could even activate the chime, though, the door cracked open and a familiar violet form greeted him. "Ah, yes. Come to accept my proposal, have you?"
The warrior drew his sword and charged through the door. Megatron stepped back, a serious but confident expression. He did not flinch as the warrior pressed forward. Such was the courage of one worth following. He dropped down onto one kneejoint and presented the handle of his weapon to Megatron. "I, Dynobot, pledge myself to your cause," he rasped. "My sword is yours. I will stand by your side as we terrorize our enemies."
"Quite the theatrical flair you have," Megatron observed, before turning away to retrieve two cubes of energon. "Drink, my lieutenant."
Dynobot accepted the fuel and downed it in two gulps. "Lieutenant?" he repeated in between those swigs.
"But of course. You are one of the few Predacons with formal battle training. Don’t think I don’t know of your secret tutelage. A wise conspirator always researches his potential allies."
"How shrewd of you," Dynobot said flatly.
"I have the recruits, Dynobot, but they lack training. I will give you bodies, and you will give me an army. Understood?"
Dynobot paused, considering. "The Forbidden Arts are more than a bag of tricks. They are a way of life, and I have not proven myself worthy to mentor."
"Hang your code!" Megatron snapped. "Are you refusing to-"
"I am not refusing anything," Dynobot stated. "I have already sworn myself to your service, Megatron. I will teach your recruits some techniques, but I am forbidden from sharing the Dark Secrets with them."
That seemed to appease Megatron somewhat. "What can you teach them?"
"How to kill. Crush. Terrorize."
"That will be enough, then."
"Affirmative. Now, show me this army you have told me so much about."
Megatron smirked. "In due time, lieutenant."
[o]
The following deca-cycles tested every bit of patience Dynobot had. Despite his continual requests to see Megatron's army, he only met one or two recruits at a time: bumbling oafs like Weaponator and Terrorsoar, a fool lackey named Cyber-bug, and a sadistic, twisted scientist named Terriblas whom Dynobot trusted the least. The giggling sociopath irritated every one of his warrior's instincts, but Megatron dismissed his appeals to execute him.
Finally Megatron sent him out on his first mission, but it was not what he expected.
Dynobot suspected an intention to humiliate him by assigning him this chore. Petty vandalism was work for Weaponator and Terrorsoar. A warrior of his caliber was better saved for true enemies, not the barely-trained sentry who now fell limp to Dynobot's feet as he retracted his drill-sword from its spark core. Megatron had recruited him as an enforcer and personal honor guard. And now he was here, having to endure the company of Cyber-bug while they stole their way into a shipping yard to "procure" a vessel.
"Are you almost done?" Dynobot demanded.
"Hold the slaggin’ commline, will ya?" Cyber-bug retorted, snapping a claw for effect. The Engineering Academy dropout lacked hands, requiring an interface port to manipulate the computer. "My bee drones tell me there’s no one else around. We have plenty of time."
"That is what your pathetic toys said before this one showed up," Dynobot retorted, kicking the now-dead pile of scrap metal for emphasis. "Hurry up."
"I can’t believe Megatron saddled us as partners."
"Oho, that is funny," Dynobot snarled. "I was just cogitating that very same sentiment."
"Well if you hadn’t been mouthing off to him, maybe he wouldn’t send you away so much. I can’t stand the sound of your grating vocalizer either."
"You worship him blindly! Megatron is not infallible. I provide him with… alternative concepts. That is why I am his lieutenant and you are not."
Cyber-bug could have retorted, but his visor changed color to red. "I’m in the system!" he rejoiced.
Dynobot crossed his arms. "Finally! I didn’t think you would actually accomplish it."
"Oh shut up!" the black Predacon whined. "I’m uploading the virus now."
"Yes, the virus." Dynobot snarled. It seemed annoyingly convenient that Terriblas had been able to code such an advanced worm so easily. The program was intended to look like a uncomplicated act of petty defacement, causing all the computers within the station to endlessly loop the message "TRI-PREDACUS COUNCIL FOR SLAGGIES!" Once the station managers "recovered" the original systems however, one of their battleships would be missing from the manifesto… left free unguarded for Megatron's fliers to easily commandeer the next day.
"Done. Let’s get out of here!" Scorponok said as he withdrew from the systems and his visor returned to its yellow-gold tint. The screens throughout the room all went dead, casting the room in pitch black.
Fleeing like cowards into the night. It grated against every cog in Dynobot’s systems. But a Maximal patrol would be performing a fly-by over this Predacon installation in less than a cycle and Megatron had ordered them to remain undetected.
He understood that a frontal assault to take the ship was suicide and would reveal their hand much too soon, but it still wounded his pride. What was it his teacher had instructed him on their last meeting? He "sought glory, not honor"? In that respect, he was very much like the Autobot warriors he had crafted his new identity to imitate. But, ironically, this was far from glorious.
Cyber-bug transformed into a treaded industrial vehicle with claws and a crane. Dynobot shifted his form to that of a speedster clearly molded to invoke a reptilian shape. The Dynobots had once been a name that had struck terror into the sparks of his Decepticon forefathers. Someday, he would twist it; turn it into a name infamous on the other side. The name "Dynobot" would ring synonymous with a Predacon hero, not an Autobot strike force.
As they sped out of the terminal and made their way through the tarmac, it was looking as though they were going to make a clean getaway. Dynobot felt disappointment sweltering within. Was this how Megatron’s coup would start, not with a bang but with a simmer?
And then Dynobot got his bang.
Actually, it began with more of a phunt, followed by a croom! directly behind him. The next thing he knew, he was airborne. Transforming, Dynobot tried to land on his feet, but he hit the ground with too much inertia. Sparks emanated from his body as he skidded across the field. Finally getting to his feet, he found Cyber-bug had experienced a similar attack, though the fool had not been so quick to recover and was now pinned to the ground by an energy-net. Rather than attempt to free him though, Dinobot drew his sword and turned to face their attacker.
"Nice sword," a white and green mech said, his gritty voice almost conversational in its tone. The net launcher mounted on his left arm clicked as he powered it down and used his left hand to steady his rifle. This was no mere guard. "Now where do you think you’re going?"
"That is none of your concern, Maximal," Dinobot snarled, though inwardly he began to grow giddy. At last, a test of his mettle!
The stranger's faceplate curled into a smug smirk, as if confident in his assumed superiority. "Oh, I would say it is. The only time I ever see Predacons moving this fast is when they’re fleeing the scene of a crime."
Dinobot snarled, unsure whether to be enraged or impressed. So many Maximals believed themselves superior to his kind, but at least this one was honest about his bigotry. Dinobot almost admired that trait. If the Maximals were not so hypocritical, maybe he would resent them less. Living amongst Maximals who at least voiced their malice seemed like something he could more easily endure.
"You are an agent of the Maximal imperium, then?" he asked.
"Something like that. Normally I charge for this stuff, but I’d do it for free if I could. Gotta pay the bills though, you know? Energon doesn’t just grow on trees."
"Bounty hunter," Dinobot rolled the words around in his vocal processor, not liking the gravelly taste they left behind. Bounty hunters were merely mercenaries who pretended to stand for justice when all they really cared about were getting thrills out of violence. Especially the Maximal ones. "So, you are just going to shoot me whether I resist or not, I assume."
"I'm thinkin' about it," he said. "Thing is, my employer only hired me to track you down and deliver a message. But considering I found you fleeing from a starport that suddenly went dark, I just might turn you in to the Maximal police instead. I won't get paid as much, but they'll give a terrorist like you your just deserts."
He suddenly found himself intrigued. Perhaps this bounty hunter was different from the others, if only slightly. "Who is your employer, and what was his message?"
"He didn't give me a name, but his bank account checked out. Told me to carve 'One True Path' on your armor, by force if necessary. You Preds and your kinky traditions. It's a bucket of laughs."
That gave Dynobot pause. His master had hired this one, sent him not to deliver just a message, but a reminder. He was coming dangerously close to turning his back on his discipline. If he betrayed the True Path, then he was as one dead even in life. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Moonhunter. Don’t know if you heard of me, don’t care either way."
He had not. But right now it did not matter either way. "Face me, Moonhunter!" he challenged.
"Come again?"
"The 'bot who hired you would only have done so if you had some skill with a sword. One on one combat, bladed weapons. I challenge your honor, Maximal - that is, assuming you even have any." He invoked that hated faction name. The Maximals purported to stand for something, and even the ones who didn’t still attached a certain pride to their allegiance.
"You and I," he said slowly, adjusting the grip on his rifle, "have very different definitions of honor."
"You refuse my challenge?" Dynobot's voice rose, growing outraged – almost offended.
Moonhunter shrugged noncommittally. "Didn’t say that. I just wonder, what's in it for me?"
"If you defeat me, I will surrender to you peacefully," he said. He had no fear of extradition. He was certain his master was watching this from afar. If Dynobot proved his honor, then he would not have to fear falling into Maximal hands. His master would rescue him, and Dynobot would return to his side, break his ties to Megatron. Moonhunter truly had no idea what arcane forces were using him, the naïve fool.
The bounty hunter slowly lowered his rifle, then replaced it with a sword. Its blade crackled as energy surged over it. "All right," he said. "Let's see what happens."
The two ran towards each other. Dynobot raised his sword and unleashed a fearsome battle cry; Moonhunter lowered his blade and diverted his path at the last second, slashing across his side. Dynobot had easily anticipated such a feint however; the Maximal was easy to read. Likely he knew what the bounty hunter would do before even he did. Shifting weight onto one foot, he avoided the blade's edge just narrowly enough and brought his knee up. It impacted into Moonhunter's legs, sending him staggering.
Twisting around, Dinobot flipped his sword in his hand and brought it down to penetrate Moonhunter's back armor. Rather than struggle to recovering his footing like Dynobot expected him too, and thus raise his back directly towards his doom, the Maximal allowed himself to fall all the way to the ground, rolling to safety. Dinobot lost balance and plunged his sword into the ground; its drilling feature soon embedded it deeply enough to be stuck.
As Dynobot reversed the drill and yanked his sword free, Moonhunter returned to his feet and pressed his advantage; delivering a powerful kick intended to knock him away from his weapon before he could recover it. But Dynobot's grip remained true; as he staggered back he wrenched his sword free and brought it up to chest height just in time to parry a stab from his foe.
Thus they traded several jabs, slashes and blows. What Moonhunter lacked in training he made up for in a combination of experience and focused aggression. Neither was afraid to get their armor damaged; and within minutes of fast-paced swordplay they had each collected a half-dozen scratches, punctures and wounds in their exostructures. By this point, Dynobot would have to use the regeneration Megatron if and when he returned. A Predacon in such a state of disrepair would gather suspicion.
Their weapons impacted with sparks and both grabbed each others by the wrist-joints, grappling for supremacy. Their optics met. Dynobot could see the raw hatred in the Maximal's optics, and he knew. Something had happened to him, someone (or someones) had been terminated by Predacons; the echo of that loss reflected in his dark blue optics.
This Maximal crusaded for revenge against an entire species. Though Dynobot had lost no one, they were not so unalike after all.
"You fight well," Dynobot commented as they pulled away from each other and circled warily, like two predators. His Sensei had sent him an excellent challenger.
"I should. It's my life," he growled, all humor discarded. "You Cons never gave me a choice."
They charged to reengage the battle, but at that moment Moonhunter's back exploded. A slack-jawed shock of pain replaced his sneer as his optics went black and went fell limp at Dinobot's feet.
Perplexed, Dinobot looked up to see Cyber-bug, one of his missile launchers empty and smoking. With his other claw he struggled to free himself from the last of the static bonds holding him. Dinobot snarled. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Well ex-cuse me. I was a bit tied up," the thug answered, presuming Dynobot's outrage was directed at his delay, not his interruption. "And I wasn't able to get a clear shot til now!"
Dynobot snarled but said nothing. With his optic blasters he shot the final generator binding Cyber-bug's legs, freeing him. Cyber-bug mumbled a begrudging thanks and approached the fallen Maximal. Opening his claw, he armed another missile and aimed it at the gaping hole in Moonhunter's back.
"No!" Dynobot yelled, grabbing Cyber-bug by the arm and twisting the launcher at his head. He moved faster than his fellow Predacon could even register, and Cyber-bug gasped when his own missile was suddenly in his face.
"This one has proven himself a worthy foe. It should not have interfered in my fight." He released his grip on his "partner." As Cyber-bug cradled his arm, Dynobot transformed. "Leave him," he ordered. "When next we meet, we shall finish what we started."
Cyber-bug seemed baffled but obeyed. As they sped off, Dynobot sent a secret transmission to the Maximal patrol. They would find Moonhunter and, as Maximals were so fond of doing, rescue their fallen comrade.
And in the back of his mind, he wondered what his Master, Bludgeon, would say about him sparing a foe.
[o]
Once again, Dynobot felt his dignity stinging as yet another mission ended with them not fighting, but retreating. It grated every atom of his being to flee from two mere sentries. He knew he could not count on his Sensei sending another test and more than likely, Megatron would just cut down any challengers rather than allow Dynobot to fight. His leader had what they came for: the Golden Disk.
Dynobot raged as they fled. That was what that they had risked everything for? Not some great weapon, but a dusty artifact? Megatron refused to explain himself as they fled, or as a Predacon warship dove down from the skies and swooped them up.
As Dynobot and Cyber-bug followed Megatron aboard the vessel and headed for the bridge, Dynobot could only wonder one thing: where were the soldiers? The decks of the ship were all distinctively devoid of troops. As they entered the bridge, Dynobot spied three others, whom Megatron introduced as Terriblas, Terrorsoar and Weaponator.
"Now do we do rendezvous with our army?" Dynobot questioned.
Everyone turned to give him a blank stare. Dynobot clenched his servos. "Well?" he demanded.
"Why, Dynobot," Megatron said as he took a seat in the mobile command chair and raised it into the air. "I believe you have inferred incorrectly. These fine Predacons are our army."
"WHAT!?" Dynobot screamed. Rage boiled up and permeated his spark. "You have betrayed me, Megatron!"
"I did no such thing!" he snapped. "It is not my fault if you let your imagination get the better of you. Besides, once Terriblas has decrypted the coordinated hidden within the disk, we will be able to harness more power than you can ever imagine. We won’t need a legion to accomplish our mission."
"You had better be right, Megatron," he snarled.
Cyber-bug tensed. "Is that a threat?"
"A warning," Dynobot said as he folded his arms, standing still while the ship trembled and jumped into hyperspace. Everyone grabbed their seats and struggled to retain their balance, except him. He remained standing through it all. "No more secrets, Megatron. I demand full disclosure."
"And you shall have it," Megatron said, folding his hands and leaning into them. "Now, my Predacons, let me tell you a story, about my namesake and his time on Earth…"
