Epoch:

Gatekeeper

By: Joshin Yasha

Beast Wars and all related belong to Hasbro. The story, its original contents and ideas, and any original characters belong to the author and cannot be used or reprinted without the author's permission.

Disclaimer: No money, no rights, no life. I own all original characters unless otherwise specified.

Dedications: Like usual, the story is dedicated to the writers for their excellent work. It's also dedicated to all the voice actors, especially David Sobolov and Campbell Lane, for bringing these wonderful characters (especially my favorites) to life. As well as the writers of Beast Wars, it's also for the people I love in hopes that this will show that one day I can do something better.

Author's notes: Well, it's my original series, revamped for a fourth time, but now with a lot less stereotypes (I hope).

I can feel him inside of me . . .

I can feel it, she's not dead . . .

Funny . . .

I'm laughing . . .

They thought they killed me . . .

. . .

They were wrong.

They say the darkness is the scariest part of being in stasis lock. They say that only the primal instincts thrive while the rest of the body lies dormant and repairing. That must have been why Misery's mind was still awake. She could think and feel, but she could not speak or hear. It was part of the big surprise when she awakened to find herself cuffed to the chair.

For a moment, she thought that Xyston was doing something kinky with the torture device, then it hit her that she was in Security Patrol authorized cuffs.

She opened her eyes and found two Maximals smiling at her; however, it was not the friendly smiles. They had the type that said 'Yeah, sure, whatever you say' and 'I'll believe that' all at one time. "Mornin', Starshine," the bot positioned behind the table chuckled.

"Misery," she closed her eyes and cracked her head back and forth, working the long megacycles of repair stiffness from her joints.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"My name is Misery. Designator code fifteen dash four dash thirty-six," she opened her eyes and stared unblinkingly at the two.

"Well that's nice to know since designator codes haven't been used since the Great War," the one at the table stood and paced around to lean close to her. "Of course, you don't look old enough to have been in the Great War, so I'm guessing you ditched your Deceptiscum shell and downgraded to a Predabait."

Misery tilted her head away from him and spoke to the one across the room. "You were there. You saw me shoot him. Tell your friend to back off."

"Give her room, Nainsook," the one across the room had leaned back against the wall. "Now, you, Misery; you're going to answer some questions for us."

Her optics revealed nothing as she allowed her vision to fuzz. An old trick, yet a good one. 'Look straight at them, let them break, but they can't break you.' "My name is Misery. Designator code fifteen dash four dash thirty-six," she repeated.

"We know that, ya stinkin' 'Con," Nainsook smacked the table with his palm and it was enough to shake Misery's eyes back into focus. "Why the Pit was that flat shot up?"

Misery glanced off to the side and allowed herself to settle in the chair. She let her optics go out of focus a second time. "My name is Misery. Designator code fifteen dash four dash thirty-six."

"Fine," Nainsook's counterpart stepped closer to the table and sat down. "We'll guess, and you'll tell us how right we are. First round goes to Nainsook."

"So, what? You're living with the Maximal the flat is registered to: Zeh-stun"

"Xyston," she corrected.

"And, thus, she answers," Nainsook walked over to another part of the table and placed several photos in front of the three. "Now, as I was saying. One of ya's a real loon and I'm betting it's you. Guns all over the place, musta been about twenty-seven twenty-eight guns. Here's where it gets good; you're using this Zeh-stun-"

"Zeye-sten," Misery corrected again. There was a small black dot on the wall. She would focus on that.

"Anyway, you're using him as a front man. You do your little dirty business, and he's the guy who takes the credit. Ain't no body afraid of a Deceptiwench," he pulled one of the photos close and threw it on the table. It was a picture of Blocker. Attached to it was a statement. "You've also got a bad attitude problem, so here's what happens.

"You get tired of this Maximal so you decide to knock him off. You start towards his flat and you're just writhing in anger because he's done something to really slag ya off. So, this guy here-," he picked up the picture and held it for her to see, "-doesn't wanna move out of the way for ya, and you shoot his head off to clear a path.

"Now, ya get to the flat, and find the Maximal, sadly, he's already there waiting for ya, prepared and all. You two try to talk it out for a cycle, but you came prepared. You have friends who met ya there, and you all just shoot the place the smelt up," Nainsook smiled. "The best part is this: after it was all done, you and your buddies agreed to dump his body somewhere.

"The only thing left for you to do is make it look like you went to try and be noble and save him. Maybe make us think you changed into a good, dear sparked soul. So, you have one of your buddies stay and you get all ready and everything and have him shoot ya up into stasis lock. Now, the only question that remains is this: where did you take Zim-eh-tee's body?"

"My name is Misery. Designator code fifteen dash four dash thirty-six," Misery continued staring at the dot. It was a pretty black spot on the white surface.

"Smelt you!" Nainsook roared in anger as he jumped up and slammed his hands on the table. If he were human, there would have been veins popping on his forehead.

"Out, Nainsook," the other ordered. When the hot-tempered Maximal tried to object, the other cut him off and gave him a threat that any Decepticon would be proud of. Actually, Misery was quite pleased at his retort and wondered why she had not thought of a similar threat decades ago.

"I roughed up your other partner a little and they pair you with that moron?"

The Maximal turned back to face her and smiled. It was . . . sparkmelting. "So, you can say more than twelve words."

"It depends upon who you ask. Some might say it was thirteen," Misery allowed her golden blue optics to re-align as she continued staring at the black spot.

"Either way, you're exceptionally intelligent. Enough to talk to those who are educated enough to think with their head and not their lugnuts. By the way, my name's Ultimatum," he extended his hand to her and she looked a question at him before she raised her hand and shook his. "Before you ask, I was watching you pick your way out of the cuffs. Grade A, mind you."

Ultimatum shoved the photos and statements off the table and she watched his every move. "Sorry, I just don't like cluttered things," he smiled again as he dusted his hands and leaned forward on the table. "So, just you and me, why don't you tell me exactly what happened."

"I am not truly sure. Someone wanted Xyston dead. They had to get through me for that," Misery allowed her eyes to wander the room. Now that there were no more obstructions, she could set to work on getting her skidplate out of the detention center.

"You know you're going to have to be more specific, especially since we already have a statement from the guy-whose-head-was-shot-off and more witnesses in that cavern coming forward. Each has a different story, but the High Command isn't going to care about that. The only thing they're going to care about is putting another Decepticon offline," Ultimatum focused on his hands before he looked back up to find that she was looking straight into his optics. "Odd, why's a Decepticon got blue optics?"

She spread her arms wide in a revealing-her-body gesture. "When I downsized I went to a Maximal factory. Xyston was an Autobot whom was there as well. We have been together since," she explained.

"Ah, that explains the optics then. You and Xyston, you're what? Lovers?" he asked.

"Just factory mates. Friends on another level. Never gave much thought to taking a lover," she sat her hands on the table and clutched them.

"We found both your guns if that's why you're twitching . . ."

She immediately stopped the action and had to force herself not to do it again. "You were an Autobot?" He nodded. No wonder he had a better understanding of Misery than his partner had. "That explains your retentiveness."

"Touché," he smiled. "Now, you would probably have a better chance of going with the lover story." He rubbed at the bridge of his pseudo-nose. "Cause you understand that I have to get a written statement from you so the tech bots can do a complete comparison while you sit in the lap of luxury down in one of our slag poor cells."

"Here I was thinking that no Autobot had a sense of humor," she almost could have smiled but she refused. Smiles were for friends, and when she found Xyston, she would give him the best smile she could make.

I must be going soft . . . they both thought at the same time, completely unaware of the other. It was then that Ultimatum collected the documents and photos off the floor and then called for blank documents for Misery to make her statement. It was going to be a long night.

What I give you here, today, is a glorious manifestation of how evolved we are. Today, we're going to demonstrate how we can now turn nanites into indestructible machines. The body will be impenetrable.

And what if this fails . . . ? What of the bot who this is being tested on?

Nothing will go wrong. I assure you that this volunteer has no ties with anyone should anything go wrong. He was brought here for the better of science and Maximal kind. This specimen is going to show you and everyone else that we can create a being of immense power that can do good for our kind.

You're talking about a super soldier.

Not entirely. This project could be used for such a thing, but I am focused on the better standard of life this will create. Remember the Quintesson Virus that almost wiped out life as we knew it? It was because of that that Autobots were forced to create Maximals. I'm saying that with an advancement such as this, we would never have to change our forms again.

You're worried that if Predacons were to release a virus on the Maximals that you would die. You're trying to secure your life for permanent, yes?

I am merely . . . trying to save our race from any further inconvenience. Is that a crime to you?

Maybe to the High Council. You are sure that no one knows about this?

I assure you, we are the only ones on this project. No others know of its existence.

I see . . . So what is the first thing to be done?

First we must alter the nanites, those inferior things on him now will fall off and be reprogrammed by our special techs. Until they can be laced with a stronger metal, that will leave the basic skeletal frame, spark, and processor to us.

Are we going to remove his mind?

No, that would be a waste, and we would only have to find one that's unused, and that would draw attention to us.

I see, so after we strip the body off, how do we make the spark immortal?

Well, first, you have to put it in a containment unit. Then we go to work on the body.

Misery glared at the ceiling. For having a staring contest, she was doing fine. Waiting out the reply from the High Command while enjoying herself in a cell was not fine.

"Misery," Ultimatum stood on the other side of the cell and looked in on her. "Looks like you're not going to be deactivated."

She sat up, curled her legs under herself, and blinked her golden blue optics. "You mean the Tripredacus Council kissed some High Council skidplate," she smiled nothing friendly. "I always hated them."

"Yeah, well those skidkissers just bailed you out. They even sent a representative for you. He's filling out the documents now," Ultimatum gave the command and the pale red energy bars began to shut down one-by-one.

Misery was already at the opening when the final bar disappeared. "Which one is it? He must have given a name."

"Uh, Gun . . . something or other," he paused to think as he removed the cuffs from her wrists. He was somewhat surprised to see that she had left them on that time.

"Gunslight," she closed her eyes and shook her head. "The worst of the enforcers."

"I take it you know him well," Ultimatum holstered his cuffs and escorted Misery down the long hall of empty cells.

"He and I have . . ." she searched for the word, "crossed paths."

"Tell me, is he still in his Decepticon form or is he just that big?" his optics grew wider as he waited for her to answer. "Misery?"

"I have not seen him in over four hundred years. He may have downsized, but I will not know until I see him," she narrowed her eyes. The last time she had been in contact with Gunslight was when she asked him to help her avenge those taken by the Autobots.

That was the first debt she had left unsettled. No doubt in her processor that Gunslight had come to hold Misery to her obligation.

"Wait," Ultimatum looked at her as they continued to walk through the halls of the detention center. "You said this guy's the enforcer. What's an enforcer doing here for you?"

"I honestly do not know. Gunslight scares the slag out of every Decepticon and Predacon that has crossed his path. Nothing stops him. The Tripredacus Council must have sent him to bring me home," she began once again to twitch her dactyls. She would give anything to have her guns back for this meeting.

"I hope he does whatever he does inside the law," Ultimatum stopped and glanced back to Misery, who had already discontinued her pacing. "Misery . . ." She stared blankly at the Autobot-now-Maximal. "Misery, this Gunslight doesn't kill people, does he?"

Fear laced her body. Gunslight was the only Decepticon that could put this much fear into anyone. She shuddered before she spoke, "There is nothing you can do to stop him. He does what he does because he knows that he can. It is frivolous to remotely think of doing anything." She did not mention attacking him. She had seen what he could do when attacked.

That was one bot she wished she never had to end up like.

"Misery," he took her wrist in his hand and measured her spark rate. "Primus save us, he can scare you that much?" She slowly nodded and shuddered. "Dear Primus, he kills for fun, doesn't he."

"That bot wears black and blue and carries his Decepticon insignia always," she shook her head, "and now that I know he is here I know that he is still in his form. He found a way to beat the Quintesson Virus. He must have. Nothing would make him change form."

"Primus . . . Misery, you don't have to go to him, there's another way out of here past him," he offered.

"No . . . no . . . he hunts and never stops. I would do myself more harm by running," Misery held her head high and silenced her body's cry of fear. "I will face him. I must face him."

"Are you sure? Misery, I can take you out the back door right now-"

"No! No . . . I must face Gunslight. No debts," she reminded herself and then began walking again. Ultimatum allowed his fingers to slip from her wrist before he trailed behind her. Misery knew Gunslight was here to take her home. Back to the Predacon wings. Back to the room where only the old tread.

Back to his lair.

"Misery," Ultimatum stopped her at the final door. "You still have a chance for the back door. You can still run."

"You Autobots could never understand. Gunslight already knows I am here. The more I delay, the angrier he could become. I am not as big as I used to be. I could not defend myself against him. No sense in running," she pressed the door open and almost broke the gears in her neck. Misery remembered that Gunslight was large, but she had forgotten that he was a Juggernaut. "Greetings, brother," she bowed her head low and waited to be acknowledged.

Gunslight lowered his head to gaze down on her smaller form. This Decepticon - this Juggernaut could only be compared in size to the Guardian robots or to Devastator. His massive form took up more room than it appeared to. Gunslight bowed his head to her. "Hello, sister," his voice was deep and shook the walls.

Misery stood tall again and gave the giant her full attention. "To what do I owe the honor for this long awaited reunion?"

Gunslight held his large hand out to her. Resting and awaiting her touch, her handguns were held in the palm of his hand. It was only after Misery had gained enough courage to take her weapons back that he spoke. "Business."

Misery did not dare take her eyes from Gunslight; such disrespect to one in higher power would not go unpunished. That, and it was bad karma to disrespect the one who came to free you. He looked to Ultimatum, "The Tripredacus Council expresses their gratitude for being alerted to this inconvenience."

Misery could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but it was too subtle for the Maximals to hear. Gunslight was loyal to the one true leader, as was she, and they were not afraid to disrespect the Tripredacus Council. They would die for their leader, not some front group.

"We appreciate your efforts in detaining one of our own, but we shall now take care of her," Gunslight listened to Nainsook's muffled rebuttal as he turned back to Misery. "Dear sister," he lowered his hand to her. "Would the lady like a ride to our destination?"

She bowed her head to him again and then turned her body so she could sit in his palm. Gunslight raised the much smaller Decepticon to his shoulder and allowed her to transfer to a better position. Every good warrior needed his hands free for every possibility.

"We shall take our leave," Gunslight turned to the Maximal in charge of the detention center. "Our surveyors will be looking into the flat and reporting what they find. If you'll excuse us . . ." Gunslight picked up his feet and began moving -just being able to watch those gears move was enough to cause awe.

It was only after the Decepticons had left that the Maximal commander pulled Nainsook and Ultimatum aside to speak with them. "I want you two to check out that flat. I don't care if it's crawling with Tri-Pred surveyors, I wanna know what happened."

Nainsook smiled, "To think I thought I was going to have a boring day." He cracked his knuckles and left to get the documents needed as proof of their search.

The commander glared at Ultimatum, "I mean it. I want more than just 'Preds found this' for the reports." The commander jerked a finger in Nainsook's direction. "I partnered you with him so maybe you could teach him a thing or two. Keep him in line, Ultimatum."

"Yes, sir," he saluted. "Question . . . what if Gunslight and Misery are going there?"

The commander thought it over a moment. "Then get as much information as you can from both the Decepticons."

"Understood, sir," he left to find Nainsook delightfully counting gunshells and strapping them into extra clips. "Let's go, partner."

Nainsook smiled, "I love goin' Decepti' huntin'!"