Lost Touch: Part 2

Lost Touch

Part Two

Inferno was deeply underestimated. Everyone assumed he'd go tearing out after Rampage in a blind rage and that would be that. Inferno was wiser. He knew charging in headstrong would get him nowhere. It was a lesson he'd learnt from the Royalty. He needed a strategy of some kind. He was unused to making his own plans having taken orders his whole life, so he was taking a while in coming up with something which would properly avenge the death of his leader.

He'd emerged from the C.R. tank shortly after Quickstrike had left and had been absently keeping track of his movements while he worked on a plan. It hadn't been surprising when the fuzor's signature suddenly vanished. It was a rather grim reminder of what Rampage was capable of. Inferno did not fear death, he feared failure. Whatever he did in a tribute to Megatron, he had to make it count.

But how do you stop an eighteen foot killer crab? Inferno was a tough fighter, but he wasn't tough enough, at least not alone. It occurred to him that he needn't be alone in the hunt of Rampage. The Maximals wanted him gone, too, especially one Maximal in particular. It didn't take a genius to see that Depth Charge didn't agree with the way Optimus Primal handled things. If approached at the right time and given a good offer, he might be swayed in joining him. Usually the idea of allying himself with a Maximal would seem preposterous, but as far as Inferno knew, he was the only Predacon left. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was the best he could come up with. He needed to go to the area of the Ark anyway, to collect the corpse of his leader for a proper funeral. If he encountered Depth Charge while there, he'd propose his idea. With that resolution in mind, Inferno set out for the Ark's perimeter. He flew and was careful not to fly over any forests. One SAM from Rampage was all it would take to ground him. Even in the air, one was not safe....

Myst had decided to stay in her quarters for the most of the day. It was late afternoon now and she was tired of brooding at her blank desk, listening to some of Cheetor's dreadful music and trying to forget about the events of the past few days. She'd manually shut down for a few hours, forcing herself to take unneeded recharge. She simply didn't want to be awake. If the Maximals had come in to bother her, they would have found her limp and unresponsive at her desk. She didn't care. She didn't want to discuss Rampage or anything else with them.

When her internal timer roused her from stasis she found herself stiff and a little sore. She really should have walked the three meters to her bed, but the decision to shut down had been rather impulsive. Myst hadn't cried in stellar cycles, and she refused to allow herself to cry over him.

She did, however, feel mildly better. Well enough, she decided, to venture outside her room and ask for directions to the holding cell where Waspinator was kept. She wanted to see him. There was no real reason to talk to him, other than deep down inside she felt frustratingly lonely and desperate and Waspinator was, in her mind, the only person she could confide in. He could relate, having been involved in this whole mess. She also was filled with a reluctant curiosity as to what Rampage had actually said and done to him.

She opened her door and stepped out into the gloomy passageway. Not really having any direction to go, she chose right and decided to explore the base until she found someone to lead her to the cell, or she discovered it herself.

Two corners later she bumped into her least favourite bot.

"An' just where do ya think you're goin', missy?"

Myst had actually walked into Rattrap. They'd been turning the same corner from opposite sides simultaneously, fortunately slowly. She took two steps back and regarded him coolly.

"Just walking. I'm one of your team now - I assume I have the privilege of walking in base."

"'Fess up, girl. What're ya really after?"

"Why do you think I'm after anything?"

Rattrap folded his arms and smirked a little. "Because I'm a bot who's often up ta things myself. I can tell right away when someone's got an agenda on deir mind. I can see it in deir eyes."

Myst glanced towards the heavens and sighed. "Fine, where's Waspinator's holding cell? I'd like to talk to him."

Rattrap's half-smirk immediately disappeared. "Why?"

Myst fought to keep her anger and impatience in check. "Waspinator's a victim in this situation too, you know. I just want to check up on him. Ask him some things about...about yesterday. You know he could offer some useful info."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. An' even if he does, I'd rather be there than leavin' you wid' him alone. Ya might try somethin' an' yes, before ya ask, I'll tell ya straight dat I don't trust you."

"Well now, can you tell me straight that you don't trust me because I sided with a killer unknowingly, or because I'm a Predacon? Or ex-Predacon, if we're to be technical," Myst asked challengingly. She was an empath and as such, she could detect the sheer volume of hatred Rattrap emitted when he was around her. He disliked her far more than was logical and had that same look of contempt in his eyes she had seen all too often before.

"Both," Rattrap stated simply, turned and with a slight gesture of his hand, beckoned her to follow him. Myst blinked, surprised that he had decided to help her out after all, and walked after him.

As they headed towards the holding cell, Rattrap started asking questions.

"So tell me. What did Rampage actually say dat made you look past da noticeable look 'o insanity in his eyes, da violent tendencies, da fearsome appearance even, and decide ta trust him?" Rattrap questioned without turning his head to look back at her.

Myst's footsteps faltered for a second but she regained her pace, reminding herself that losing her nerve was exactly what Rattrap wanted her to do, to prove whatever point he was out to make.

"I've already suffered this interrogation. I don't fancy repeating myself," she replied restrainedly.

"Nevah explained it ta me, or anyone else I know," Rattrap snorted.

Myst refused to answer to that. "Come on, tell me. I'm dyin' ta know," he pressed sarcastically.

"I'm an opportunist, like yourself, rat," she spat the last word. "He offered me food and protection. I was wary of him, but I was also in a fairly desperate position. I'd rather have taken my chances with a rebel than join either faction."

Rattrap stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. Myst too stopped, dreading his next few words. There was restrained fury in every inch of his body as he made that turn.

"Do ya even know what Rampage did on Omicron?"

"Now I do, yes, but I didn't at the time. Simple as that. Now drop it, ok?" Myst urged irritably, hands twitching towards balling into fists.

"Don't look like his atrocities have affected you much. But den I suppose impassiveness is to be expected from a bot whose morals are Predacon. It was, after all, a Maximal colony he massacred."

He was pushing her buttons dangerously now. The 'morals' he spoke of Myst had abandoned long ago. It suddenly made her question why she was here at all. Part of the reason she hadn't gone back to Rampage was because it was unethical to ally herself with a killer. But listening to Rattrap talk to her derisively about Predacon morality made her question why she bothered with ethics at all.

"You know what? Had it been a colony of Preds, I still wouldn't have cared much. Seriously And factions? I don't care for them. As for morals... I cling to a few only because it's the right thing to do. But if it satisfies your prejudice, Rattrap, if Rampage came in here right now and hacked your stupid head off, I wouldn't give a Predacon or Maximal slag."

Rattrap stared at her and shock crept into his eyes. His contemptuous _expression remained and after a tense moment of silence between them, he snorted haughtily and turned around. They continued without speaking down the hallway and turned into another, which had one door on the right. Rattrap stopped at this door and punched in a code. It slid open. He gestured to her to go inside.

"Your buzzing little buddy is in here," he said gruffly.

Myst walked to the entrance and stepped into a dark, mostly empty room with a power-bond cage in the centre. She turned around when she didn't hear Rattrap's footsteps. He was waiting at the door.

"Aren't you going to come in and monitor that we don't plot?" Myst asked sourly.

Rattrap shook his head slowly, dark hatred never leaving his gaze. "Nah, I've nuthin' ta fear from you. What you and dat miserable bug say to each other don't interest me." With that he closed the door. It shut with an ominous, echoing clang. Myst stared at it as she ruminated over his last words for a few seconds. Eventually, she disregarded any hidden meanings there may have been in them. Maybe he just was an injured, racist fool who'd been burned by Preds somewhere in his distant past. There was hurt at the core of his anger, but she didn't care what had caused it.

With a dismissive snort, she slowly turned to face the prisoner.

Optimus absorbed the information being presented to him on the main computer screen. The data displayed informed him of their current energon reserves. They were low and needed replenishing. It also gave him a weather forecast for the next twenty-four hours. According to energy readings, one tremendous storm was brewing and it would hit this evening and remain set for at least two days. As the day was beginning to draw to a close, he realized that if they didn't go and retrieve energon now, they'd be in a fix. Especially since extra power was needed to support the newly installed extra-defenses and, of course, Waspinator's cell. There was no way around it. They'd have to leave now and mine some energon.

He figured that, if he went with two fliers, they'd be all right. Rampage wasn't foolish enough to take them all on. It did occur to him, though, that the intelligent crabbot could have set a trap for them at the mine. He'd been sighted there before and he knew that was their main energon source. It was the perfect place to ensnare his prey, if he'd thought up a good way of going about that. It'd actually only take one direct hit from his impressive missiles to blow them all to scrap.

Optimus sighed and rubbed his temples. On the one hand it made sense to take more than two bots with him on this expedition, so someone could keep sentry while the three of them mined as quickly as possible. But, on the other hand, it wasn't wise to leave the base undermanned. Rampage was just one bot, but he was a very dangerous and clever one.

If they didn't risk it, though, they'd be sitting ducks in their own base anyway. He decided then to chance it. He'd search the outskirts of the forest by the mine first before they got to work. If Rampage was waiting in the shadows, he'd make sure to reveal him before he could strike.

The Maximal leader opened a comm. channel to both Silverbolt and Cheetor. He decided against using Depth Charge for this mission, solely because he'd had a discussion with the manta earlier and it had been obvious he was very unsettled. He'd babbled on about how it was only a matter of time before Rampage struck and that they were doing everything wrong by staying inside and waiting for him to make the next move. That had been a logical enough argument, but it was the nervous twitches and clenching and unclenching of fists, plus the aggravated tone of voice he'd used and flickers of madness in his eyes that had worried Optimus. He'd seen Depth Charge get like this before, and when he did, he was not only irrational, but dangerous as well.

He therefore discreetly called the two fliers into the control room and told them their mission. Neither questioned his orders, for which he was glad. Silverbolt was loyal and obedient to the end and Cheetor had come a long way since they started this war. No longer did he challenge his decisions.

With mining equipment in hand, the three of them left the base and hurried towards the mine, but not before Optimus informed Rhinox of their expedition and told him to put the defences on full alert.

Depth Charge had years of experience when it came to stalking. He applied his tactics of discretion and stealth on his own team, every once in a while. He knew Optimus was concerned about him - the ape's face revealed more emotion than was good for him. So it came as no surprise to him that Optimus deliberately avoided choosing him to accompany him on the mining quest. This suited Depth Charge just fine. He had his own mission to attend to.

It had been nearly a full twenty-four hours since the death of Megatron and up until now, no one had bothered to do anything with the corpse that lay not far from the cliff edge that overlooked the site of the Ark. The concentration had switched to Rampage, then to Myst and Waspinator and now to gathering energon supplies, and Megatron was forgotten. Depth Charge had at first been consumed by anger and frustration at Rampage's liberation, but now after forcing himself to calm down, his mind began to make plans on how best to deal with the situation. It was then that the idea struck him.

They still had the weapon. It was damaged, yes, but Rhinox did say he could fix it. It lacked its most important component, however, and that was the power converter. But...there was a bot lying outside that no longer needed his.

Granted, Megatron's power converter was larger than Myst's, so the gun would have to be modified. It was a small obstacle to overcome and after that, they could repair the weapon and hunt Rampage down.

Depth Charge was surprised that no one else had thought of it. Now that the idea came to him, it seemed blindingly obvious. Depth Charge knew he was no skilled technician and there was a chance that Megatron's power converter could not be utilised for some reason, but he was damned if he didn't try.

He passed through the control room silently and slipped out of the base without disturbing the bot at the computers. Rhinox would notice him leaving the area as soon as he stepped into view of the camera, but by that stage it would be too late to stop him. The manta bot left the safety of the Ark and glided up and over the cliffs.

* * *

Inferno took a moment to stare down woefully at his fallen leader. Megatron lay at his feet, lifeless and bloodied. The cracked optic, the crumpled face, the crude, gaping wound in his abdomen and the numerous dents in his metal were all testament to the brutality and callousness that was Rampage. Inferno almost shuddered at the thought of what the crab would have done to the Predacon had he had more time at his disposal. Inferno was devastated that he had not come sooner and in time to stop him, but at least his presence had ensured Megatron's death was swifter than Rampage would have liked it to have been.

He sighed, shaking his head solemnly. "I am at a loss without you, Royalty. The colony has deteriorated into nothing. I fear I am all that is left of your once glorious plan. I have failed you terribly."

His optics dimmed as he struggled with a mixture of anger, sadness and utter desolation, before finally bringing himself to doing what he came here to do. He dropped to his knees and began to put his arms under him, hoping he had enough strength to lift Megatron's dead weight.

"Ever heard of 'rest in peace'?"

Inferno pulled back his arms and looked up quickly. Towering over him with a gun trained on his head, was Depth Charge. The manta bot shifted slightly to the left and blocked out the late afternoon sun.

"Leave here, Maximal. I am not here to fight. I have merely come to collect my fallen Queen."

Depth Charge didn't snicker at Inferno's terminology. He had seen too many scenes like this in the past and knew well the emotions attached to them. Inferno was no threat to him now; just a broken, lost bot carrying out his last task of any worth.

"I believe you," Depth Charge replied quietly. "But I need something from Megatron before you take him away."

Inferno looked offended. "What? He's just a shell now! A ruthlessly butchered shell of a once glorious leader. What can you possibly want from him now?"

"It's in both our interests that I get it," Depth Charge said, trying to avoid stating exactly what he was after. He was unsure of how Inferno would react.

"I will not let you further mutilate the Royalty! Leave here or I will force you to!"

Depth Charge was still as he considered the best way to go about this. He came to a risky decision.

"Do you know what powered the weapon Megatron intended using against us?" he asked.

Inferno blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "Well, no..." he trailed.

"A power converter. One from a Transformer. Myst, in fact. You were out for the count when Quickstrike took the weapon and used it against Rampage and myself. To cut a long story short, we got hold of the weapon and restored Myst's power converter within her, rendering the weapon useless. I came here to take Megatron's with the intention of using it to reconstitute the weapon. Like you, I want to make Rampage pay for his crimes. That weapon's my best chance of achieving that."

Inferno absorbed the information and nodded slowly, averting his gaze while he thought. "I see." After a pause, he looked up.

"Then you and I share an ambition. I do not doubt that is your honest intention. I will therefore allow you to take this piece from the Royalty, so long as afterwards you leave him to me."

"Deal," Depth Charge stated simply.

"You say we both wish to make the crab pay for his crimes, even though they differ for each of us. I have no mission left in life other than to avenge the Royalty. Perhaps, then, it would be wise to...team up, to achieve this shared goal," Inferno suggested with some difficulty.

Depth Charge's immediate reaction was to say no, forget it; he'd never ally himself with a dysfunctional, equally crazy Predacon. However, as he allowed himself to mull over the prospect of working with someone else just as hell-bent as he in bringing Rampage to justice, the notion no longer seemed so outrageous. In fact...

"How far are you willing to go to stop him?" Depth Charge asked. In retrospect, it was a silly question. Inferno was known for his complete dedication to Megatron.

Inferno stood up to face the manta properly. "I would die for the cause," he said straightforwardly. That was all Depth Charge needed to hear.

"Then we have a pact. When the weapon is functional, we will hunt Rampage together, our way." 'Primus knows the Maximals will botch it up - the last thing I need is Primal and his clumsy tactics to track down and destroy X. At least Inferno's a good, tough fighter.'

Inferno nodded. "You will contact me when the time is right. Until then, I will make myself scarce. Now, let us get this gruesome task of removing the Royalty's converter out of the way. Do you know where to find it?"

Depth Charge had watched Myst's operation and so he knew where it would be located and what it looked like.

"Yeah. Stand aside."

Inferno reluctantly complied, and Depth Charge set to work quickly, uncomfortably aware of the dire consequences this situation could bring about if he were discovered doing this before he had explained himself.

The Nemesis had been quiet for years, save the occasional creak and moan that echoed down its empty halls. Today, however, it was alive with the soft bleeping of computers, the whir of machines and the erratic scuttling of eight metallic legs.

Tarantulas was hurriedly moving to and from holding cells and the main entrance to the control room. He was taking from the security cells various pieces of re-enforced metal and defense modules and applying them to the doors to his work station. So far he'd repaired and thickened all the lock-down doors and rigged several traps along the way that would be activated on his command only. The main slide-door to the ship's control room had been strengthened the most. All this was a drastic but important precautionary measure of protection should Rampage locate him and attempt to carry out his threat. Tarantulas was more than a little nervous of the crab.

He'd spent most of the day preparing the internal defenses. As soon as he'd recovered from Rampage's little message, he'd sprung into action and had not stopped since. It had set back operations by a day, but Tarantulas did not care. There was no point finishing the Nemesis repairs in a panicked rush. He needed to feel safe in his working environment.

The problem was, even after all the doors and guns had been put in place and Tarantulas had sealed himself in like a mussel, he still did not feel safe. Never before had the spider felt so unsettled. No matter what he did to try and make himself feel secure, the looming threat of Rampage hung over his head like a constant menacing shadow.

It had prompted him to create a weapon of his own to combat the crab effectively. He had concocted a large batch of cybervenom and loaded it into a light-weight but powerful ray-gun that worked similarly to Quickstrike's snake head. In one shot it contained enough venom to immobilise the killer for at least forty clicks and that would be more than enough time for Tarantulas to either escape or knock his enemy out altogether. Considering what there was at stake, he knew he'd have to go with the latter. Rampage was very strong, but there was a limit to how much he could take before succumbing to stasis lock.

Tarantulas paused to transform and stopped to admire his handiwork. He'd erected an autogun to aim directly at the entrance to the control room and programmed it to fire at any bot that did not have his signature. Satisfied with this final installation, he finally turned back to his work. In a compartment beneath the main console he had stored his weapon - only to be used as a last measure at stopping the maniacal crab. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

Settling at the console again, he began typing out data sequences for the take-off procedure. The computers had suffered significant damage in the crash and some of the programs had been deleted with shot harddrives. It was a nuisance, but a very necessary thing to complete.

He was just getting into the coding when there was a loud snap and a startling crash behind him. Tarantulas leapt out of his chair and wheeled around, internal weapons at the ready. His spark was pulsing rapidly in his chest and his eyes were half an inch wider than normal. To both his relief and annoyance, he realized the crash had been an autogun falling from its perch on the far right wall. His spider legs drooped as he let slip a heavy sigh. He allowed himself a moment to recover from his scare and then started to walk towards the fallen weapon.

As he bent to pick it up, he muttered: "The sooner I'm off this wretched dirtball, the better."

The sky was a silver-blue hue, marred only by streams of whipped, thin clouds. If one were to look directly up at it, it would seem peaceful and calm. But if one were to follow the sky to the horizon, one would get a different picture. Far out to sea, gathering like a swarm of black locusts, was an enormous storm. A curtain of diagonal grey sheets of rain broke up the mustard-yellow light of the sunset penetrating from behind and skimming the surface of the sea. The seemingly gentle scene above him of wisps of white against a slowly-darkening canvas was caused by the ferocious winds that were carrying the storm towards him. The foreboding collection of black clouds were lit by flashes of lightning. It was still too far away for thunder to be heard, but the sharp lashes of light were reminders of the strength of it. It was dusk now and the weather was changing for the worse.

Rampage stood and observed the storm from the shoreline. The sea changed so quickly. Not an hour ago, it had been flat as a mirror, but now the surface was disturbed by quivering ripples and further out white froths on the crest of small waves. The water hissed and lapped at his feet and it was warm and inviting while the cold breeze that swirled around him was not. Soon that breeze would turn into a wind and that wind into a howling gale. The waves would grow in size and reach up farther and farther up the beach in crashing sets. The shaking coastal bush behind him would be pelted by heavy rain and threatened by the force of a swelling ocean and when the storm came upon the land in full force it would wreak untold destruction.

Rampage loved it.

This was the kind of weather he enjoyed. The tumultuous oceans, the cracks of thunder, the thrashing of leaves and twigs in the forest...the sheer power and ruthlessness of nature was the only thing he admired about this place. While others cowered indoors and hoped for it to pass quickly, Rampage revelled in the blasts of air that challenged his stance on the ground and the cool, coating rain that washed over him. He knew the weather had no mind - it was just a force created by the workings of this world. But he liked to think that it did because if he imagined it that way, he felt he was in good company.

Today, however, he was very mildly annoyed at the storm's timing. He had wanted to follow his only lead to Tarantulas but now that he had reached the shore, he realized he would not beat the storm. It would block out all the light and cause the ocean to writhe - not an easy environment to search for a very elusive bot like Tarantulas. He would have to wait for it to pass. While his eyesight wasn't bad in the dark, it wasn't that good, either. He'd have better luck in finding the bot, if he was indeed underwater like he suspected, in daylight and when the waters were calmer.

No matter. There was no great rush. He would retreat to the forest for now and wait for his stormy companion to join him. It wouldn't hurt to plot different ways of dealing with the spider once he did find him. Tarantulas often had a trick up his proverbial sleeve and so planning for unseen events was probably a good idea.

Finally, Rampage tore his eyes away from the gathering storm and looked over his shoulder. The forest started a half mile away from this beach and he could see its dark shadows beckoning him. He turned towards it and made his way there.

Myst walked tentatively towards the cell's occupant. Waspinator was sitting on the cold metal floor of his small cage, knees drawn up to his chin. His wings twitched a little as she approached.

"Waspy?" she called softly as she neared him. His gaze remained downcast and he showed almost no sign of acknowledgement.

Myst stopped a meter from the red energy bars that separated them. She looked down at his withdrawn form softly.

"Waspy..."

Still no reply. She stared at him in silence for a long time, concentrating on tuning into his emotions. Ah yes, there it was...fear...misery...insecurity and...utter weariness. He was so exhausted.

"Fuzor femme alive."

The comment had been made without any body language to support it. He remained still, staring at the floor desolately. His voice had sounded tired and disinterested.

"Yeah...remarkably," she answered gently. She paused for a minute, then spoke. "Kinda remarkable you're alive, too, you know."

Waspinator's wings buzzed a little, but Myst wasn't sure if it was a constant action associated with his beast mode, or a sign of agreement.

"I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. I won't let them hold you here indefinitely."

Waspinator shook his head sadly. "No point in being released. Waspinator has no future either way."

Myst found herself at a loss of what to say next. Waspinator was right. The Maximals obviously didn't want him and even if they could be swayed into accepting him, it would take a long time and Waspinator would never feel welcomed as a part of their group. He'd never feel like he belonged, just as she. The alternative was being released into the wild. There was no safe place out there. He'd surely wither away and perish without the support of other bots.

"I'm in the same place as you. It's a pretty hopeless place, I'll agree. But you know, all we've got is each other. All we can do is make the best of that."

Waspinator shook his head again. "Wazzn't meant to be that way."

Myst opened her mouth to reply then stopped, suddenly wondering what exactly it was he meant by that.

"Elaborate," she said simply.

Waspinator sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Fuzor-femme and Waspinator supposed to be in alliance with crab-bot. Crab-bot now hazz advantage with hizz whole spark, which Wazzpinator helped him get. It's not right that we're now with crab-bot's enemiezz."

Myst was silent. She let the comment sink in. Again, he was right. This wasn't how it was meant to be. If things had gone according to plan, right now she and Waspinator should have been roaming the wilderness freely, without fear of being hunted by the monster they'd freed and with access to at least the Predacon base. She'd have let Rampage do his thing and get his revenge without a care, so long as she had access to the essentials she needed to survive. However, it had not panned out that way. They were both among Rampage's enemies with Waspinator wasting away in a prison cell. Not a good place to be at all.

"What did Rampage say and do to you when he found you, Waspinator?" she asked slowly.

Waspinator's optics dimmed a little and then relit. "Said he was unsure what to do with me. Waspinator asked about you. Annoyed crab-bot, so crab-bot punched Waspinator."

"...That's it?" she asked a little incredulously.

Waspinator nodded.

Myst looked away, thinking that over. Finally, she came out with: "What do you think we should do?"

Waspinator looked up at her for the first time and there was a spark of hope in his eyes along with suppressed desperation. "Waspinator would join side that will win."

"And who do you think is going to win in this, Waspy?" she asked, focussing her gaze on him.

Waspinator merely looked up at her. He didn't have to say anything. It was obvious who he thought would be the victor at the end of this all.

"All right," she answered softly. "But...I think it's wise I check that joining the winning side is still an option before we make any...rash decisions," she struggled. She was grappling with the notion of what she was about to do. Her spark was beginning to pulse faster and her nerves were tingling. While turmoil filled her inside, she showed no sign of it externally. She turned away from Waspinator and headed for the door.

"Fuzor-bot be careful," Waspinator called after her. She didn't stop to face him. She simply couldn't.

She opened the door and stepped out into the cooler hallway, waiting for the door to whir closed before she leaned against it, panting slightly.

You're not seriously going to do this, are you?

Why not? It's probably the most secure option, if it's still an option.

He's a MURDERER.

Yeah...so what difference does that make in a war situation? And, what have I got to prove? Morals are for bots living in a society, so that the society can function properly There is no such thing here. There's just the Maximals and maybe a left over Pred or two. More than likely, we're stranded here for life. No one but these pitiful Maximals is here to judge me for my choices and actions. I might as well indulge in the only thing I find alluring in this wretched place.

How can you be attracted to a KILLER? What's so appealing about a bot who savagely hacked to death others and who lied consistently to you from the day you met him?

He gets me. No one has ever done that before. He cares about me, too. He must do. Why else would he have gone to such efforts to protect me, to keep me alive? That was more than just preserving some shaky pact.

You don't know that for sure...he might turn on you....

He may and he has every reason to. I betrayed him far more than he did me, when it comes down to it. But there's only one way to find out.

It's unethical.

I don't care.

It's risky.

It's a risk I'm willing...going to take.

Myst pushed herself off of the door and started heading down the hallway. She had made up her mind, however terrified and confused and conflicted she may still be feeling inside. It was obvious it was going to take ages before the Maximals came close to truly warming to her and she wasn't sure she even wanted that. She felt sick that Rampage had misled her, sick that he had brutally killed so many...but despite all that she couldn't deny what she felt. She longed for him, because he was a bot after her own heart. He desired freedom without hidden chains. How he chose to exercise that freedom was something that still disturbed her deeply...but it wasn't like there was a lot for him to kill on this planet. She wouldn't assist him in defeating the Maximals. She would remain neutral in that regard; that's how she had always wanted to be. It was the easiest, simplest route to take. No regrets, no worries, no cares.

Pure freedom.

With that notion encouraging her, she decided to leave to find Rampage in the dead of night. He might well turn on her and that would be that, but it wasn't like she had a whole heck of a lot to lose, anyway.

She turned the corner and headed for her room. It was better to stay out of sight while she planned her leaving. She didn't want to be fresh in the minds of any of the Maximals for the next few hours.

Optimus had been very aware of the change in weather as he and Cheetor mined. They'd decided to put Silverbolt on scout patrol along the forest edge, still within their sights. He was making sure nothing suspicious was moving through the trees and towards their position. It had meant the work had taken longer as they'd been less a bot, but they had to take safety measures. Because of the sense of urgency the nearing storm created, they had hurried and as a result they'd mined a lot more than they first thought they would. Now they had enough, and just in the nick of time, too. The wind had picked up, clouds were gathering above them and it was getting dark. Time to move it.

The three of them departed from the energon mine with heavy loads and flew at a steady pace back to the Ark. Optimus was very relieved to hear the blast doors closing behind him.

"Did you mine enough?" Rhinox asked as he stood from his seat at the console. Optimus nodded. "Just enough to last us, if we're careful. Anything happen while we were gone?"

Rhinox sighed slightly. "Well, Depth Charge left the base for a half megacycle. I didn't bother trying to stop him. You won't believe what he hauled back in with him when he returned."

Optimus groaned inwardly and set down the energon container he'd been carrying. Cheetor and Silverbolt silently passed him and carried their loads to the engine room. Cheetor paused at the exit, wanting to listen in, but Silverbolt ushered him out, leaving the two to talk.

When they were out of earshot, Optimus nodded at Rhinox. "Go on, what did he bring?"

"Megatron's power converter."

Optimus glanced upwards and sighed. He wasn't surprised. He directed a weary look at Rhinox. "I suppose he asked you to reconstruct the weapon with it."

"Sure did. But I said I wanted to talk to you, first."

Optimus picked up his energon tank and deposited it by the half-empty fuel cell powering the console. Afterwards, he found a chair and sank down into it, finding himself very tired and bordering on irritable. "I see why he wants to do it. It's a pretty logical solution to the problem, but I worry that if we build it again, he'll take it and go on his own, rash mission to destroy Rampage which could get him hurt, or worse."

Rhinox nodded in total understanding. "We'll have to let him know that we're prepared to rebuild the weapon on the grounds that it will be a group effort to put a stop to Rampage, and that using it possibly isn't the only or best solution. There's more than one way to strip a tank."

"Yes, that's probably best. You and I need to discuss the best way of handling this situation. While Depth Charge knows Rampage well, he's too emotional to offer anything constructive."

Rhinox hummed at that. "There's another bot who could help us with that, who also knows Rampage well."

Optimus glanced up at Rhinox. "Again, though, there's an emotion problem."

"Myst will have to get over her issues with him if she's ever to be a successful member of this team. She herself admitted to bringing this situation about - she knows she therefore has a duty to amend it."

Optimus sighed again. "I suppose. Why don't we call her in for a meeting tonight? We could figure out a plan of action for Rampage now, and inform the two of them tonight, allowing for their input, if they have any worth offering."

"All right, but that leaves us with an important task now. What's our plan of action?" Rhinox asked.

Optimus dropped his gaze and shook his head. "Right now, I'm not sure, but we'll think of something." He looked up at his friend again.

"We have to."

Two hours later, the storm arrived. In the forest, a dark figure sat atop a flatbed rock and listened the to the hissing leaves and crashing thunder while the bramble was sucked up by the wind and thrown against him. In a cave three-quarters of the way up a mountain, a lone Predacon stood, a silhouette just inside the cave's entrance that could be seen in flashes of lightning. He was staring desolately down at soiled hands. Beneath the waves, an anxious scientist worked throughout the night under the hard artificial light of a dormant warship. Inside a sleeping volcano, three bots gathered in a central room and tried to ignore the wind beating at the door like a rabid wolf and the muffled booms of thunder.

Everybot had found a way to deal with the storm, except for one. She was still bracing herself to meet it head-on.

While she gathered her courage at the Ark's exit, Rhinox, Optimus and Depth Charge convened around a table. On it lay two objects.

"As you can see, the power converter is considerably larger than the slot made for the original one. The weapon is also significantly damaged, but not beyond repair," Rhinox stated. "But there's another problem. The power converter is cold. The reason Tarantulas took Myst's converter when she was still alive, was to preserve the energy-feed in the wires and tubes. It means that when it was installed, it already had a charge ready to receive and reciprocate, so long as it was freshly removed from the Transformer body. Megatron's converter has been deprived of energy for a day. It will be difficult to modify it in such a way that when the weapon is turned on, it doesn't short out."

"But is it possible?" Depth Charge pressed, eyes bright and determined.

Rhinox shot Optimus a brief glance of concern. "Well, yes, at least I think so. It's going to take time to get it right again. I've got a lot of damage to repair and adjustments to make."

"How long?" he asked gruffly.

"As long as it takes to do it properly," Optimus cut in. Depth Charge's optics narrowed into a glare as he looked at the Maximal leader, who returned the gesture. "We can't rush this, Depth Charge, or it won't be worth our while."

"Two weeks, roughly," Rhinox interrupted a pending argument.

Depth Charge slowly tore his eyes away from Optimus and looked at Rhinox a little less harshly. "That's a long time," he said lowly.

"It's the best I can do," Rhinox replied levelly.

"If you're worried about how vulnerable we will be in that time in terms of what Rampage might be planning for us, I think we can ask a certain someone to offer her insight into that matter," Optimus asserted.

Depth Charge's face managed to darken even more. "Myst? She's a wreck. She can't think straight long enough to offer anything of value."

"That's an unfair judgement. She was shocked and recovering from near-death when we first approached her for input," Optimus declared. "She's had all day to rest in her quarters and get her head around things. It won't hurt to ask her what she thinks Rampage will do next."

"I KNOW what he'll do next," Depth Charge remarked irritably, but Optimus let the comment slide. He opened a comm. channel to Myst. To his surprise, he found it blocked.

Rhinox noted the Maximal's frown. "What's wrong?"

Optimus continued trying to get hold of her. "I don't...I don't know. Her comm. channel seems to be blocked."

In a heartbeat, Depth Charge was at the computers checking for her. A moment later he said: "She's not in her room, or anywhere in base."

Rhinox and Optimus shot each other worried glances. "Check Waspinator's cell. Is he still there?" Optimus asked as he headed over to the manta.

"What does it matter?! It's obvious she's bailed! She's gone back to that scum!" Depth Charge erupted, red optics bright with fury.

"Don't make assumptions, Depth Charge," Rhinox intervened as calmly and firmly as possible. "There's a huge storm above us. It could be interfering with the computers. For all we know she could be fast asleep in her quarters and her signature isn't showing."

"Can you do a scan of the perimeter?" Optimus asked.

Depth Charge threw up his hands in frustration and Rhinox pushed past him to do the scan. "You're wasting your time. She's gone!" he snarled.

"I'm getting no sign of her on the perimeter. It's hard to make out beyond that, because the signals are so scrambled by the storm," Rhinox informed them grimly.

"Round up everyone to check the base. There's still a chance it's a glitch in the system," Optimus ordered.

"But everyone else is showing! Why would the system malfunction on just her signature? Face it, she's left us! She's probably gone back to him to fill him in on everything we've done and planned so far!" Depth Charge roared.

While panic broke out inside the Ark at the news of Myst's disappearance, the femmebot in question stood just fifty meters from the base. She leaned against an obelisk, eyes half closed as the wind whipped around her face and body. Attached to her side was a stolen signature blocker - the very one Rattrap had used when infiltrating the Predacon base a few days earlier. She was motionless except for the ruffling of her feathers and beast mode fur. She stared ahead into the darkness and watched as lightning lit the rocky terrain. The boulders and rocks cast long, eerie shadows in the flickers of brightness. The howling wind urged her on.

It would be impossible to fly against the gale, so she would have to reach the forest by foot. She wasn't entirely sure she'd find him there, but it was her best guess as to where he might be on a night like this.

Steeling herself against the wind and the overwhelming fear and uncertainty she felt, Myst started forward, hoping desperately that she had made the right choice.