20.May.07
Mistbeast
(Note:
this story takes place after Crossing the Rubicon in Season 3.)
Part
1: The Ship
Rampage’s internal computer beeped monotonously.
“Maximal Signature detected…Maximal unit Depth Charge. Maximal Signature detected…Maximal unit Cheetor.”
“I know who they are, you foolhardy fragment of metal!” the crab-bot hissed.
In the dark, he chuckled to himself, a little sneer which would have sent a chill down anyone’s spine.
“Since my old Omicron friend is distracted and will not come to me, I’ll have to come to him,” Rampage mused, “All we need is a rendezvous point and I’ll provide the entertainment. Computer! Where are the mackerel and the cat headed?”
“Sector 2-2-0. 0.7 kilometers from current position,” The emotionless voice replied.
Rampage looked thoughtful. “What are those foolish maximal up to now? Computer, scan sector 2-2-0.”
Again the computer responded. “Energy signature detected in 2-2-0,” it said. “Signature unreadable; blocked. Maximal units Cheetor and Depth Charge rapidly approaching the unknown signature.”
* * * *
On warm summer nights, the stars above the maximal base usually glimmered and smiled in the dim velvety sky. This night, however, the twinkling myriads were all but invisible, trapped in a suffocating blackness of thick, sinister clouds, which were tell-tale of dark events to come.
Inside the maximals’ base, Rattrap was snoozing at his sentry post in front of the security computers. He was roused by two hushed voices from outside. "Maaan, can't a rat get no sleep round here?!” he whined. “It’s strange that I’m always the one on night duty around here. Why is that? Not all rats’re nocturnal, ya know!"
Rattrap transformed to his rodent form, not without a pang of regret. "It’s also weird that everybody gets to be a spank'n new Transmetal 2...except for the rat!"
Once outside, Rattrap found Blackarachnia and Silverbolt sitting on the roof of the Maximal Base.
Silverbolt handed a small object to the Transmetal 2 she-spider. "Rhinox had this manufactured. I...trust you will put to good use."
Blackarachnia studied the metal object. "Oh, thanks a ton, Bowser. Now would you mind explaining what it is?"
"The latest tracking computer," replied the knight, "with the highest-rate detectors and electro-wave monitors possible to obtain when stranded upon a foreign planet. It can pick up readings from outside this planet's atmosphere." He paused. "A computer doesn't amount to much, but I thought it would mean more to you than a bouquet of flowers would."
Rattrap's shrill, sarcastic voice interrupted them. "Man, lucky for me I got out here before ya started talk'n sappy. Computers, I can handle. Now it's time for you two doves to get some beddy-bye time."
Silverbolt opened his mouth to protest, when he was interrupted by a deafening sound like thunder. The maximals' heads shot upwards. A small object, barely visible in the dark, was up in the night sky. It had just blasted up from the earth.
* * * *
Cheetor’s large, red, Transmetal optics widened in shock. There was an explosion in the distance as something blasted up from the earth. Foul-smelling smoke filled the air.
“D-D-Depth Charge! What’s happening?!” Cheetor shouted.
The flying manta-ray shielded his eyes from the fiery glow of the thing. He could not reply, because he was too busy thinking one horrifying thought…the thing was a spacecraft! Was X driving it? Was the freak-bot going forever beyond the reach of Depth Charge’s justice?
* * * *
"A...ship," Blackarachnia observed in bewilderment. "But it's not coming down. It's—it's leaving the planet! Maybe we should call Optimus."
"One step ahead of ya, legs," said Rattrap, running to the entryway of the base. "Heeeey, fellas! Hate to interrupt yer sweet cyber-dreams, but we've got a situation out here!"
In a moment all the maximals were assembled outside. Optimus looked first at the disappearing ship and then at Rhinox. They exchanged grim glances.
"Friends," Optimus began, gravely, "this could be the end. It looks as if Megatron has finally escaped." The Maximals' faces wore expressions of dread, anger, and despair. "However, we can't be certain. I'll take a squad out to the Predacon base. It's a long way to go, so I'll take the fastest with me. This is no time for faint sparks. Don't give up hope yet." Optimus looked at his small force of troops with care and agitation. "Silverbolt, you're with me," he ordered.
"I am unswervingly at your side, commander," Silverbolt saluted. His noble voice was still there; his confidence, however, was rapidly disappearing.
Optimus nodded and then said, "Cheetor, you follow up." There was no answer. Optimus turned to Rattrap. "Rattrap, where is Cheetor?"
The rat looked around. The Transmetal cheetah was nowhere in sight. "Eh...got me baffled as a beetle in a nutshell, fearless leader," said Rattrap uneasily. "Now ya mention it, I ain't seen the kid since before nightfall. And what's more, it looks like our big, friendly mackerel left us in the lurch again."
Optimus sighed. With Depth Charge and Cheetor (who were probably the most
powerful maximals besides Optimus) absent, this mission would be far more
difficult. They spread out to search the base.
After a while of searching, the five maximals trooped back outside. What was going on? Then, so sudden it made all the maximals jump, there came another loud crash. An explosion of orange fire lit up the landscape as the ship they had seen earlier crashed.
* * *
Rampage approached sector 2-2-0 hurriedly. From a distance he had seen the ship fly upwards, and just as he arrived at the selected “rendezvous” he saw it crash to the earth again with a huge explosion. As he arrived at the smoking mass, he saw Depth Charge and Cheetor just a short walk away and coming closer. Then he heard it. That blood-curdling shout followed by the fearsome roar was enough to scare Rampage into a complete standstill.
Whoever had driven that ship was in the company of some roaring horrific beast. Rampage went over the ship and observed large footprints. Then he looked up. It was time to forget about the spacecraft and its mysterious pilot, and time to focus on destroying those maximal miscreants.
* * *
"Blackarachnia, go investigate that ship's remains," Optimus commanded before anyone had time to recover. "If there's anything...alive, then retreat and report back to the base. Rhinox and I will try to scan the craft with our computers."
Optimus added as the fuzor stepped forward, "Yes, Silverbolt, you may go with her. Move out and no distractions; this is serious business."
In a moment there was a regal avian wolf soaring into the distance with Blackarachnia riding on its back. They made a straight, silent course for the fiery wreck of the ship.
Blackarachnia groaned. "Can't you go any faster? By the time we get there, anything that's alive will have already left!"
"I'm aviating as speedily as my wings and weight will allow,"
snapped the wolf. He seemed to be in an unpleasant mood. "You can always
rely on that dishonorable Depth Charge to run from the call of duty,"
Silverbolt growled. "I can't understand why some people are like that. And
when will Cheetor learn his lesson about teamwork? Is there no one in this world
with decent ethics? Other than you, of course, my dear," he added hastily.
Blackarachnia thought it was a little out of place for Silverbolt to be frankly calling people “dishonorable,” but then again, the fuzor was in quite a bad mood just now. Pensively, Blackarachnia fixed her red eyes on the ship just they alighted beside it. The ship was surprisingly still in one piece, but it was damaged beyond recovery. The door to the fallen spacecraft had been ripped from its hinges and the entryway was black and foreboding. "Silverbolt...we'd better be careful," Blackarachnia whispered, with the slightest hint of fear in her tone. "We don't know what--"
An explosion cut her off. Silverbolt and Blackarachnia were thrown to the ground, vision Clouded with smoldering flames, ears full of the sound of crazy laughing.
"Rampage," Silverbolt coughed contemptuously.
"You called? I was wondering when you'd show up." The massive figure of protoform X was clearly silhouetted against the red tongues of fire. "Love to play with you two, if you're free. But then, I've already had so much fun with your other friend."
Cheetor, thought Silverbolt. The flames died down again, and Silverbolt scanned the area for any sign of his young friend. A scream from Blackarachnia brought the fuzors mind back to the chaotic scene.
"Silverbolt, maximize!" The winged wolf was gone and was replaced by the fierce robotic knight. With a howl of rage, Silverbolt came to his lady's rescue. He threw a pair of feather-shaped missiles at Rampage, just as he bent over Blackarachnia.
The impact of the explosion knocked the giant robot on his face. X pulled himself up again, put his fists together, and sent Silverbolt sprawling.
Grunting painfully, the knight staggered onto his feet. "Black--" he began, but was interrupted.
With a livid, vehement shout, Depth Charge appeared. He laid the limp figure of Cheetor on the ground and charged at his bitter enemy. "X, tonight I'll blow up the planet if that's what it takes to dismember your spark!" yelled Depth Charge.
"Really?" Rampage's insane voice answered. "I thought you'd had enough planet destruction after that lovely party at Omicron."
Rampage and Depth Charge tackled each other, literally rolling on the ground, kicking, pulling, and punching. "When I finish with you," Depth Charge said between blows, "there won't be an atom left of your stinking spark!"
"When I finish with you," Rampage returned, "I'll be quite distraught. With you out of the picture, who will I have to play with?"
Depth Charge lifted Rampage off the ground and hurled him through the open entryway of the wrecked spacecraft. Silverbolt watched as they both disappeared into the darkness. Then he bent over Cheetor.
"He's barely damaged," Silverbolt told Blackarachnia. "Seemingly Rampage arrived here only a moment before we did. It's fortunate he did no real harm. Now, we must go and assist Depth Charge."
"I thought you didn't want to help him," remarked the spider.
"It's not a matter of wanting," Silverbolt stated, his golden optics dimmed slightly in resentment. He strode with firm steps into the ship. Blackarachnia followed silently.
Meanwhile, Depth Charge was on top of X, holding him down. He struggled to draw his energon knife before the freak robot could get up. Yes, now he had it out. "You will never hurt me—or anyone—again, you sicko," the manta-ray panted.
As Depth Charge brought the knife down to pierce his adversary's spark, Rampage gathered his strength and kicked his enemy off of him. Depth Charge went flying through the air and hit the back wall of the ship. He waited a few chilling seconds for his senses to fully return. His eyes stared at the floor as he mustered up strength, and then something caught his gaze.
Depth Charge reached and picked up a scrap of metal about six inches long.
It was burnt and the color was faded. This belonged to who ever was driving that ship, he thought.
Something else caught his eye. It was a stasis pod. Hmm, Optimus said all the stasis pods had hit earth after the alien attack, Depth Charge thought. He looked to his right and saw Silverbolt and Blackarachnia fighting with Rampage. That'll hold him, just while I look. Eagerly, Depth Charge approached the stasis pod. Slag! It was empty. A wave of anger and regret swept over him. Had Rampage already destroyed the poor protoform's spark? Sick creep! I’ll blast him out of the universe!
With a wrath bubbling up in his deepest circuits, Depth Charge loaded his blaster and fired right at Rampage's head. X heard the blast and evaded it. Blackarachnia shouted as the blast hit her She went sprawling backwards, half-conscious. Slag it! I missed, Depth Charge thought. Silverbolt was standing over the spider lady in an instant, protecting her from Rampage, who was thought it all rather comical.
"Depth
Charge, you blind clown fish!" the Silverbolt shouted furiously.
"Time to pull out, Fido," Blackarachnia panted, struggling to her feet. She was not too badly damaged; her new Transmetal second edition gave her as much defense as it did attack power. "Optimus said to report back to base if we found anything, remember?"
"Vindicated," replied Silverbolt, transforming into beast-mode. Blackarachnia climbed onto his soft back, relieved to run her fingers through the silver, sleek fur once again. The fuzor took off with a powerful shove, leaving the ground far below him.
"Wait, what about Depth Charge?" the she-spider asked suddenly.
"Depth Charge can die for all I care," said Silverbolt darkly.
* * * * * *
Blackarachnia lay in her bed as the sun rose. Optimus had gone out and had successfully brought back Cheetor and Depth Charge, and Rattrap was at the security computers. Rhinox had said a quick cycle in the C.R. Chamber would fix up Blackarachnia. She followed his advice, but was not feeling very "fixed up"; Silverbolt was angry, and when Silverbolt was unhappy, Blackarachnia was unhappy too.
Optimus had talked to Silverbolt before he left to find Cheetor. He was angry at Silverbolt for leaving two comrades behind. Silverbolt did not try to justify his actions, in fact he was furious with himself, but he had complained to Optimus about Depth Charge's "ethics". The conversation did not end well.
Everyone was in a bad mood. Everyone except for Cheetor, who had been repaired in the C.R. Chamber and was now snoozing in his room. Blackarachnia decided to pay him a visit.
Her footsteps echoed down the metal hallways of the Transformer's Arc, remodeled with bits of salvaged scrap from the Axalon. She turned and peered into Cheetor's quarters. His room was dusty and disused; all his things looked sad and unwanted, except for two pictures on his desk. Blackarachnia looked at the first picture; it was herself before she went Transmetal. In the shadow of the first picture was a smaller one which showed Optimus and Cheetor laughing together.
Blackarachnia looked at the picture of herself. Cheetor had looked at it so many times, she remembered. But now, she was glad his first boyish romance was over and done. She had never felt anything for him, and maybe he hadn't even felt anything for her. It was just a teenager's crush.
"Hey. You look better since your run-in with the alien driver," Cheetor's voice came. "I don't have a picture…of your new Transmetal self…yet."
Blackarachnia turned to see Cheetor, but he looked somehow different. He was weak, swaggering, leaning on his desk, and panting as if he had just run laps. His voice was strangely shaky.
"Uh!" the spider groaned. "Didn't Rattrap tell you you're too young to be drinking his strong oil?! You need rest, Cheetor. And as soon as you're asleep, I'm going to wring the rat's neck."
"Haven't...been drinking,” said Cheetor. “Been…asleep, remember? Jump’n Gyros, I feel…funny.” His eyes went a darker shade of red and he passed his hand across his face.
It was alarming. “Cheetor…I think we should have Rhinox take a look at you,” Blackarachnia advised.
“Wow…you’re pretty, baby,” the Transmetal 2 said, his voice even more off-key.
“And you’re drunk, kid,” snapped Blackarachnia.
“Not a kid! A great leader…like Optimus,” panted Cheetor. “Come here.”
Suddenly Cheetor went rigid. Silverbolt was behind him, holding him by the back of his neck. “Step away,” he said in a low voice, “You shall not lay a hand on her while my spark still pulsates.” Cheetor stumbled lopsidedly over to his bed and fainted. Blackarachnia looked at the cat-bot in bewilderment.
“I’ll Slag him if he doesn’t—” began Silverbolt.
“No!” Blackarachnia shouted. “It’s not his fault. He’s…sick or something. Look, here comes Optimus. He can talk things over with Cheetor. Now calm down, okay Bowser?”
In a few moments Optimus and Cheetor were in Cheetor’s quarters (though Optimus could barely fit) with the door shut. “Blackarachnia says you’re not well,” Optimus broke the long silence. “Do you feel alright?”
“Fine. Feel like I could go on Jungle Patrol,” Cheetor lied. In reality he felt odd. Ever since he had breathed in the smoke from the crashing vessel, he seemed to be in and out of a conscious state. Optimus wanted to talk to him, but Cheetor could not remember what he had done wrong.
Optimus sighed. “You drove that ship, didn’t you? You wanted to challenge the aliens and get Tigatron and Air-razor back, right?”
“N-no,” said Cheetor. His voice began to fade and get shaky. “I thought the preds were drive’n the ship…went after it…it crashed. The smoke…”
“Yes?” Optimus asked. “The smoke from the crashed ship? Go on.”
“Ah-aaaaah!” Suddenly Cheetor roared and went into beast mode. His eyes were red firebrands and his tail swished violently back and forth. Snarling and drooling, he went to the wall and ripped off a long scrap of metal with his teeth. Before Optimus could react, Cheetor banged him over the head with the metal and knocked him unconscious.
“Cheetor!” Rhinox came in and stared in bewilderment. The Transmetal 2 beast roared and spat and jumped on Rhinox, whacking with the metal and mauling with his claws. Rhinox wrenched the metal bar from Cheetor’s mouth and hit him with it. The cat went out like a light.
Rattrap ran in. “Wh-wha—?” The rat-bot was speechless as he saw the ripped up wall, Optimus and Cheetor unconscious, and Rhinox pretty beat up himself.
“Rattrap, help me get Cheetor to the examining table; we have to have a look at him,” ordered Rhinox. He gently prodded Optimus’ body. “Sir? Are you alright?”
With a groan, Optimus sat up. “I’ve seen this behavior before,” he said, rubbing his head. “I think it’s a virus. Many Cybertronian bots were infected when experimenting with toxic fuel. Are you going to examine Cheetor?”
Rhinox nodded, and soon all the maximals were concernedly crowding around, waiting for the diagnosis. “Well,” Rhinox said, “I’ve talked to Optimus. I have an announcement concerning a matter that all present must partake in. Cheetor and our lives are at risk. Our young friend has been infected with a virus inflicted by toxic fuel.”
“Fuel from that weird ship?” Blackarachnia asked.
“That’s right,” Rhinox answered. “We still don’t know who was driving that ship, what they were after, and why their attempt failed. But we do know that Cheetor was near or inside of the ship when it crashed. And so was Depth Charge. This Virus will attack the circuits and confuse your core processor, along with messing up vocal and optical cabling. It’s…contagious. The toxic particles can spread when any bots are close together. That means we have all been exposed to it.”
The maximals looked uneasily at each other. “Heh, we’re all gonna die,” muttered Rattrap.
“Rattrap…shut up,” Rhinox said sternly. “With all these confusing events,” he went on, “and no answers, we have decided to go find the Predacons and declare a truce till we’ve got this thing sorted out. This will be a team effort. Cheetor cannot be left by himself; we think he is strong enough to come with us. We’re all going.”
“That’s crazy,” stated Blackarachnia.
“We’ll risk it,” Optimus said. “Cheetor’s fits come and go, so
we’ll have to help him and watch our backs. On the way to the Predacon base, I
would like to stop at the wrecked spacecraft. Depth Charge says he found an
empty stasis pod; I want to see it. Depth Charge, you found no other
evidence?”
Depth Charge stood in the dim back corner, his face expression invisible in the dark. I’m not letting those bozos know anything until I figure out which one’s the culprit of drive’n that ship, he thought silently. “The stasis pod was all I found,” Depth Charge lied aloud. Behind his back he fingered the scrap of metal he had picked up from inside the ship.
****
It was broad daylight, and the seven maximals were at the wrecked spacecraft. It was all but destroyed. Cinders, scrap metal, and ashes were all that was left.
“X had his work cut out for him,” remarked Depth Charge.
“So he’s destroying evidence,” Optimus assumed. “No doubt under Megatron’s orders. They’re either just destroying a possible way of escape, or trying to hide something.”
None of the maximals replied. They were all feeling uncomfortable. No one particularly wanted to go near Cheetor; the thought of getting the Virus put them on edge. Plus, nobody knew any answers to the numerous questions which materialized in their minds. Who had flown that ship? Was there some sort of treachery? Did one of the maximals try to get off the planet and leave the others behind? Was somebody secretly working out some conspiracy with Megatron or the aliens? How could the Virus be cured? One common question passed through the mind of every maximal: who could they trust?
Cheetor was reclusive and quiet. He was embarrassed and ashamed of the
effect the Virus had on him. He had attacked his own friends, and now they
probably hated him. Nobody wanted to come near him because they were afraid of
the Virus, and it made him feel alone in the world. Well,
at least Optimus trusts me, Cheetor thought. He
can’t really think that I flew that ship. Why would I anyway? If only Tigatron
was here to clear my name.
Blackarachnia gazed thoughtfully at the pile of junk which had once been
the ship. Her eyes focused on Optimus, who was bent over investigating the
destruction sight. He’s
clean, she told herself. She went through each of the maximals in her
mind, trying to decide who she could trust to be honest. If
there is a conspiracy, Optimus is not involved. Oh, you never can tell with
Rattrap, but he seems loyal. I don’t trust Rhinox. Cheetor and Depth Charge:
they’ve gotta be involved in something. Silverbolt…?
“Blackarachnia?”
The spider whirled around, startled, and found her nose up against Silverbolt’s. “Hey, Bowser,” she whispered. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me that nothing’s going on?”
“No, I cannot,” Silverbolt replied in a hushed voice. “We must be wary.”
Blackarachnia looked uneasy. “Can you tell me, then, that you’re not…involved in anything?”
He kissed her. “That, I can do. Let’s report back to Optimus.”
“Wait. Do you hear something?” Blackarachnia heard a faint beeping noise. “Oh!” she realized suddenly. “The computer you gave me. I brought it along and programmed it to pick up any unusual signals.” She looked at the tiny, hand-held monitor. “It reads two frequencies. One’s a Predacon signature; it’s Rampage. The other one…I don’t recognize it. You?”
Silverbolt gazed fixedly at the computer screen. “It’s so faint…. Well, it is certainly not maximal or Predacon. Shall we ask Rhinox?”
“Uh…” Blackarachnia began, in a whisper. “Should we? I mean, can we trust Rhinox? Can we trust anyone?”
“If there are maximals left who are honest, I want to be one of them,” the fuzor replied faithfully. “Optimus, sir! Rhinox! We have discovered something!”
“Big R” and the huge Optimal Optimus came sprinting over to the
tracking monitor. Optimus looked at the unfamiliar reading and then glanced
questioningly at Rhinox. “Well?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” said Rhinox in a low voice, “but this is some kind of message from the aliens.”
“What, y’mean the ones who blasted Optimus to smithereens and snatched Tigatron and Air-razor?” Rattrap asked, seeming to materialize out of nowhere.
“Yes, those aliens; the vok,” Rhinox replied. “There’s a code
here, and nobody on this planet can read extraterrestrial ciphers without the
alien disc.” He messed around with the computer for a while, and then sighed
heavily. “I don’t know what the code says as a whole, but I recognize this
part here. It mentions a Cybertronian ROBOT ENERGY SIGNATURE type. Someone,
maximal or Predacon, has had some recent interaction with the vok.”
Cheetor’s face flooded with concern. “Are they trying to tell us about Tigatron and Air-razor?”
Rhinox shook his head. “If the aliens wanted to send a ransom message, they would have at least tried to make it readable. Besides, I would recognize their ROBOT ENERGY SIGNATURE.”
Blackarachnia suddenly snatched her computer back. “Well, that’s interesting. I’ll take that now, thank you.” She scampered off on her own. Depth Charge’s eyes followed her closely.
* * * *
The maximals agreed on spending the night in the open, beside the ship. It would do them good, Silverbolt had said. Blackarachnia stayed close beside her lupine love, as if fearing an attack. Silverbolt sensed this, and stayed awake. He knew Blackarachnia was awake also.
“Why didn’t you let Rhinox have a better look at that alien reading before you took the monitor back?” the knight asked softly. “Did it…upset you?”
“I wasn’t worried about that reading,” Blackarachnia replied in a whisper.
“The Predacon signature? Was that what was bothering you?”
“No, it’s not that either. It’s just this: after Rhinox told us about the alien cipher thingy,” the spider explained, “the computer started beeping again. I took the computer back because whatever the reason for the beeping, I wanted to be the first to see it. We should guard what info we know from treacherous ears, right? Anyway, that handy bit of information you gave me said that there was a third energy signature.” Blackarachnia paused. Silverbolt said nothing, so she went on. “Silverbolt…the computer identified the third reading as maximal.”
“But that’s impossible; all seven of us were there!” Silverbolt objected. “There are no other maximals.”
“That’s what’s bothering me.”
The fuzor was silent. At length he said, “May I see the computer? I want to get a better look at those readings, and figure out where they are coming from.”
“I don’t have the computer. Depth Charge stole it.”
Silverbolt sat up. “WHAT?”
“Shh-shh!” Blackarachnia hushed him. “Shut up, will you?!”
It was no use. Silverbolt was livid. “Someone is stealing from my lady and you want me to be quiet about it? Where is Depth Charge?”
“Oh, he’s long gone,” said Blackarachnia without emotion. “Some one big and Transmetal swiped the computer and took off. I don’t see Depth Charge around, do you?”
Silverbolt lay down, suppressing his anger. “I’ll tell Optimus in the morning.”
Part
2: The Beast
Depth Charge came back next morning with the
computer nowhere in sight. Blackarachnia told Silverbolt that it was best he
kept his mouth shout for right now. They couldn’t tell anybody anything—not
even Optimus. Silverbolt, however, felt that there could be no harm in talking
to someone who already knew the situation.
“So where’s the computer? Did you burn it?”
The maximals were on their way to the Predacon base. Cheetor and Rattrap were racing along the ground, Blackarachnia and Rhinox had hitched a ride on Optimus, and Silverbolt had supposedly damaged his wing and was obliged to ride on Depth Charge, the flying manta-ray. Depth Charge did not reply to the fuzor’s question.
“I suppose you’ve identified the third reading by now?” Silverbolt asked. “Would you mind filling me in?”
Depth Charge smiled. “Would you mind telling me why your wing seems to have suddenly healed?”
Silverbolt kept his mouth shut.
They had set out from the ashes of the spacecraft at dawn, much to Rattrap’s displeasure, and had been travelling all day. Fast as the Transmetal 2 bots were, they had to wait up for the slower bots, and paused frequently to search the area for anything unusual.
What made the going tough at first was the fact that Cheetor, who could move almost at the speed of sound, was confined to the ground. (Rattrap was earthbound as well.) This area was especially tough for ground-travel, as it was mostly rocky and mountainous. Miles to the east, the seven maximals knew there were lush jungles and woodlands, but that route was so far out of the way that it would hardly save time.
At noon Optimus was flying over the lake out of which flowed the river that flowed past the superlatively demolished Axalon. This lake, Optimus remembered with a heavy sigh, was where they had had a funeral for Dinobot after he died saving the wildlife in the eastern valley.
Silverbolt, still rather uncomfortable with the fact that he was riding on a possible traitor, looked first to his left and then to right. To the left, between those dark, jagged cliffs, was where his stasis pod and Quickstrike’s had landed. Silverbolt remembered his first encounter with Inferno; he remembered being shocked at the ant-bot’s loyalty. Then the fuzor looked to the right, and snarled at the little mountain where Tarantulas’ lair was located.
Soon they arrived at the Predacons’ base: the large, dark ship equipped
with its own security computer plus Sentinel, the one stolen from the maximals.
The seven maximals approached it carefully and made sure they would be seen by
the security cameras, so as not to look like a threat. This was a parley, not an
attack.
“You can all stop putting your hands in the air,” Rhinox said suddenly. “The cameras and the auto-guns are off-line. …It seems like the base is deserted. Should we go in?” He looked at Optimus.
“Uhh….!” Suddenly Cheetor staggered, roared, and fell onto his side, unconscious. His legs and tail swished convulsively. The maximals stared in alarm.
“It’s the Virus,” stated Rhinox, again shattering the silence. “Poor kid. He fought it all day yesterday and last night. I don’t think he’ll be able to go any further.”
“If the base is deserted,” Optimus announced, “Cheetor will stay here with Rhinox. The rest of us will go on. Let’s move it, maximals!”
Inside Megatron’s temporary “palace”, they did not see a sign of the Predacons. Not a sign, that is, until they entered Megatron’s quarters.
“What on earth…?” Optimus looked around the room; the walls were dented and some metal scraps had been ripped off them. All power was out. Quickstrike, the new Dinobot, and Megatron were laying in unnatural position on the floor, as if they been tossed about. Dinobot, his right arm dislocated and his legs bent way out of joint, was in Stasis Lock. The other two preds were scratched, beat up, and marred as well.
Optimus actually looked afraid. “Rhinox?”
Rhinox fidgeted uneasily. “Hey guys—and girl—would you excuse Optimus and I for a moment?”
“Why?” Rattrap asked, tapping his foot against the floor impatiently. “Is there, uh, somethin’ we should know about?”
“Err-well, I…that is to say…” Rhinox stammered. He sighed. “I need to take a better look at these Predacons…they, uh, have the Virus… and…we don’t want you to be exposed to it. Clear out.”
Rattrap, Silverbolt, Blackarachnia, and Depth Charge went outside into
the open air again, leaving the unconscious Cheetor with Big R and Optimus.
Depth Charge folded his arms. “Do they really think they can pull that one over on me? On us?”
“Pull what over?” Rattrap asked eagerly. He was interested; whatever
was going on, it was obvious that Depth Charge knew a lot about it—and the rat
wanted to know about it too.
“Well, you don’t honestly think the preds’ve got the Virus, do you? Rhinox said the Virus attacks the inner circuits,” the manta-ray explained; “and either I’m blind or those preds were outwardly damaged, y’know what I mean?”
“Oh….” It hit home. “So, uh, Optimus don’t want us to know about the thing that attacked Megs?” Rattrap pondered. “Heh, Optimus is couple cheeses more trustworthy than you, fish-breath, so why would he try to hide the truth?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want any of us to panic,” suggested Blackarachnia. She and Silverbolt had been listening quietly up till now. “I mean, if there’s some terrible thing out there that’s strong enough rip off Dino-fang’s arm…maybe Optimus just doesn’t want us to chicken out.”
Depth Charge looked bleakly resolute. “I ain’t pulling out until I figure out what’s going on.”
Silverbolt stepped forward. “Then it’s unanimous. All we want are answers. If I may be so bold in saying, I doubt keeping secrets and swiping computers is the best way to acquire explanations.”
“Don’t think feigning injury’ll do it either,” the manta-ray muttered. He looked at Blackarachnia and whispered, “That was a nice computer you let me borrow. Thanks. But I won’t be returning it, unless you three agree on some certain terms.”
Or I could just beat it out of you, Silverbolt thought. He said nothing aloud.
Depth Charge continued. “You see, we four can trust each other—at least a little. But Rhinox, I don’t know about. Whatever we see on this computer screen, we keep secret from him, okay? At least for now.”
They all nodded reluctantly. Depth Charge took out the tiny computer.
“Give it to me,” snapped Blackarachnia. She swiped it and looked at the three readings. “There’s a Predacon frequency, the alien message, and…a maximal signature.” The spider looked thoughtful. “You now, before this I always thought ghosts didn’t exist.”
“I can assure you that this is not a ghost,” Silverbolt held firmly. “We must be rational! Whoever this maximal is, it must be what came out of that stasis pod which Depth Charge discovered.”
Depth Charge shook his head. ”I investigated that pod. Its computer said that there had been a protoform when the stasis pod was found, but the spark had gone offline due to severe damage. A bot can’t walk around and tear other bots to bits without a spark.”
“Then somebody must have given it a spark,” Blackarachnia assumed. “I’m betting it’s the same somebody who drove the ship.”
“What is this, Sherlock Holmes and the Forever-unsolved Mystery of the Missing Spark?” Rattrap joked. “Heh, this is way above my head, but, y’know, it could have been Cheetor in that ship, right? I mean, he was gone when the ship took off. So was Depth Charge, for that matter, but he was out chase’n crab cake.”
“Yes…” Silverbolt mused. “It makes sense. Tigatron and Air-razor, Cheetor’s best friends, captured by the aliens. Cheetor finds a stasis pod, and is naive enough to use toxic fuel to power a cheap little ship.”
“But did work?” Blackarachnia wondered. “Has he rescued their sparks and only managed to make a…beast? He must have come in contact with the vok, and that’s why we got this alien message on the computer. Too bad we can’t read it.”
Silverbolt looked furious. “You just can’t trust that kitten.”
“Maximals!” Optimus called suddenly. “Time to move out. Now.”
Cheetor and Rhinox stayed at the Predacon base. The others (Rattrap, Optimus, Depth Charge, Blackarachnia, and Silverbolt) were flying or running in various ways. The four who could trust each other each wondered why Optimus had pulled out so suddenly. He had probably come to the same conclusion that the others had about Cheetor and the aliens. Blackarachnia checked her computer to see where they were headed.
“Silverbolt, look. We’re going towards that maximals reading,” she reported. “Rhinox must have picked it up on the Predacon scanners. It looks like Optimus is trying to track it down.” She pondered over this. “How come he isn’t explaining the situation to us?”
“Perhaps he’s keeping information from us, because we’re keeping information from him,” Silverbolt said. “I still hold that we let him in on the information. Optimus testing our sense of teamwork.”
“I’m fine with getting an F.” Blackarachnia said dryly. “Look, we’ll tell Optimus after this is all over. All we have to now is capture that beast, find the other Predacons, and that’s the end,” she stated.
Silverbolt was doubtful. “Can it really be that simple?”
“I don’t think so,” said Depth Charge, who was flying just beside Silverbolt and Blackarachnia. “Cheetor didn’t drive that ship. I should know; I was with him when we saw the ship, after all. And capturing that maximal/beast thing is gonna be one slag’n tough job.”
There was a silence as the maximals traversed onward.
Blackarachnia gasped suddenly, her optics intently fixed on the computer screen. She showed Silverbolt, Rattrap, and Depth Charge. The maximal signature had turned around and was already back near the Predacon base. “The beast must have figured out we were tracking him, and turned off his course,” she suggested.
Silverbolt sighed. “I knew this wouldn’t be simple. Why go back to the Predacon stronghold, I wonder? Depth Charge, Rattrap, what do you think about telling Optimus all we’ve found out?”
“No!” Depth Charge snapped. “Let’s just lay low a while longer.”
“If I lay any lower I’ll die,” Blackarachnia muttered.
***
In the Predacon base, Cheetor began to stir. He was lying on his side on the floor. How long had he slept? He noticed a large shadow was over him. “Optimus?”
“Optimus? Sorry to disappoint you, but Optimus isn’t here!” the strange voice was familiar and chilling.
Cheetor looked up. Rampage was standing over him. “Hello, little cat. I just finished slagging your other friend. That hippo, or Rhino, or whatever he was. It’s sad, really, that I can’t have more fun with you. But you see, I’ve got to kill you quickly so there’ll be no witnesses.”
Cheetor, still in beast mode, glared hatefully up at the freak robot. “If you don’t mind my asking, what was I going to witness?” he asked.
“Why,” said Rampage, “now that Dinobot is practically dead, what’s to stop me from getting back the other half of my spark? Once I am whole, I’ll use Rhinox’s computer smarts to fix up this bucket of bolts, and then be off to find more amusing territory. There. Explaining to you can’t hurt if you’re not going to live to tell anyone.”
Cheetor grunted as he sat up. “You’re all kindness.”
“Please, don’t disgust me with such words.” Rampage pulled out his powerful blaster and aimed at Cheetor’s chest.
Suddenly the loudest, most deafening noise Cheetor had ever heard broke out like thunder. It was something between a scream and a roar. Rampage dropped the blaster to put his hands to his ears.
A whir of claws and fur collided into Rampage, knocking him to the ground and relentlessly attacking. Cheetor didn’t dare to move. He held his breath and pretended he was a statue till he was sure Rampage was unconscious and the thing was not near him. Then, Cheetor slowly sat up. Dinobot, Rampage, and Rhinox were all in stasis lock. Cheetor wasn’t sure if Megatron was really in stasis lock or if he was just temporarily unconscious.
Help, Cheetor thought. How can I fix up Rhinox? Where—Suddenly he caught sight of a large hole in the wall. This must be how Rampage broke in. Maybe Optimus is outside. He made a rush for the exit. A large, dark shadow landed across the threshold, taking up all the length and most of the height of the egress. It roared.
Cheetor jumped backwards in a shock so severe all he could go was fall on his back and stay there. He began to feel weak. His vision went fuzzy. The Virus! No, not now! Let me get up! Cheetor struggled to rise, but couldn’t. I’m going to an invalid till I die. On the other hand, death doesn’t seem very far away right now. He looked to the doorway and saw the strange beast, shrouded in mist. It was of catlike build, with wings, but that was all Cheetor could perceive before…
“M—ma—maximize!” the thing growled.
Now it was tall and stood upright, Cheetor observed. Its large, swathing
wings enveloped its body, as did the mist. And whatever this thing was, it was maximal. It walked gracefully, but with a
fierceness and heaviness about it. Well,
it’s maximal, but it doesn’t look sane. No, it’s coming right toward me!
Aw, why me?
The misty beast came over to Cheetor. It was holding a vial containing some kind of liquid.
Man, that thing’s gonna rip me
to shreds! No…don’t touch me.
The beast stuck one long, cold arm under Cheetor’s head and jerked upwards. Then it forced the contents of the vial down his throat, and ran. As suddenly as it had appeared, the beast had vanished.
Cheetor shuddered, wondering what that warm, oily liquid was and how it would affect him. He went over to the injured Rhinox and began to slowly drag him toward the robot-repair pool which served the Predacons as a C.R. station. Something fell out of Rhinox’s hand. Cheetor picked it up. It was a piece of shattered metal, almost identical to the one Depth Charge had found. Though he did not know why, Cheetor put the metal shard on the Predacon computer and scanned it.
“Piece of fallen stasis pod,” Cheetor read from off of the computer screen. “Shattered when it came in contact with Spark. Spark belonging to maximal unit…” Cheetor’s eyes went wide. “Maximal unit…Tigatron.”
“Surprising, isn’t it?” came Megatron’s deep voice.
***
The sun rose behind the maximals, as they were now headed in a westerly direction. It had not been a restful night. The maximals had settled down to sleep, but not one of them had shut an optic.
“Hey! Look!” Blackarachnia couldn’t help shouting, for the computer started beeping and four Predacon signatures were shown on the screen: Megatron, Dinobot, Rampage, and Quickstrike.
Rattrap, who was riding on Depth Charge, said, “I thought they was scrapped…”
“I didn’t think Megatron was in stasis lock,” Depth Charge replied in low, cool voice. “The mad-bot must have pulled himself into the C.R. pool and then repaired the other two. I hope Rhinox and Cheetor are still online.”
Blackarachnia winced with worry. Just a few months ago, it would not have mattered to her if two maximals went offline, but now they were a family to her. The spider looked excessively concerned as she checked her computer screen, and found that there were no energy signatures reading “Rhinox” or “Cheetor”.
“Don’t worry,” Silverbolt began comfortingly. “We just have to—”
He was cut short by a series of shots from below. The cannon blasts from Rampage, purple burning shots from Megatron, and red laser beams from the new Dinobot knocked all the maximals off course. Depth charge was hit by Rampage’s missile. With a long cry he went plummeting downward, the rat still clinging onto his back and yelling, “We’re all gonna dieee!”
The noise from the gunshots was deafening. Silverbolt swerved and twisted skillfully, avoiding the blasts. “Hang on tight, my lady!” he shouted up to the spider woman, who was riding on him. “I won’t let anything—”
Boom! Megatron’s gunfire hit Silverbolt’s wing and he fell downwards at top speed. “…Happen,” he ended dully.
The four earth-bound maximals found themselves suddenly soaring again. Optimus had come up from under them and, still in his flying mode, had them all safely on top of him.
“Oh, good ol’ Optimus!” Rattrap cheered. “I thought I was gonna—”
“Die,” Optimus finished for him. “Well there’s a lot less chance of perishing if we start working together. You four are really beginning to annoy me with your keeping so many secrets. I’d appreciate it you’d quit talking behind my back and—”
“Don’t think this is the time to be making speeches,” the manta-ray interrupted coarsely. “We’re under heavy fire here! Depth Charge, maximize!”
“The battle awaits!” Silverbolt agreed. “Give us to leave to fight, commander, and we shall win or—”
“Die,” said Rattrap.
They all zoomed downwards and were glad to be on the ground again. Megatron, Rampage, Quickstrike, and Dinobot ceased firing. “Optimus,” Megatron’s bass, amused voice came, “we had such a hard time keeping up with you, and you see we just had to get your attention somehow. Ahem. I’ve come to talk some business with you.”
“That’s good,” said Optimus, lowering his guns, “because I’ve come on the same errand. I…guess I’ll let you speak first. But hurry up; you don’t exactly have a captivated audience.”
“It’s simple,” Megatron smiled. “You help me find that maximal beast that attacked me so I can turn it Predacon. I have an unusual shortage of troops, yes. In return for your generosity, I shall very graciously allow these two maximals to be returned to you, though I’m not sure there’s much life left in them.”
The maximals’ faces went dead serious. Rampage threw down the bodies of Cheetor and Rhinox. They were all silent.
“Oh, and one other favor,” Megatron went on; “I examined that Transmetal 2 kitten of yours, and he is somehow cured.”
“Cured?” Optimus was startled. “You know about the Virus?”
“Well, several of my Predacons began acting…unusual, yes. It spread among them until they were too weak to do anything. I sent them away so as not to infect my last three soldiers…and myself, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I gave Waspinator, Tarantulas, and Inferno a dishonorable discharge,” the Predacon commander continued. “They were all infected. Anyway, your cat showed signs of having the Virus, but seems to have suddenly healed. …How does it work?”
“We know nothing of this,” Silverbolt answered, puzzled. “Maybe Rhinox did something?”
Abruptly there came a shot from behind Silverbolt. It went over his head and hit Rampage, who fell to the ground with a cry of surprise. Silverbolt turned around and saw Depth Charge, his gun still smoking, and the slightest hint of a smile on his face.
“DEPTH CHARGE!” Optimus shouted furiously.
It was too late to try and get the manta-ray’s attention; he had already jumped towards Rampage. Megatron looked at Dinobot and Quickstrike. “Well, what are you waiting for? Slag those maximals!”
Dinobot jumped forward with a growl, nearly cutting the side of Rattrap’s head with his lethal claws. Rattrap jumped sideways and as he fell down, he took out his gun and shot at the saurian. Dinobot evaded the blasts and came charging up to the rodent-robot on the ground. “Oh maaan…”
“Hey!” Silverbolt’s voice made Dinobot turn on his tail. The metallic lizard faced the fuzor and shot his red laser beam. Silverbolt drew two of his feather-shaped weapons, and turned them broadside to reflect the deadly ray onto Dinobot. Hit in the face by his own powerful laser, Dinobot growled and fell to the ground.
“Nice go’n Bolt!” the rodent said, standing up. He and Silverbolt immediately had to jump behind a rock to avoid a rain of venom-shots from Quickstrike. “We gotta good chance ‘o win’n this one,” Rattrap panted. “With old fish-breath keeping crab cake busy, and Optimus fight’n Megatron, that is.”
“Hey guys, a little help!” Blackarachnia’s rough voice came.
“I’m coming, my darling love!” shouted Silverbolt.
“Bolt, don’t make me hurt you,” Rattrap warned, and sprung over the boulder they were hiding behind. Silverbolt followed quickly.
Mean while, Depth Charge and Optimus had ended up back-to-back. Optimus was trying to shield himself from Rampage’s canon blasts while Depth Charge was firing furiously at Megatron.
“Hey, Optimus,” Depth Charge said, as he fired more explosive ammo, “I was think’n…maybe I ought to tell ya something. Uh!” His shoulder was scraped by a blast from Megatron’s lethal weaponry. The burning sensation only made Depth Charge fight harder. “I…have some more evidence that I’ve been keeping confidential.”
Optimus grunted as he tried to stand up to the force of Rampage’s missiles. “I figured as much. What do you know?”
“I found a piece of scrap metal, belonging to whoever piloted that ship. I scanned it—” Depth Charge paused to take aim and shoot. “I scanned the metal on Blackarachnia’s computer. The pilot had the same ROBOT ENERGY SIGNATURE type that was encrypted in the message from the vok.”
“Well, whose ROBOT ENERGY SIGNATURE was it?” Optimus shouted to be heard over the tumult.
“You’re not going to believe this.” Depth Charge seemed reluctant to say the word. “The bot that drove the ship and challenged the vok was…”
***
“Aaaaah!” Silverbolt was sent sprawling head over heels by Quickstrike. In the air, he struggled to get control of his wings, but he began to feel weak. His vision went fuzzy: Cheetor’s symptoms. Silverbolt had caught the Virus! Flapping wildly about in the air, he tried to shout Blackarachnia’s name. All of a sudden one of Rampage’s missiles came zooming towards him.
The impact was terrible, but not as terrible as one would think. The blast stunned Silverbolt, numbed his whole body so he could hardly feel the pain. He was blind and oblivious, slipping out of consciousness…
“Silverbolt!” Blackarachnia shouted, seeing him go flying at least a mile into the jungle behind her.
Silverbolt was senseless. Numb, no ability to shout or sense where he was until…thud! The hard impact with a rock brought half his wits back. He was lying on some rocky ground in a boulder-strewn clearing of thick jungle. He struggled into a sitting position. The thought never crossed his mind to see how badly he was damaged, to feel how much pain was throbbing behind the lingering numbness. Blackarachnia was nowhere in sight, nor were any of the maximals.
His hand touched something cold that wasn’t rock. Startled, the fuzor looked to his right and saw Waspinator. The Predacon looked dead or at least severely damaged. What had happened here? It was a little creepy. I must find out where I am and—
“Uuh!” Silverbolt shouted and nearly jumped out of his skin. A cold, slow-moving hand had grabbed the fuzor’s wrist. A familiar, raspy voice groaned. At first afraid of what he would see, Silverbolt turned his head slowly to the left. Tarantulas was lying there, barely alive.
“You…Traitor…” the spider-scientist croaked.
Silverbolt stood up, shuddering, and shaking the icy hand off of him. “Are you referring to me?”
“I…think he means…me.” Silverbolt turned around and saw Inferno crouched on the ground, sobbing. “I’ve…become…a monster.”
“You betrayed Megatron?” Silverbolt asked incredulously, walking slowly over to the ant-like robot.
Inferno made no answer. He just sat there with his back to Silverbolt, making strange noises, sometimes whimpers, sometimes laughs, but mostly sobbing. Silverbolt began to see that Inferno, seemingly for the first time, was sane. He had finally conquered his ant-ish behavior, but had all his loyalty gone with it? Or had Inferno’s mind simply cleared so he realized how evil Megatron was? Silverbolt felt sympathy. He had been a Predacon, once. When he realized their malevolence, he had longed to join the maximals. But he was reluctant, at first, to be disloyal—even to Megatron. It did come to Silverbolt, though, that fighting for the good of the universe was worth having a bad spot on his resume. Perhaps Inferno had come to realize where loyalty truly lay…in friendship.
Silverbolt slowly walked up the Inferno, and sat down just behind him. “Inferno. You drove that spacecraft did you not? What were you doing?”
“I…wanted to join you maximals.” Inferno’s voice was muffled. “But I knew…you would never let me. Not…unless… I proved myself first. I went to go challenge the vok, to get your friends back.”
“Inferno, you don’t have to prove anything,” Silverbolt said softly. “But, your attempt didn’t work anyhow, did it?”
“I managed to swipe half of…Tigatron’s Spark,” Inferno went on. “The aliens almost…killed me. The toxic fuel is doing the rest. I put the spark into a stasis pod I had found, but the ship crashed before the process was done. A beast came out. …It ran away. I ran…too.”
“Were Depth Charge and Cheetor with you?” Silverbolt asked.
“They came out…because they scanned a…ship. My ship. When they got there, though… I had already left.” As his weak voice droned on, a mist moved swiftly in. “I was…foolish to try. I would never suit the maximals. I went back to Megatron, but he figured out I was sick, he kicked me out. Disowned by my great commander…I am…worthless.”
“No,” said Silverbolt. “Become a maximal now.”
Perhaps it was the Virus that affected his next action; on the other hand, maybe it wasn’t. Anyway, Inferno shook his head and said, “I will be…alone.” The Predacon turned around, took out his flame-shooter, levelled it with Silverbolt, and fired.
This time Silverbolt felt it. His chest and head burning, he was again bewildered at the senseless cruelty of the Predacons.
“Why…?” he whispered. Silverbolt fell backwards and did not move.
Inferno, laughing to himself, stood up. He was too weak. Grunting and
gasping, the ant-bot fell to the ground again, soon to perish. Inferno could
still not decide on an allegiance, however, for in the second before he breathed
his last breath, change his command code to “MAXIMIZE.” Then he gave one
last little whimper, and died.
So what was he in the end? Was Inferno a maximal or a Predacon at heart? You can decide that yourself.
Part
3: The Healing
Something warm…something liquid…it tasted, oh, wonderful. Silverbolt opened his eyes and could at first see nothing through the mist. Then he found that he was being held by a strange robot, who was forcing the liquid down his throat.
“Feel better? That will take away the Virus, brother. But you look pretty near scrapped on the outside, too.” The voice was deep and soft, but with a strange coarseness to it. “I’ve healed the spider and the wasp. The other one was dead.”
“You cured the Predacons?” asked Silverbolt. “But they’re the villains.”
“You might say I’m neutral,” said the stranger. “Like my other half, I long for serenity. I hate violence and disease, and find peace only in beast form. I do not like to fight, but sometimes my beastliness gets the better of me. That is why I attacked Megatron, Dinobot, Quickstrike, and Rampage.”
Silverbolt stood up and tried to see through the mist. “Who are you?”
“I’m half…only half…of something wonderful.”
“TIGATRON?”
“No. Mistbeast.” The mist thinned out just a little, but it was enough for Silverbolt to see the new maximal clearly. He looked calm, graceful, with bits of white and black striped patterns on him, mint-green eyes, and his body enveloped in great midnight-blue wings. His robotic form, compared to Transmetal 2 maximals, was obsolete, almost defenseless. But when Silverbolt looked at the more animal-like parts on this odd maximal, he could tell there was great strength.
Mistbeast was even more impressive in his animal form. He did not seem to be one particular kind of animal; he was much like a white tiger, but with a lion’s tail, a horse’s mane on his neck, and gargantuan, blue bat-wings stationed on his back. The green eyes glinted with ferocity and the steel-piercing fangs and claws glistened. This was the beast that had, with no apparent difficulty, put two Predacons in stasis lock without even leaving his animal mode.
A large figure suddenly came through the mist. “So, this is the newbie maximal filth, is it?” Megatron’s voice came. Now he was visible, large and imposing, an impious smile on his face and his firing weapon at full power.
Silverbolt stared at the Predacon leader for a moment. Then he flashed his gaze to Mistbeast, to see what he would do. But the beast had vanished.
“Gone again!” Megatron looked at first furious, but behind the fury was an amusement which Silverbolt hated. The smile of the malevolent saurian appeared again, as he said, “Oh dear, I suppose I have no powerful beast to make into a Predacon anymore, do I? I suppose there is, uh, absolutely no sense at all in asking you to rejoin me?”
Silverbolt glowered. “No sense at all.”
Megatron grinned. “Then I’ll reprogram you myself.” The ugly saurian paused, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, I forgot; that beast said he cured my other soldiers, didn’t he? How nice. That means I don’t need you anymore, nooo. Well then, Au Revoir, Silverbolt.”
The fuzor, catching his meaning, jumped aside as quickly as he could. It was not quick enough. Megatron’s powerful blast got him right in the wing. There was no chance of flying out of this one. With a deep-throated laugh, Megatron re-powered his weapon and brought its tip down to where it touched Silverbolt’s throat.
“Hey, don’t you know you shouldn’t blow someone’s brains out when he has a friend nearby?”
Megatron whirled around and saw Depth Charge, standing there casually with his arms folded. Silverbolt lay still a moment, the numbness from the fall was wearing off and now it hurt to even move. He watched Depth Charge fight Megatron, but was unable to get up. The manta-ray kicked Megatron potently in the head, knocking him to the ground. Then he ran over to Silverbolt.
“Hey Fuzor, I could use a little help,” Depth Charge panted. “Not that fighting old Megs is near as hard as fighting with X, which is what I’d love to be doing now.”
Silverbolt’s consciousness was slowly slipping away. He fought to keep his wits about him. Weak as he was, he kept the anger and censure he felt for his rescuer. “If that’s what you’d rather be doing,” he grunted, “then go do it. Why bother coming here, anyway?”
Depth Charge shrugged. “I had a friend in need.”
Megatron got to his feet and transformed into Beast Mode. Depth Charge did likewise. With a deep-throated battle-cry the flying manta-ray zoomed at Megatron head-on. The metallic saurian grabbed the marine-bot with his oversized jaws and shook him violently. Depth Charge turned his jets on full-force, scorching Megatron’s mouth devastatingly. The T-Rex let go, and the Ray began whacking and whipping with his sharp-tipped tail. Megatron drew from that idea, and, turning suddenly around, used his own tail to smack Depth Charge to the ground. A large reptilian foot held him pinned.
Though the chaotic scene before him was barely visible in Silverbolt’s fading optics, he knew what he had to do. Struggling to keep from going into stasis lock, the noble wolf warrior clumsily drew another feather-shaped, fire-powered javelin. Tottering on his usually stable eagle feet, he hurled the weapon at Megatron. The spike hit the T-Rex square in the chest.
Megatron, damaged but not letting pain hold him back, transformed and fired again at Silverbolt.
When the fuzor’s yellow eyes closed, Depth Charge was still there, fighting for his own life and Silverbolt’s. STASIS LOCK COMMENCING.
***
“Hello? Open up, Bowser; it’s time for the doctor’s diagnosis.”
The fuzor’s eyes opened slowly, and perceived Blackarachnia and Cheetor were standing on either side of his bed. Silverbolt sat up. Blackarachnia, shining and beautifully repaired, pushed him down again.
“Honestly, I feel fine,” Silverbolt said. “I was beginning to be weighed down by the Virus, but that beast came up with some kind of cure and now—”
“Yeah, yeah, we know all about it,” Cheetor barged in. “He cured all us too. Depth Charge said that Mistbeast actually talked to you; that is so totally unfair. On the other paw, I did get to see him before any of you did…so, I guess we’re square.”
Silverbolt smiled, still a little dizzy from the many long cycles in the C.R. chamber. It was good to hear Cheetor blabbering on again. A shadow crossed the fuzor’s face as he remembered his thoughts about Cheetor earlier.
“You shouldn’t run off on your own so much; you make us worried,” Silverbolt told him. “And Cheetor…until I was infected with the Virus myself, I didn’t believe that your shameful conduct was caused by it. I apologize for not seeing the truth earlier.”
Cheetor fidgeted. “Uh, that’s okay. I can’t remember anything I said during that first viral fit, but…well, I probably acted like a jerk.”
“Depth Charge!” The thought crossed Silverbolt’s mind suddenly. “Depth Charge was the one who came and helped me. Where is he?”
Blackarachnia motioned towards the door which led out to Silverbolt’s self-built balcony. “He’s out there. Hate to be an informer and mortify a guy by make’n him out to be a softy, but, he never left your side. Pretend you don’t know, for his sake.”
Blackarachnia flashed the wolf-bot a smile and walked out of the room. Cheetor trotted after her. With a sigh, Silverbolt got out of bed and stood up. He strode over to his balcony door, opened it, and observed Depth Charge, tall and menacing, standing with back turned toward the entryway. For a moment Silverbolt stood there in silence, leaning over the balcony railing and gazing out into the sunny, rock-strewn flatlands.
“You called me ‘friend’ twice,” Silverbolt stated. “Did you mean it?”
“Would I have hauled my tail through those impossible jungles and saved you from get’n your brains blown out, if I didn’t mean it?” Depth Charge answered coarsely.
Silverbolt changed the subject. He was curious about the events which took place after he went into stasis lock. “So…what happened?” the wolf-bot asked.
Depth Charge loosened up and leaned on the railing. “All of us, Maximal and Predacon, started to get weak and feeble with the Virus. We were still fighting, trying to rescue Rhinox and Cheetor. Megatron and I were the only ones who could half-way resist the illness, and all around me bots fell to the ground. I noticed you weren’t there.” Depth Charge shrugged. “Megatron ran off to find you; he scanned the maximal monster on his computer. I followed, and he led me to you. After I put the fat old reptile in stasis lock, I went back over to the others; Mistbeast had cured them all of the Virus. I let him cure me, and then we left him. Simple as that.”
Silverbolt was in astonishment. When had it been, three days ago? When he had said he would not care if Depth Charge was scrapped? Then depth Charge turned around, throwing away a perfectly good opportunity to kill Rampage, and rescued Silverbolt from going offline. Maybe Silverbolt had been wrong. Maybe under the hard shell of pain, regret and longing for vengeance there was some compassionate character left in Depth Charge. Silverbolt, however, did not comment on the manta-ray’s ethics. A silence was the best way of communicating gratitude to Depth Charge.
After a moment, Silverbolt could not help asking, “What happened to Mistbeast?”
Depth Charge’s eyes searched the flatlands for some unseen object, and then he breathed a short sigh. “I guess we’ll never know.”
THE END