Plays of Shadow

Chapter 16: Girl On A Mission

Disclaimer: Beast Wars does not belong to me. Too bad, or things would’ve turned out a bit differently…

Tarantulas smirked to himself as he slung Fleetshade’s prone body over his shoulder and tromped down the hall to the Maximal control room. The scientist cast a longing glance at some of the monitors and instruments, but resisted doing some snooping around. The girl had hit Rampage with a very powerful blast, but the invincible ‘bot wouldn’t stay down for long. And Rampage would not be happy when he awoke to realize he’d been nothing more than a distraction.

Tarantulas fully intended on giving Fleetshade to Megatron, but not before he did a little digging into her personal files to see if he could find something of interest. He had conveniently forgotten to remind Megatron that he would need to send a two-bot team to take Fleetshade, seeing as her blast could easily annihilate one. Thus, the leader had assumed Rampage could do the job alone. Knowing better, Tarantulas had followed the crab-bot and hidden behind the girl. Then, when she was distracted, he’d shot her with a venom-laced dart.

The spider dumped Fleetshade onto the floor and knelt down next to her, pulling out a scanner and a few other instruments. He activated the scanner and passed it over her, detecting that her energon radiation levels were still fairly high. That meant that even after that seemingly huge blast that had downed Rampage, the girl still carried enough firepower to take out another five ‘bots!

He had to find out what enabled her to absorb that much radiation and not be affected! Grabbing another small instrument, he leaned over the small femme and opened a panel in her armor, revealing a small console. He was about to plug the instrument in when he heard a stirring down the hall, then the sound of something large denting a wall.

Rampage! Letting out a string of colourful curses, Tarantulas replaced his tools in a subspace compartment and closed Fleetshade’s console. Tossing the girl over his shoulder again, Tarantulas scurried over to the lift and slammed his hand into the down button as a guttural scream echoed down the hall.

The lift descended far too slowly. Tarantulas saw Rampage reach the control room just as it passed out of sight. Not waiting for the lift to descend all the way, Tarantulas squeezed out and jumped the remaining four meters to the ground. He heard something large slam onto the lift behind him as he fell, but Rampage was too large to squeeze through until the lift had fully descended.

Wasting no time, Tarantulas made the switch to vehicle mode and tore away as fast as his wheels could go. Rampage might be large, but he was slow and unwieldy, and Tarantulas could lose him easily.

Just as Tarantulas thought he was home free, his comlink buzzed, making him jump a good foot in the air.

Expecting it to be Megatron, Tarantulas punched the button with an irritable “What?”

“Lieutenant Tarantulas?” replied a smooth, heavily-accented voice. The speaker had obviously decided to ignore the spider’s rude greeting.

Tarantulas’ mech. fluid froze in its vessels. He knew that voice, from long ago.

“Special agent Ravage?” Tarantulas practically squeaked. What was his old mentor and trainer doing here, of all ‘bots?

“The very one,” Ravage replied. “Explanations later. Right now I need your help. The Council has sent me here to capture Megatron, and the Maximals and I are on the way. I assume you have tactical knowledge of Megatron’s ship?”

“O-of course,” Tarantulas stammered. “If you don’t mind my bluntness, Ravage, why would Cybertron send you rather than a rescue party of Maximals?”

“Cybertron doesn’t know anything about that transwarp wave,” Ravage returned just as bluntly. “One of our space stations intercepted in first, and an unfortunate accident prevented the rest of the wave from hitting Cybertron.”

Catching the undertones in the other’s voice, Tarantulas chuckled. “A terrible shame,” he cackled.

“Yes, tragic. Now, to business. We’re closing in on Megatron’s position now. Once the attack starts, I need you to get into his base and de-activate his defenses. Or, better yet, shut down all power. Can you do that?”

“Without a doubt,” Tarantulas replied.

“Excellent. How long will it take you to get here?”

Tarantulas made a few quick calculations. He’d need to make a stop by his lair and drop off Fleetshade first. From there it was five cycles at top speed to the Darkside.

“Fifteen cycles, maybe twenty.”

“Fine. We’ll commence our attack in ten.”

“Very well.”

There was a slight pause. “I’m…glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself slagged yet, Lieutenant Tarantulas. Ravage, over and out.”

“Hunh,” Tarantulas grunted to himself as he sped along in the direction of his lair. The surprises just kept coming and coming. And now that he knew there were no Maximal reinforcements coming, he no longer needed Fleetshade to help him win Megatron over.

However, the game wasn’t over yet. Anything could happen, and the girl could still come in handy.

Normally Tarantulas didn’t believe in luck or higher powers, but he couldn’t help but feel that the stars were shining brightly on him today.

Blackarachnia tore down to the bunker as fast as she could. She had just overheard Megatron giving Waspinator what had to be the coordinates she was looking for. Now all she had to do was fire up her transport and follow the bug-bot out.

The tyrant was also expecting an attack. Why and by whom Blackarachnia didn’t know and frankly didn’t care. Her transport was ready and an attack would be the perfect cover to make her escape. She had checked the roof hatch of the hangar earlier and had been pleasantly surprised to see that it worked. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had time to make sure the transport itself worked before Megatron had called her to the command center. She was confident that it should, but sometimes should and does are two different things.

The spider had only been mildly surprised when Airazor had patched through a communication to her earlier in the day informing her that Silverbolt would be the one dropping off the generator for her; she’d had a hunch that Fleetshade wouldn’t be able to snitch the thing without running the risk of being caught. ‘It’s good to have connections,’ Blackarachnia thought smugly.

Silverbolt. Just thinking about what she had done today, a hot wave of shame and…something else washed over the Predacon femme. She had told herself at the time that she was using him, making him susceptible to future requests. But deep within her spark, in that tiny corner that had been making itself known lately, she knew it wasn’t true.

No time to think about that now. Blackarachnia reached the old hangar. The door was sealed shut, but that didn’t stop her. Transforming to beast mode, she scuttled up a nearby pipe and squeezed herself through an air vent, molding her legs in such a way that they reached inward to the large room and propelled her into it. She transformed as she fell the few meters to the floor, rolling and getting to her feet in one liquid movement.

She strode quickly over to her stasis pod-turned-transport and started powering it up, quickly disabling all the protective locks she’d put on it. She fired up the graviton generator and after a moment of tense waiting, the craft rose to hover over the hydraulic lifts it had been resting on.

Letting out her breath in a relieved whoosh, Blackarachnia smiled. How could she have ever doubted that it would work? It was her craftsmanship, after all. She vaulted herself in and took the controls just as the Predacon base jolted violently. The attack was underway already. Excellent.

The roof hatch slid open and Blackarachnia steered the craft upwards and out. She experienced a temporary shock when she saw a strange ship floating above the Darkside. Then she realized that it was probably the Maximal reinforcements sent from Cybertron that Megs had been so worried about. If so, Megatron would be trying to sneak out and get to the Ark any time now. She had to hurry if she wanted to get there before he did!

Looking around, Blackarachnia spotted Waspinator heading off due west. She activated the aft thrusters and the pod jerked ahead, speeding up. There were Maximals everywhere, engaged in battle with Predacons. A futile effort on the Predacons’ part, the she-spider decided. If the Maximals had that wicked-looking ship at their disposal, the best thing for the Predacons to do would be to give it up now.

Not watching where she was going, Blackarachnia didn’t realize she’d been spotted until she heard Primal’s yell.

“Silverbolt! Take her down!”

Blackarachnia spun around to see Silverbolt a few meters away. He turned to face her and aimed his gun, but Blackarachnia knew he’d never shoot. He knew what she was trying to do, after all.

Looking pained at having to disobey orders, Silverbolt let his gun drop. By that point, the thrusters had powered up completely and Blackarachnia was off, soaring away after Waspinator and her one chance for survival: the Ark.

Airazor slumped into a chair in the command center, feeling like every movement took all the energy she had left. The battle had lasted much longer than necessary, as Ravage had kept telling them to wait for some sort of signal. She had fought first Inferno, then Quickstrike, and had already been tiring when Rampage had come barreling into the thick of things. Crab Cakes had been mightily glitched off about something, and he had decided to take out his frustration on Airazor. She was surprised she’d still been alive when Cheetor had finally come to her rescue.

Because her injuries had been so severe, she’d taken the longest in the CR chamber. However, she still hadn’t had the full repair cycle she’d needed, so she felt like she’d just flown for a whole day through gale winds.

The only other ‘bot in the room was Rhinox, who was quietly typing away at one of the monitors.

“Where is everyone?” she asked him.

“Silverbolt’s gone off somewhere, presumably to find Blackarachnia and bring her back. Optimus took Cheetor to go find some energon cache of Megatron’s, and Rattrap’s…somewhere.”

“Where’s Fleetshade?”

Rhinox swung his chair around to face her and shrugged. “Good question,” he said. “None of us were able to find her. Maybe she didn’t feel comfortable staying here on her own and decided to take a walk.”

Airazor suddenly had a stab of premonition. She knew it had been a bad idea to leave the neutral ‘bot here on her own.

“I’m going to go check her room,” she announced.

“We tried that,” Rhinox told her. “It’s locked, and there was no answer.”

“She told me the lock code,” Airazor responded, getting to her feet. She made her way down the hall, her feeling of unease growing with each step.

She reached her friend’s door and knocked on it. “Fleetshade?”

Nothing. Maybe she’s asleep, Airazor thought, though she knew it was wishful thinking. She tapped in the code and the door slid open. Airazor froze in the doorway, a scream sticking in her vocalizer as she surveyed the thoroughly wrecked room. The walls were dented as if by huge fists, and furniture that had been bolted down was now thrown across the room or crumpled into scrap.

Suddenly, a loud curse came echoing down the hall. This galvanized Airazor into action and she bolted from Fleetshade’s room back to the control center. She got there to see Rhinox holding something.

It was a small instrument that looked like some kind of scanner. Only it wasn’t something belonging to Rhinox’s collection of gadgets. It had a Predacon symbol stamped on it, and the colouring….

“Tarantulas,” Airazor said, her spark sinking as she realized what must have happened. Rampage was late to the attack. And he’d been coming from the direction of the Maximal base! Suddenly, everything fell into place and Airazor groaned.

She voiced her theory, and Rhinox nodded. “He must’ve taken her to his lair. But none of us know where that is.”

Airazor nodded, getting an idea. “I’m going to go check Fleetshade’s room for clues,” she announced, and all but bolted from the command center.

Once safely locked in Fleetshade’s room, Airazor started fiddling with her comlink. How did she do this again? Oh, right. Switch those two wires and-

“Airazor to Blackarachnnia. This is Airazor to – I can’t believe I’m saying this – Blackarachnia.”

Airazor shut off her optics and prayed during the ensuing pause.

“This is Blackarachnia. What do you want now?”

“Fleetshade is missing,” Airazor replied, ignoring the Predacon’s less-than-polite greeting.

“Don’t look at me,” the spider scoffed.

“I wasn’t accusing you. Just listen to me, will you? I think Tarantulas has her. You said you know where his lair is. I need you to tell me.”

Blackarachnia immediately sobered. She gave Airazor directions and the bird-bot thanked her.

“Wait a cycle. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to the Ark.”

“Ah. Silverbolt’s on his way. Be nice to him; he just wants to help. And Blackarachnia…good luck.”

“Uhh…thanks. You too. Get Fleetshade out alive, Maximal, or I swear I’ll come after you.”

Airazor grinned. “Roger that, B. Airazor, over and out.”

Switching off her comlink and rewiring it to the Maximal frequency, Airazor made her way back to the command center.

“She’s not here,” she told Rhinox. “I’m positive Tarantulas has her. And I think I know where she is.”

Rhinox raised an optic arch. “Do you now?”

Airazor crossed to the lift and punched the button, then reverted to beast mode as she spoke:

“No time to explain; if he’s had her there this long, she’s probably not going to last much longer. Radio Optimus and Cheetor and tell them what happened. I’m off.”

With that, Airazor dove out of the lift hatch and took off at top peregrine falcon speed toward the coordinates Blackarachnia had given her.

She hadn’t flown this fast since…since the day Tigatron had been taken by the aliens.

Couldn’t think about that now. Focusing on Fleetshade and what Tarantulas could potentially be doing to her right now, Airazor prayed to Primus she would get there in time to save her friend.

Blackarachnia was thinking much the same thing as she zipped along in her pod transport, following Waspinator at a safe distance. With nothing to do but minor course adjustments, she had a lot of time to think about Airazor’s call and what it meant.

Tarantulas had Fleetshade. Blackarachnia shuddered. After all their – and her - work to protect her, the Maximals had blown it by leaving the kid alone. How stupid could they be?

Blackarachnia had stopped trying to tell herself she was concerned because she didn’t want Tarantulas getting his hands on Fleetshade’s weapon; she simply wasn’t convincing herself. She didn’t want Fleetshade to get hurt for the same reason she didn’t want to hurt those protohumans: the deer femme was innocent and wouldn’t hurt anyone unless provoked. It seemed wrong to harm somebody like that, and wrong not to defend them.

Why was she thinking about right and wrong? Honestly, that fuzor was having a bigger effect on her than she thought!

And speaking of Silverbolt, Airazor had said he was on his way. Obviously Primal had felt obligated to send one of his lackeys after her. However, she couldn’t imagine why he’d sent Silverbolt, who’d let her go in the first place. Primal must be going daft, Blackarachnia thought sourly. She’d rather have to fight off one of his other minions than put up with Silverbolt’s ‘I knew you had good inside you’ bull again.

Just then, as if her thoughts had summoned the ‘bot, she heard a loud howl behind her. Spinning around, the she-spider could see a steadily growing grey dot behind her. As the dot revealed itself to be Silverbolt, Blackarachnia considered shooting him. She was in a tense mood as it was and she didn’t need his constant harping.

After all, she was a Predacon, slaggit! She was evil! She wasn’t doing this for the Maximals’ sake, she was doing it to save her own hide! Why couldn’t he figure that out and leave her alone?

“Get out of here!” she yelled at him as he winged up alongside the transport, keeping easy pace with his long wing strokes. “I’m busy!”

“I have come to assist you, my lady,” he answered, that infernal puppy-dog look in his optics.

“I don’t need any help, Bonebrain,” Blackarachnia returned. She was feeling particularly vicious because, at the mention of him staying to help, a part of her had longed to let him.

But the mutt obviously wasn’t listening, because he transformed in midair and landed with a thunk in the back of her transport.

“What are you doing?” she screeched. “I told you to go away!”

Silverbolt ignored her and sighed. “Blackarachnia, when this is over, I want you to return with me. To the Maximals. This excursion just proves that your inner goodness is-“

“Urgh! Get a clue, you canine cretin! I’m a Predacon! I’m evil! I’ll shoot you,” she threatened, hauling out her gun and pointing it at him.

“Ah,” he sighed. “But my heart tells me you will not.”

Blackarachnia let out a shriek of rage and frustration and pulled the trigger, hitting him in the knee. She’d bloody well missed! How could you miss at point blank range? she berated herself.

Silverbolt sat down hard at looked at his wound in surprise. Then he looked up at her. “You shot me,” he said, shock and pain evident in his expression.

Satisfied that she had rocked his naïve faith, she put her gun away. No need to worry that he’d return fire.

“Of course I shot you. I’m evil! Now do you believe me?”

The fuzor seemed to be pondering something.

“And yet,” he began, “you ensured the wound would not be mortal. You inner Maximal goodness prevented-“

Blackarachnia couldn’t take this slag anymore. She grabbed the male ‘bot’s shoulders and shook him, trying to pound some sense of reality into his feathery processor.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she shrieked. “I missed, you boneheaded hound! I missed! Argh, you are infuriating, you and your ideals! Why can’t you see I’m not who you think I am!”

Silverbolt remained silent and thoroughly unconvinced throughout this whole tirade. When she finally threw herself away from him in frustration and disgust, he spoke:

“Yet, you’re exactly who Fleetshade thinks you are, milady. And doesn’t that count for something?”

That stopped her. Turning around, Blackarachnia eyed the fuzor warily. A slow, pained smile spread across his face and it suddenly occurred to her that shaking him had made the wound in his leg worse. The sudden pang of remorse that followed was enough to make her sick. What was wrong with her?

But then…maybe Fleetshade was right. Maybe she should just admit to whatever it was she was feeling. So what if she wasn’t the greatest Predacon? What was it that Fleetshade had said? Something about being a bad Predacon meaning being a good ‘bot? Could she settle for that? Maybe…maybe she should try.

“I know how you’re feeling,” Silverbolt said, interrupting her thoughts. “You don’t know whether to kiss me or kill me.”

The ludicrousness of that comment made the Predacon laugh. That was indeed what she was thinking, but in an entirely different way.

Leaning closer to him, she smiled exasperatedly.

“I’m a black widow spider, you idiot,” she told him. “I can do both.”

For the next few cycles, Blackarachnia was forced to think maybe being a Maximal wasn’t so bad – then she was airborne.