3.Aug.2006

 Spiders In Love

Part Two

By: Syntia13

So here's the plan.
Taraxa waits until every off-duty Maximal is inside the base, and in his/her room. Then she goes to keep company to the person on monitor duty. She gives a short signal. Tarantulas moves into Axalon's radar's range. When the monitoring bot turns to the radar, but before he alerts anyone, she puts a poison dart in his back. She hides the unconscious body in the nearest empty room. Then she pays visits to the rest of the crew - a soft knock, a few friendly lines to put them at ease, and a poison dart in the chestplate. When she is the only remaining conscious person on board, she turns Sentinel off. Tarantulas comes on board. He enters Sentinel's programming, changing it to his favor. Together, they wait for the two night-time patrollers to return, and take them down before they even leave the lift. Then... then he takes a happy round around the ship, reprogramming every single Maximal into an obedient drone. He may even take time to program the rat with obsessive loyalty toward him, something like Inferno, only without weird wording. Teehehee. And then, with his small army and an element of surprise, (and what a grand surprise will it be!) he gets rid of Megatron and his minions, with resources from both bases he builds an escape shuttle, and gets OUT of here.
A simple plan, no?

It had only one lacking piece in it. And that would be the necessary changes in Taraxa's programming. For all above to work, he had to catch her and reprogram her without Maximals knowing, or even suspecting. To do that, he had to lure her beyond radar range, so they wouldn't see their signatures together, and into a jamming zone, so she couldn't alert anyone. There he'd have to overpower her, put her off-line, do a small surgery to enter her hardcore, and reprogram her into his ally. His subordinate.

The first phase went surprisingly well - she was outside alone, following some birds, and she ended up exactly where he wanted her on her own volition. He didn't have to do a thing. Now, the phase two - that was were everything went wrong.

With a sigh, Tarantulas tugged at the web - his own web - and gave up, disgusted. This was really embarrassing - to end up tangled in one's own web, not really knowing how on Earth did that happen. There was some sneaking, some talking, some circling around each other and POOF! Suddenly he had a lot of webbing in his face, and he was forced to watch one very pretty motorcycle beating it at high speed. NOT as he planned at all.
 
He started laughing. Cunning little she-spider! She would make an excellent Predacon! Of course, if she were a Predacon, he would now be unconscious from a fatal dose of cyber-venom, but that's beside the point. With her at his side, he would be off this dirtball in no time. Not to mention she would also make a pleasant company. He smirked.

But since she was bound to get more careful after today's encounter, a change of strategy was in order.
____________________________________________________


The moment Taraxa caught herself thinking about how good Tarantulas looked, (instead of concentrating on the flock of birds she was studying), she knew something was wrong. Biting her upper lip, she took a deep breath, and spun in place, raising her machine guns, and sure enough, he was there, just at the edge of the clearing. He raised his hands, with slightly amused look on his face. "I'm impressed. How did you know I was here?"

"I started thinking about you, and I have no reason to think about you, cause I don't know you and I don't like you, and you are a Predacon, so the only reason for my thinking of you is the fact that my beast mode detected your smell, even if I didn't, so you had to be near" - that was the answer she didn't give.
 
"What do you want?" she asked instead, at the same time checking if she still had a radio connection with base. She was almost sure she didn't go as far as the last time, but just in case...
"I wanted to apologize, I think I might have scared you the last time we've met." It was the last thing she had expected, and he said it so sincerely and innocently, that for a moment she was lost for words. And then she got angry.
"Of course you scared me! I was alone and far from base and couldn't contact with anyone, and you just popped out of nowhere, and tried to catch me!"

He waved his hand in denial.
"Nonononono. I walked out of my own cave, and bumped into you, and you caught me."
"In your own webbing!"
"It wasn't mine."
"Mine neither!"
"Must have been Blackarachnia's, then," he lied smoothly, and smirked at the way she stiffened slightly. A bit of jealousy, there, perhaps? For not being the only female spider around?

"Well, then," she hesitated. Maybe she was being unfair? Or maybe she was being naive again. "Why should I believe you?" she challenged.
"Oh, please, you think I would walk into this web if I knew it was there?"
Oh. Good point. "I don't know..."
He frowned, obviously feeling insulted. "I wouldn't. And why would I want to catch you?"
After all she heard about him, the answer was easy. "To have a subject for reprogramming, experimenting, cloning, and Primus knows what else."
Tarantulas started laughing. "You've been speaking to the rat," he said finally.

Taraxa blushed. It wasn't her fault she felt nervous speaking to bots over a foot taller than her, which left her talking with Rattrap a lot. "Yes I have. So?"
"I wouldn't trust him as an objective source of information. We ended up nearly scrapping each other on few occasions, and don't forget his credo is 'Good Pred is a dead Pred,' or something like that."
"You can never trust a Pred," she corrected automatically. Then she visibly shook herself off. "And he's right! Why am I even talking to you?"
"The alternative would be shooting me, and though you seem eager to do so--"
"I'm not, I hate fighting!" she interrupted hotly.

He regarded her aimed machine guns. She looked at them herself, blushed, lowered them, jerked her head with a 'what am I doing?' expression, and aimed them again. Then she looked at him with confused helplessness. "This is all your fault," she accused. "First you turned me into a walking armory, and now your stalking me."
He cackled a bit. "How can I be stalking you if you can see me?"
She opened her mouth. She closed them. She tapped her foot. "Go away, Predacon," she demanded finally.
"That was rude and uncalled for," he grumbled. "Very well, I'm leaving." And he did so, all ruffled and offended. All this just for show, of course. He was very pleased with himself when after only half a cycle she uncertainly called after him. By the looks of things, operation 'make her trust you' was going to work.
_______________________________________________________________


"I don't like dis. Ya shouldn't go so far on yer own."
"But anywhere near I won't have anything to study. That alien attack destroyed all life near the base."
"An ya hafta have somethin' to study. Sheesh."

Taraxa sent him a hurt look, and Rattrap sighed. "All right, all right, I know. Ya don't like bein' useless. Just try an keep in radars range dis time, all right? So I can keep an optic on ya." "Of course." She rewarded him with a small smile, and he rolled his optics. It wasn't as if he could forbid her to go. He was merely expressing his doubts on the matter. "Oh, one more thing - I saw Tarantulas's signature in dat area few times, so keep yer optics open, an don't let him get anywhere near ya."
"I won't," she said with all the sincerity of the world.

***

"What really puzzles me," Tarantulas said, contemplating the sky, "is that you wouldn't let me come nearer than fifty feet from you, but you have no qualms about living under the same roof with Dinobot. Have you ever seen me changing allegiance twice a day?"
"This is complicated."
"It's not," he said, rolling to his side and propping his head up in one hand. Taraxa wondered briefly if he new how incredibly hot he looked like that, and hastily stomped on the thought.
"You insist on treating me like a dangerous psychopath just because I have a bad reputation among your friends."
"That's not true!"
"Oh, so you have some other reason to distrust me? Personal experience, perhaps?"

No. Her personal experience was telling her that he was a very nice company, actually. But...
"I haven't known you for that long."
"So you're saying you'll start treating me like a fellow robotic being in another two years?"
"You're insufferable," she stated. But she was smiling while doing so.
In the darkness of Tarantulas's mind, a tiny voice cackled triumphantly. 
_______________________________________________________________

"Rattrap...?"

"Hmm?"
"Tell me, apart from the fact he's a Predacon, do you have some particular reason to dislike Tarantulas?"
The snapping sound was caused by Rattrap's jaw hitting the floor. "What? Why on Cybertron you ask dat?"
"Well, I, er, I was just wondering, cause you've always been saying how dreadful he is, but never what he'd done, so..."
"So you though dat maybe I'm just a hate-blinded Predacon hater?"
"No! I just... er..." She just knew she was blushing again. She should really do something with her thermoregulation systems.

Rattrap sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, I do 'ave a few very good reasons to hate da spider, an belive me girl, ya don't wanna know." He yawned, and scowled. "Oh, slaggit. Any chances you could watch the screens for a moment or two?"
She smiled. "Of course. Sweet dreams, Rattrap."
________________________________________________________________

The transmetal tarantula crept trough the bushes. It could see its pray already, defenseless and unaware...

"Hallo, Ranty."

Tarantulas groaned. Few days previous he'd make a mistake of calling her 'Raxa' - no, he was not inventing any stupid endearments, his voice box had been a little rusty and skipped the first syllable, that's all - and she immediately took to calling him - ugh - 'Ranty' in exchange. And no amount of persuasion could make her drop it. Femmes.
"Welcome, Raxa." Well, if you can't fight it... "What are you up to today?" He settled in for a chat. She still didn't trust him enough to let him come close, so he was forced to keep his distance and talk with her. Thank the Primus she actually had something interesting to say. If he had to listen to some silly gossips, he'd go crazy. Instead he was having surprisingly good time, discussing various experiment models, scientific researches, and on one occasion, having a raging row about the dubious wisdom of thesis of Dr. Windgear, whom they'd both had occasion to meet.
 
He chuckled at the memory, and Taraxa looked at him from over some device she was setting, arching optic ridges. "Thinking about Windgear social behavior theory," he explained. She nodded, remembering the argument, and sent him a shy smile. Her smiles were always small, but if you looked in her optics, you could see the bright sparks appearing there... which was completely irrelevant, and he didn't care. Ahem. He rerouted his attention to the device. Hmm. A handmade sound recorder. He could make much better one. He opened his mouth to ask where did she get this piece of scrap. "Do you need help with this?" he asked. Well, he was here to gain her sympathy and trust, after all.

________________________________________________________________


Tarantulas cursed at the dust covering him and the sand scrapping under his wheels. He should be sitting in his lair right now, inventing, planning, plotting, or doing some other useful things, not wander in this wasteland. But, unfortunately, Maximals had taken to their heads to start sending Taraxa on long-range patrols, and he had to follow, to make sure that his precious property wouldn't be damaged. He leaned on the boulder to get a better view on two figures in the distance.


"Wow! Look at this!" Cheetor landed and maximized at Taraxa's side.
"It's beautiful," she agreed. In the middle of the wasteland, a small lake had formed, giving the chance for floral life to appear - a blue spot surrounded by green on the endless yellow-brown plain.


Tarantulas grumbled. Oh, perfect, just perfect. The middle of the desert, and Taraxa still managed to find some organics to study. Now they'd be stuck here for Primus knows how lon--  His visor widened suddenly. The cat - that stupid, insolent brat of a bot, had slipped an arm round Raxa's waist, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Tarantulas gaped, feeling the rage filling his entire frame, from the inside out, until he was shaking in fury.
GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!!!  

The femme blinked surprised, but then a playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She half turned raising her hand to Cheetor's face. It was his turn to blink, as she gently touched his forehead... and pushed him, simultaneously slipping away from his embrace. It was all it took for Cheetor to fall on his back straight into the lake.

SPLASH

"OW! What did you do that for?" he complained, sputtering.
"You needed to cool off a bit," she said with a laugh, helping him out. Cheetor sighed unhappily.


Tarantulas cackled, feeling very smug for some reason. Serves you right, pussy cat. He lowered the machine guns. When did he ready them for firing anyway?
He started suddenly, as his private radio beeped. A message relayed from his computer. An alien signature detected. Someone must have activated another alien site. And the coordinates - just round the metaphorical corner.


Cheetor frowned, staring out on the plains. "Did you hear a motorcycle engine?"
"Emm... no?"
"I would have sworn--" he never said what he would swear, because both of their comlinks suddenly blared an incoming message on emergency frequency. **This is Tigatron, we need-- ARRRGH!** the connection was cut out abruptly. Taraxa gasped. "He's in trouble! Did you got the coordinates?" "Yes, come on!"

***

Tarantulas got to the edge of a canyon just in time to witness two Maximals transforming to robot modes and being attacked - by a plant, of all things. It would have been almost amusing, if he didn't detect an alien but familiar radiation from the plant's base. There was some device hidden in there, charging to send a signal to its creators. Tarantulas attached a tread of web to the cliff wall and slid down it expertly. He did NOT need any nosy, arrogant, planet-busting aliens to come snooping around here again.
"Turn back to beasts, you fools," he yelled at the screaming Maximals. They were fighting, and the plant's tendrils were thrashing them all over the place, preventing him from getting to the device. Surprisingly, they listened to him, and landed on the ground with loud thuds, as the plant lost interest in them and stilled. Just like he thought. It's really good to be a genius. He rushed to his target.

***

Cheetor landed and broke into run immediately. "Tigatron! Airazor! What happened?!"
"Stay in beast mode!" a trio of voices warned. They all sounded weird. Two of them because their owners were weary and in pain, and one because it always sounded weird. Cheetor almost tripped over his own paws in surprise. "What is he doing here? He attacked you?" And not waiting for an answer, he maximized and put his hands together to shoot.

"No, Cheetor, wait!" - That was Taraxa.
"Go... back to... beast mode." - Tigatron.
And - "I don't have time to play, kitty," - Tarantulas said, raising one leg holding a small box with a blipping light on it. At his feet, lots of bigger boxes blinked in a matching pattern.
 
"Holy cat's meow," Cheetor breath, stepping back. Nothing like a nice pile of armed bombs to dump fighting enthusiasm.

"You should get out of the area, Maximals," Tarantulas said, reeling his engine for emphasis. "Now!" he added, pushed the button, and sped off.
______________________________________________________________

The explosion was very spectacular, but was lost on the audience, as half of them was busy being injured, and the other half was gasping for breath after carrying the first half from the endangered area at high speed.
"Oh... geez... I... hope... that spider... burns in the Pit," Cheetor wheezed.
"But... he... helped us... I think." Taraxa protested weakly.
"That's right," grunted Tigatron, "he helped us escape the thing that had attacked us, and destroyed it."
Taraxa smiled. "See?"
"But, but..." Cheetor looked at their faces and gave up. He knew, beyond any doubt, that whatever Tarantulas's reasons were, they were wicked and/or selfish, but try and explain that to a pair of world-loving pacifists.
 
They set off slowly toward Axalon, Cheetor in particularly dark mood. He was worried. Taraxa was way too trusting, and one should not be trusting with Tarantulas around. When they were about half way, Cheetor finally made up his mind, and drew Taraxa aside. "Listen, Tara," he started, glanced nervously around, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I think you should know something..."

____________________________________________________________

"Did you really want to eat Cheetor?"
There was a brief silence, and then Tarantulas started to laugh. "He told you about that? I would have thought he'd be too embarrassed!"
He was embarrassed. He'd made her give him her word (four times, no less), that she wouldn't tell anybody.
"He told me. So? Did you?"
"Of course not! I was just bored out of my mind and wanted to scare him." And kill him to test his newest machinery, but since she didn't ask about that...
Taraxa breath a relief and smiled. "I knew you wouldn't do something like that."

Tarantulas rolled his optics behind his visor. She really believed he was a nice guy he pretended to be. It almost made him want to prove her right...
WHAT? 
He shook himself off. He'd better hurry with this reprogramming, she was beginning to have most alarming influence on him.
________________________________________________________________


One day, which seemed to be exactly like any other, Tarantulas was sneaking back to his lair from meeting with his future ally, and almost stumbled on a very thoughtful raptor with a blaster. Cursing his own carelessness, he backed away, but not before Dinobot spotted him.

After few minutes of fairly pointless shooting, Tarantulas grew impatient. He had rather important project to finish, and evil plans to plot, and no time to waste on overstuffed warriors with allegiance problems. So after dodging another laser shot, instead of shooting back a missile, he shot not very diplomatically worded question why exactly was the warrior lurking here. After the brief moment of silence came a question of Megatron's plans and whereabouts. How typical.
"As far as I know," and he knew well - he'd hacked into tyrant's personal data only yesterday, "he's out to some valley to the north, with all his minions."
Dinobot of course didn't believe him, and they went into another fight, verbal this time, and finally, FINALLY the stupid lizard decided that 'traitorous spiders were not worth his time'. Tarantulas fully shared the opinion, though he of course put a 'raptors' in place of 'spiders'. He made a mental note to do something really nasty to the ex-pred, and went down to his lair.

His latest - and probably second most important - project waited for him in the lab. He was very pleased to see that the machine had finished transmetalizing the last of components while he was out. Excellent. He set to work, installing very precise, and very small, sensors and mechanisms in what looked like ordinary metal bars - only they weren't ordinary at all. He'd tested them before for flexibility, endurance, and impact absorbing properties, and was more than satisfied with the results. Now it all needed just a few finishing touches...

He finished his work just in time to witness - through the arachnoids he had crawling around the bases - the return of not so happy looking Megatron & co. Not long after that, the Maximals made appearance as well - battered, but in much better moods than the Predacons. Apparently, something didn't go well for the purple tin-can. Teeheehee.
________________________________________________________________


The next day he was laughing his head off, when Taraxa gave him a full report on just how badly it went for the Preds. Megatron had the dumbest idea to annihilate humanity, and it blew up in his face. He only just gave an order to destroy the valley, when Maximals, alerted by Dinobot, fell down on them like ten tones of construction beams. Even having an immortal mass-murderer didn't do Megatron any good.
 
"Teeheehee-- Wait a cycle! What were you doing there?"
Taraxa blinked, surprised by the sudden anger in his voice. "Well, I had to help..."
"But you don't know anything about warfare! You could have been damaged!" And what would happen to all his plans then? "I thought you despised fighting!"

Taraxa looked at the ground with a serious expression. "It... it depends on what are you fighting for," she said. And then she smiled shyly. "It's nice you're worried about me."
"I'm not worried," he snapped.
The arch sparkles danced in her optics. "Then why are you fuming?"
"I'm not fuming!" He crossed his arms and glared.
Fuming. Worried. Huh! As if. She has no idea what she's talking about.

Her smile didn't widen, but intensified somehow. "Of course you're not," she agreed. "I have to go now; I'm not supposed to be outside anyway. See you!"

When she left, Tarantulas spent a while doing nothing even remotely resembling fuming, and then tapped his 'fingers' on his forearm thoughtfully, as her words registered. Not supposed to be outside. There was an undertone in this sentence, suggesting that the Maximals didn't know she was outside. But how was that possible? He quickly transformed and followed the femme discreetly.

He lost her somewhere near Axalon, Which was not possible - the terrain there was flat as a frying pan. Hmm, interesting. He searched the area methodically, with professionalism every PSP officer possessed, and found it. A small, very well concealed bot-hole. He lifted the lid and peeked inside. A tunnel. Well, well, well.
He raised his head and stared at the Maximals base, until he perceived a small movement under it. A silver-green spider appeared seemingly out of nowhere, crawled up the ship's wall and disappeared inside a small hatch.

Tarantulas cackled. Well. An itsy-bitsy she-spider had made herself a little backdoor for 'sneak-out' purposes. Absolutely perfect. Her way out would be his way in. Now all he had to do was wait for the best moment to strike. He smirked. He was good at waiting.

______________________________________________________________________

End of part two

Click here for part 3