Code of Honor
Part II: The Agendas
Chapter 1
By: Master Solo
Note:
If I ever get around to rewriting S3, you might be able to find some
resemblance between this fic and Return of the Jedi, but by no means am I ever
writing a crossover. Sorry for the
lateness. I must warn you all,
because of my classes, I won’t be able to write a whole lot, especially as we
really get into the year.
In the dark coldness of interstellar vacuum, a rippling, bluish, Transwarp wavefront expanded through the stars, moving through space and time.
In the Axalon, Rhinox carefully studied the wireframe simulation of the wavefront moving towards the Cybertron planetary system. He announced. “Transwarp wavefront should be entering Cybertronian space right about now. They should be detecting it in a few cycles.” He then turned to face the other Maximals. “This is it. We’re going home.”
Cheers erupted like fireworks upon the arrival of Rhinox’s news as Optimus and Cheetor gave each other a metallic high five and shouted simultaneously. “YES!”
“Cybertron, the home I never knew.” Silverbolt mused as he and Dinobot watched the cheers as outsiders. The fuzor knew he had a life on Cybertron, but all that he could remember was a vague flash of a distant Maximal outpost.
And the home that, for me, can never again be home. Dinobot added silently. He was an officer in General Seaclamp’s army and the barracks in the Predacon communities were home, but no sensible Predacon leader would allow in his territory one who not only joined the Maximals but played a large hand in the destruction of both of the priceless, golden disks. The future might not be fixed, but it seemed that destiny designed for him the life of an exile and foreigner, for there was no other path remaining for the former Predacon. There was an infinite number of futures and yet never a choice for Dinobot since he saw the humans in mortal danger. Such was the irony of his existence.
“You are fortunate, fuzor, that you never knew that home.” Dinobot barely whispered loud enough for only Silverbolt to hear with his lupine hearing.
“Oh, yer gonna love it!” Rattrap exclaimed excitedly. “I know this place where you can get dirty mech-fluid with a touch of radium! Take yer head right off! Not only that…” The rat suddenly trailed off when he noticed Cheetor listening with adolescent interest and Dinobot looking rather disturbed. “What’s da matter with ya, lizard lips?”
“It is none of your concern, rodent.” Dinobot replied absent-mindedly, as if he was lost in another time in another galaxy. That rodent had just reminded him of another thing that he had terribly missed about his past. Before he left Cybertron, he always came to a place and drank the drink that Rattrap had described to celebrate and occasionally, to ease his troubles. His exile, which would not affect another bot, was something that he desperately wanted to drink off. Dinobot gruffly shook his head. He was an exile with honor, and such robots did not drink off their troubles. Plus, every time he hit the bar to drink off his problems, the femmes in the bar would either approach him to ask ‘what’s wrong’ or gossip about what could possibly trouble the warrior. The unbearable attention usually drove Dinobot out of the bars within the first five cycles.
“Ah, forget them, Big R. You and I can go to the Six Lasers Over Cybertron amusement park! There’s the Space Slide, and the Galaxy Coasters…” Cheetor stepped up and patted Rattrap’s shoulder.
“Kid, don’t make me hurt ya.” Rattrap interrupted.
The transmetal cheetah suppressed his disappointment at Rattrap’s decline. Perhaps he should have offered the rides to another friend. Dinobot and his gruff, Predacon attitude plus his anti-hero personality made him out of the question and Rhinox was as renowned for his busy schedule as he was for his great variety of skills. Cheetor then shifted his thoughts to Optimus and Silverbolt. The Maximal leader was like a father to Cheetor and the transmetal cheetah wanted desperately to take the gorilla, but he was a Maximal Elder as well as the captain of the Axalon. That left Silverbolt, a good friend who might be willing to try the rides. “Hey Silverbolt, wanna go to the Six Lasers when we get back to Cybertron?”
“Why not?” The hesitant Silverbolt shrugged.
In the Predacon base, the computer showed a wireframe model of the blastwave and the Cybertron system identical to Rhinox’. Megatron watched with a bored expression for a few seconds before he shut it off and shifted his attention to his loyal ant, Inferno.
“Blast! What’s the news of the early humans?” Megatron demanded.
“Our interrupted attack on the valley caused several tribes to scatter, Royalty. It will be impossible to find them now.” Inferno reported.
“Grr… I have one high-risk option remaining.” Megatron pounded his fist on an armrest.
“And that is…?” Asked Inferno.
“Gamble, and hope that the dice roll in my favor.” Megatron snapped, and the screen changed to show Blackarachnia, who was sneaking out of the base. The spider cautiously glanced around to make certain that she was not being observed before tiptoeing out of sight.
Silverbolt flew above a mountain range, swooping between two peaks. Normally, he would have admired the aerial view of the rugged beauty and the roaring waterfall that sat below the ledge, but he was too preoccupied. His mech fluid raced through his systems as the image of the black and gold Blackarachnia came into his mind.
It was not proper to strike females, but she was the enemy. One solution came into Silverbolt’s mind, but he knew that it would be far from easy to achieve. He would have to show her the Maximal beauty he had seen in the spider and then present that to the other Maximals.
As Silverbolt skidded in a downward spiral and prepared to land, he transformed into robot mode before touching the silt beneath his feet, stopping just short of a pool of water. Everything in the area, from the serenity to the soft, warm breeze to the landscape reflected the serenity that the fuzor should have felt.
The fuzor gazed down at the reflection before him. He did not know if his troubles showed on his armor, but the ripples in the pond distorted whatever emotions boiled through his circuits, just as it had given him a peaceful reflection. Did the ripples represent the conflicting values that tore him apart? Were they saying that there would eventually be peace? The subtle touch of a weapon against his shoulders brought him out of his thoughts and back to the reality around him. He had been so deep into his thoughts that he had managed to bar out his keen, lupine sense of hearing.
“I think you’re carrying a graviton generator, Maximal. Hand it over, or else.” Threatened the alluring voice of Blackarachnia. For brief moment, Silverbolt just sat there, unmoving. The voice starkly contrasted and yet at the same time blended perfectly into the tranquil surroundings, giving it all a darkly seductive mood that spoke against the vibrant shades of yellow and light blue that dominated the scene.
“Why the weapon?” Silverbolt slowly raised his head with a sigh and squared his shoulders. Then he spun around, grabbing the blaster from her hand without meeting resistance. The sight of the infinitely beautiful, yellow and black face of Blackarachnia settled and yet heaped upon Silverbolt’s troubles as the spider was jerked forward and crashed against his armor. It would ultimately be her joining the Maximals and realizing the good he had seen within those crimson optics.
“I thought this might make things easier for you.” Replied the spider.
“Nothing about this is easy.” Sighed the fuzor as he released Blackarachnia, turning away slightly so as to not show his conflicting emotions. He asked himself. Was it right to steal from the base, even if it was to bring another in?
A golden compartment in his torso opened and he removed a gismo about the size of a bouncy ball. The eager Blackarachnia seized the opportunity and snatched the disk-like graviton generator from Silverbolt’s hand.
“You brought it!” She almost squealed with delight, oblivious to the pain and seriousness that registered on Silverbolt’s face.
“Blackarachnia, this isn’t necessary. Cybertron is coming. Join with us! You could be reprogrammed. Remember, your protoform was a Maximal!” Silverbolt whispered pleadingly as he stared deeply into the crimson optics. As if to reinforce the words, his large, metal hands patted the spider woman’s shoulders.
Blackarachnia turned back momentarily before studying Silverbolt’s face carefully as she considered the option. When she finally settled on a decision, she gave the fuzor a seductive grin as she closed the golden compartment from which she took the generator. “Sorry, chunk-style, but I like being a bad girl. And I know somewhere beneath this squeaky-clean plating of yours, I know you like it, too. Hmm…?”
The spider glanced up at Silverbolt, who returned the gesture. As the two stared into the depths of each other’s optics, Silverbolt tried to resist for a second, but gave in. The pair dropped the generator and the blaster as they gave each other a passionate embrace.
The Transwarp wave expanded outward in an ever-growing circumference and finally struck a predator-shaped, Predacon command post, triggering power failures and alarm klaxons.
“Warning, circuits disrupted. All systems offline.” A computerized voice warned as lights flickered before going out. Inside the post, flashes of light flared as sparks flew from damaged equipment. Several dark, vague shapes of Predacon figures clambered down the corridors to address their emergency problems.
“Predacon Command Post One inoperative. Emergency power activated.” The computer reported after one of the robots tinkered with some consoles. Dim, red emergency lights flickered on. Inside the command room of the outpost, three dark figures rose to a round table via turbolift.
The robot in the middle, General Ramhorn, was the first to reach the table and activate his dim, emergency light, illuminating his hardened face. The wide, beefy one to Ramhorn’s right was the next, leaving the thin, frail robot, perhaps the most human-like of the three, to finish the lighting.
“Tripredacus Council is now in session. General Cicadacon, report.” Ramhorn announced in a dark, murky voice when all three emergency lights came on, barely illuminating the three faces. His face was shaped like that of a middle-aged human from the military, but twin beams, which protruded from his oddly shaped helmet, held the only vestige of a jaw, giving him a hard, impersonal look. Compared to his two companions, he was neither bulky nor frail, but somewhat like a mix of the other two. Two muscular arms stuck out from a round but not too large torso plate, suggesting some degree of youth and large amounts of ambition.
“The Transwarp wavefront that disrupted the station has been identified, General Ramhorn. Signature matches that of the ship stolen by Megatron.” Reported the large, burly one named Cicadacon. His helmet was similar to that of Ramhorn’s, except that two horns stood atop the piece of armor instead of a pair of bat-like wings. Overall, the figure was large and imposing, with a collection of military badges, which hung from a thick chain worn around the neck adding to his overwhelming presence. Military accomplishment and might were written all over his bulky form.
“Megatron. I thought we heard the last of that renegade.” Snorted Ramhorn.
“His ship and the Axalon both vanished last Megacycle.” Stated Seaclamp, the only Tripredacus general who did not wear a helmet. His face, which was very formless and soft, was human and yet inhuman to the extremes. He sat directly across from General Cicadacon, providing stark contrast on the council with his frail frame and appearance of age.
“Yes, but remember, General Seaclamp, we paid the price in diplomatic repercussions.” Reminded Cicadacon. Insulted and incensed, General Seaclamp leaned across the table and readied an insult to snarl at his bulky counterpart. In return, Cicadacon sneered back.
“Generals.” Ramhorn, the apparent leader of the council, pushed the other two back to their respective places as he spoke. “Ever since the Autobots defeated our Decepticon ancestors, we Predacons have worked secretly toward the day when we might rise up to take what is rightfully ours.”
“Megatron is brilliant, but a rogue.” Commented Seaclamp.
“And apparently he may be up to his old tricks again.” Concluded Cicadacon.
“If he is, we have to handle this situation first.” Ramhorn stated and Cicadacon nodded in agreement.
“I have already sent a signal to one of our Cybertron satellites. It will ‘accidentally’ explode, blocking the Maximal sensors fron detecting the Transwarp wave.” The beefy Cicadacon then added.
Outside the meeting chamber, a satellite in Cybertron’s orbit exploded like Cicadacon promised, nullifying the section of the wave that was to pass through Cybertron.
Back inside the Predacon outpost, the generals continued their discussion.
“And I have arranged for a covert operative. You know the one.” Seaclamp spoke and the other generals nodded and chuckled with grim appreciation. He continued. “He has been given our secretly developed Transwarp cruiser. He will trace the wave back to its source.”
In a hangar beneath a Predacon colony, there parked a sleek ship that closely resembled a bird of prey.
Inside
the meeting chamber, Ramhorn asked. “If
Megatron is discovered still operating on his own agenda, what are the agent’s
instructions?
“Terminate with extreme prejudice.” Seaclamp replied grimly.
Silverbolt flew toward the Maximal base, whose elevated defenses dropped momentarily to admit him.
“About time you got back. Sentinel’s on full alert.” Said Optimus as Silverbolt rose into the scene from the turbolift.
“Allow me to execute…” Dinobot began, but the Maximal leader held him off.
“Is there trouble?” Asked the fuzor.
Before answering, Optimus studied the scanner screen, which was sweeping the outside territory. “It’s now or never for Megatron. If Cybertron shows, he’ll need hostages.”
“So, where were ya, bird-dog?” Asked Rattrap as Silverbolt sat down beside him.
“Scout patrol.” Silverbolt replied simply.
“Hmph. This is hard to believe.” Snorted Dinobot, who had also been out on patrol but returned much earlier.
“What’s so hard to believe, Chopperface? If I remember correctly, you needed us to pick ya up when ya wandered inta dat valley.” Rattrap turned to the former Predacon, initiating yet another one of their famous disputes.
“You remember it wrong, Cheese Breath.” Dinobot snorted.
“Oh, yeah, Lizard Lips?”
Silverbolt sighed in relief as he began to silently work on the shields. Normally, he would have regarded the brotherly banter with curiosity, but this time, he saw in it temporary escape from the terrible betrayal he had committed.