Bleeding Anarchy

Writer's Note: I started this fic ages ago, and had a good idea for it...only now I've rediscovered it, I can't remember all of that idea. It starts off well enough, so I may finish it someday, when I don't have so many other projects hanging over my head.

The gentle hum of the ships engines had the same effect on Blackarachnia as a train has for most people. Although it was a continuous noise, it did not annoy her. It was almost comforting, like a gentle, constant song to remind her that she was getting closer to her desired destination.

The emergency shuttle was small, as it was not designed to carry a large amount of anything. The Ark, the Axalon (or what was left of it) - they were left light-years behind them, and so was the Beast Wars. She hadn't gotten off all that badly in the end. She was no longer cursed by Tarantulas, or under the ever-watchful eye of Megatron (he was tied to the roof of their ship - not much he could do from that position) and she had Silverbolt with her, as silly as he may be. Her affection for him sometimes made her feel silly herself, but each time she shrugged it off. He cared about her more than anything, and she had learned to care for him...perhaps even love him.

She stretched in her chair with a lazy, dazed smile. She felt very content at that moment, despite the fact she'd had to sleep across a row of seats for the long duration of this trip. She was almost home now, back to Cybertron, although the thought still seemed very distant. Her foot brushed against Rattrap's shoulder. The small bot in front of her snorted.

"Keep yer stinkin' feet offa ma metal, legs," he muttered. He was staring intently at the monitors, although there seemed little to see.

"You should talk. You're the only bot I know who can pull off a smell the way you do," she said dryly, only mildly irritated. She felt indifferent towards Rattrap. He was just another Maximal who had a particularly bad grudge towards all ex-Predacons.

"What are you staring at anyway?" she asked a few seconds later.

Rattrap shifted in his seat and said quietly: "Cybertron. It should be comin' inta view jus' now."

This caught her attention.

"Really? I thought we still had another few decacycles."

Rattrap shrugged. "Me too, but Rhinox tested out da max speed of dis thing. Turns out it's faster dan our Axalon. We've been at top speed fer da last few days so accordin' ta his calculations, we should be dere soon."

Blackarachnia was in awe. Everyone was asleep towards the back of the ship except for her and Rattrap. It was his turn on monitor duty and she simply wasn't tired enough to sleep.

"Should I wake the others?" she suggested. She was certain they'd want to be awake when they started to land.

"Nah," Rattrap said, "they'll wake when we get da hailing frequency. Ah! Dere's our planet now," he said. She got to her feet and walked over to him. She stood beside him and followed his gaze at the monitors. There it was. Cybertron. Distant and grey, but getting rapidly closer.

Rattrap suddenly became animated and started typing furiously. There was a change in the rythm of the engines and all around her, little things began to change. Rattrap prepared to enter Cybertron's atmosphere and all the lights seemed to dim as the power began to build up elsewhere in the ship. The change in speed seemed to stir the others and they began to wake.

Optimus was the first one over, then Rhinox, Cheetor and Silverbolt. Rattrap explained to them that they were now within the frequency zone and all they had to do was wait for a permission signal to enter the planet. They waited.

And waited.

"We've been hovering here for some time, Rattrap," Silverbolt said, being the first to break the heavy, expectant silence.

Rattrap's expression had grown into a deep frown.

"I know...I jus' can't figure out why dey won't contact us. We're definitely within range...maybe dis ship's too old. I mean, as Legs said, da history tracks didn't mention dis shuttle..."

Rhinox shook his head.

"No, the sensors pick up all objects in space and identify them and what they're carrying. It's very sophisticated. There's no way they could miss us."

"Maybe we should just go in? No one's stopping us," Cheetor said.