28.Oct.06

White Fang

By: Blackbolt52003

Part Three

            “Good morning, Brother!” White Fang greeted him.  Silverbolt looked at him, disgust apparent on his canine-like face.

            “Get away from me, SCUM!” He growled.

            White Fang stepped back in surprise, his wolfish ears flattening themselves against his head.  “B-brother?” He managed to stutter out.

            “Don’t you dare call him, ‘brother’.  You’re a stupid Akrilysis freak and nothing more!” Blackarachnia appeared onto the scene.  White Fang winced at the harshness of her voice and stepped back, only to be pushed down.  He shakily stood back up, his optics meeting those of Cheetor’s.

            “Ha!  So THIS is the might of a pure Akrilysis?  What a wimp!”

            “Let’s just kill him…” Kameko appeared, grinning venomously at the wolf.  She twirled a small knife expertly in her hand. “I can’t WAIT…to kill him and my blade can’t wait to taste his mech-fluid…”

            “Don’t tell me you all…” Optimus’s strong voice came from behind her.  “…were going to get started without me…?” He smirked at the crest-fallen and horrified look on White Fang’s face.  “Honestly, Freak, did you really think that you would STILL be welcomed here?  Think about it, really…  An Akrilysis…in MY ranks?  I think not.”

            Just then, Rhinox appeared from around the corner.  “What’s going on?” He asked, seeing the cluster of transformers.

            “Just preparing to kill the Freak.”  Kameko laughed, licking her knife blade lightly, freaking White Fang thoroughly out.  He had always thought the young girl was peaceful…not BLOODTHIRSTY!!!  “If I heard right, these…FREAKS—” White Fang winced at her tone,  “—can survive what normal transformers can’t.  I want to put it to the test...in an ‘experiement’.  So, ya wanna join?”

            Stunned horror was on the rhino’s face and White Fang was relieved that— Rhinox’s revolver guns were pointed straight at him, a deadly look on the transformer’s face.  “You guys…were going to kill him…without MY ASSISTANCE?  Yeah right!  I get first dibs on his spark!”

            “Fine!  But I get to attack him first!”

            “No way, Kameko!  The right is MINE.”  Cheetor hissed at the turtle who glowered back.

            “How about…first come first serve?” Blackarachnia suggested coyingly.

            Glares from both Kameko and Cheetor bounded at each other before they both hissed in unison: “Fine.”

            All the transformers present, save White Fang, advanced forward, completely surrounding him and cutting off any escape route that might’ve been.  Each wielded their weapon.

            He woke up, with a sharp yelp as he fell out of his bed.  Rubbing his bumped forehead, White Fang sat down at the edge of the metal bed, panting heavily.

            That dream again…  He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe out that blasted, pounding headache of his.  This was the third time this night he had dreamt that nightmare…  He glanced at the Cybertronian Clock on the wall facing him and sighed.

            His yellow optics looked down at his clasped hands, his arms slanting down from their resting places on his knee joints.  His shoulders were slumped and that always cheery, optimistic attitude was gone from him…perhaps forever.  To think optimism…the thing he lived by…managed to survive hurt, heartaches and disgraces by…was now a stranger to him.

That she-wolf…Kiche… was it?  She was the one who had brought all this onto him.  This aching pain in his spark, this horrible, hurting loneliness…this…this… indescribable hurt in his chest. 

            If only he hadn’t met her at all…things would’ve been different.  Very different.  He wouldn’t have spent all his free time indoors or outside, closed away or far away from his comrades.  Even though they did not say anything directly into his face, the taunts in their actions and expressions and whispered conversations behind his back…hurt just as much.

            But, try as he might, White Fang couldn’t bring himself to hate her.  Yes, he was that much of a nice guy.  He knew he had every right to, for she was the one who got him to use his powers, the powers he was to never use, the powers…that set him apart from his friends.  She didn’t have to do it…she didn’t have to pain him…she didn’t have to cause this torture upon him…  Yet…she did…

            He clenched his fists and stood up, frustrated.  Why couldn’t he HATE her?  He could at least DESPISE her.  That much would’ve been enough for him.  To just despise her.  Even a tiny trickle of anger towards her would’ve been enough to satisfy him.  But…he…he couldn’t hate her…her couldn’t bring himself to think of her as one of his enemies…

He just…couldn’t.

            He exited his quarters, an emotionless expression on his face.  It was early in the morning, so if he was lucky, his comrades would still be recharging in their quarters and leave him alone and spare him the hurts.  He walked into the Battle Simulation room, knowing he had to learn how to control his newly discovered powers.  Whether he liked it or not, he was an Akrilysis, no denying it.  And denying it wouldn’t help if he was in dire need of his powers to aid him in battle in a life-or-death situation.

            As he booted up the computer and activated the training system, he found himself wondering…  Was this was Akrilysis felt about themselves?  Did they pity themselves, or hold their heads up high and not let those deadly and dangerous verbal daggers pierce their sparks?  Were the ways they were being treated leave them to hate normal transformers and get their special powers?  It could be possible.  With lots of training and making alliances with the aliens that normally came around to Cybertron for a visit.

Cybertron was a thriving tourist attraction, but, because they were a long way from home, the Beast Warriors had no idea how their home planet was faring.  And they never would unless they won the Beast Wars.  And only ONE side could win.  Who would win?  And triumph, making it safely back to Cybertron?  Making it safely back…to home?

He booted up the computer and activated the Battle Simulator, making sure its setting was on physical, not hologram.  He let the keyboard go back into the wall, the compartment sliding over it.  Standing in the middle, he readied himself into a fighting stance.  Wait.  He froze and got hit quickly by the training robot that had come out of one of the walls.  The door slid back closed as he stared at the robot, trying to devise a plan in order to defeat it.  He dodged the next strike and the next, all the time his mind still thinking as his body unconsciously went through the motions he had before gone through his head.

If Kiche was half-Akrilysis…then she must’ve gotten worst treatment that he and other Akrilysis would ever get.  Being half of both types of transformers who would forever be enemies.  Being both Akrilysis and normal.  Being humiliated, rejected, hurt and nearly killed by those you called family…

            He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.  And for the second time, he let his guard down and was struck immediately by a powerful uppercut to his chin, the blow sending him flying into the air.  Doing a small flip in mid-air, he landed, huffing, sending a stream of ice shurikens and daggers raining down on the robot, which blocked them away easily.

            In order to defeat an enemy stronger than you, you must use their strengths and weaknesses against them.  But…how could he defeat the training robot?  Its armor was the same material as war ships were built and repaired with. Its metallic features and no-uncovered spots had aware sensors upgraded to the max, making it impossible to find an opening and attack while hitting a vital spot.  Not to mention the fact that the computer had analyzed his reaction speed and the training robot was moving even faster now, and he had to dodge lasers.

            He got hit hard on the head many times.  Once, he was even certain he blacked out, but quickly regained consciousness.  Possibly it was because of his powers.  And he continued being beaten up by the training robot.

            Truly, I tell you, truly difficult training.  And when time was up…most of White Fang’s armor was banged in, his mech-fluid dripping down from his lower lip and his shoulders slumping at his immediate weakness.  When he had faced Kiche, her movements had been almost graceful, despite the fact that she had been trying to kill him at the time.

            Almost like she was using all her strength wisely, as though saving it for future use, drawing a little bit more as he gained more control over his Akrilysis powers.  That battle…she could’ve killed him and Silverbolt with one gesture and a bit of her power…yet she chose not to.  Almost like…it was almost like…he was her student and she was teaching him through fighting.

            The irony.

            He could’ve smiled had he not just been interrupted from his sparring with the robot when Optimus Primal’s voice boomed from the PA systems installed all around the Maximal base.

            “All Maximals, report to the Control Room!  REPORT TO THE CONTR—”

          The announcement was suddenly cut off by shouts and yells and sounds of gunfire and weapons being used.  The PA made a little fizzed sound before it died as White Fang rushed immediately to the Control Room.  He knew something was wrong.  Not because of the announcement had been interrupted by what sounded like evidence of a battle, but because Optimus had not said ‘please’ at all in his sentence, something the Maximal Leader never neglected to forget and that he had yelled.

            But now…

            When he arrived on the scene, it looked like hell had been here. 

Everyone…everyone…was offline, mech-fluid streaming out of his or her insides.  He froze in shock.  No, more than shock.  Was this…was this…fear?  Was this what it was like to be afraid for your life and know not what to do?

            The culprit responsible for all this turned around slowly, after yanking out a twin sword viciously out of a body of a bot he could not make out the face of, even if he had tried his hardest.  But he was not paying attention to the body.  His attention was solely on the murderer:

            Kiche.

            “I had to do this, you know.  I had no choice.”  She raised her forearm, her optics green and piercing, yet full of sadness and angst and anger, and pointed, her face down.  The symbol of a Predacon…and…the scar…  A horrible, cross-like scar was diagonally going up to the wrist of the female’s arm, where it stopped suddenly and abruptly.  “This is a scar…one only gets such a scar either in battle from an enemy…or…if…if…” She looked into his optics and he was shocked to see tears down her face, yet he had not heard her sniffling at all.

            “If what?”

            “If…my will does not matter at all to my body and my Akrilysis blood.”

            “W-What does it mean?” He stepped forward, his face a very picture of horror and shock.

            “It means…” She smiled sadly, yet sadistically.  “This scar and the fact that my will does not matter anymore…  They mean—”

            He was shook roughly awake by a small metallic red hand.  Groggily he murmured, “The battle robot?”  He felt a kick to his mid-section and clutched it heartily, his eyes snapping straight open.  He opened his mouth to yell, but her hand clamped over it, making a muffled, “MMMPH!”

            Tree-Climber?

            “Yo…” She looked around nervously, as though making sure that no one would suddenly step in and see them together.  “…I have something to tell you.”

            What?

            “Keliko doesn’t know, no one else knows, and I just recently found out.  From my ancestors.”

            Ancestors?  From her ancestors?  Wouldn’t they be dead?

            “Betcha think that I’m delusional and crazy, right?  ’Cuz they’re dead, right?  Well, I can contact ’em.  So…yah.”  She let go of his mouth.  “Four words and I’m outta here.  You gonna listen or what?  Cuz I’m only going to say this once.  No repeats, got it?”

            He nodded, forgetting that he was able to speak now because her hand was off.

            “I’m an Akrilysis too.”

            Shock.

            Mouth open.

            Agape.

            Mouth open agape in shock.

            Blink.

            “Tree-Climber—” He said weakly, sitting up slowly, but the young squirrel was already gone, leaving as soon as she finished saying ‘too’.  He stopped himself and stared out at nothing in particular.

            “I’m an Akrilysis too.”

            He furrowed his optical eyebrows together.  What did she mean by that?

            He moped around in the cave in Grid Delta.  From Tree-Climber’s childish scrawled out report on this, it appeared that the she-squirrel had found Keliko and recruited her here.  Strangely enough, he felt quite uneasy here.

            Perhaps it was because his Beast Mode was interfering with its instincts, or perhaps he was used to more loud and metallic places.  Either way, it didn’t matter.  White Fang didn’t like this place, but it soothed his nerves and helped him feel a little better about the shunning from his comrades.

            “So…how long you gonna mope on those rocks?”

            The blue transformer looked up into the face of Kiche.  Shock.  Then, realization that it had just been a nightmare and…nothing more…struck him.  He just shot a sad look her way before looking back down again.

            “I…honestly don’t know.” His voice was soft, nearly inaudible.  “Maybe as long as it takes.”

            “So you’re saying you’ll stay here forever?  Riiiiiiiight…” Kiche made herself comfortable sitting down next to him.  “Kid, look at it this way: Akrilysis have been treated like this since the beginning of time.  We’re basically aliens.  Aliens that no one likes or respects.  You’ll have to live with prejudice all your life now that it’s been revealed, so you might as well learn how to now.

            “Kiche…” White Fang tried to protest, but found he couldn’t.  So he settled with another thing.  “I’m not a kid.”

            “But you sure as slag act like one.  You don’t get what you want; you start getting all upset and moping.  Yep.  To me, you’re DEFINITELY a kid.”

            “But how does that—” He began.

            “Apply to you?” She finished for him.  “Well…use your slagging core processor for once, you dunce!  What do you think?”

            “That I should probably start acting more like an adult?” He joked.  Seeing her nod, he sighed, but understood anyway.

            “…”

Kiche suddenly tilted her head to the side and listened, her eyes closed.  Snapping them open after a few nanos, she stood up and outstretched her arm forward.

“Erm, Kiche…what are you--?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed forward, in one quick, nearly blurred up, motion.  The flames that had sprouted around her wrist were now shooting forward from her palm.  They struck at an unsuspecting Inferno who had been hiding ‘cleverly’ and he yelped in pain.  While White Fang’s skills were unpolished and bound to land him in a little troublesome and annoying situation now and then, Kiche’s were honed to the best she could have honed them to, any weakness she might’ve had already fixed and added to her strengths.

White Fang winced at the state the ant was in.  “You’d better get back to the Ark.” Kiche told him as she kicked Inferno into stasis lock.  “Mega-dork wants you to become a drone, you know.  No mind.  Does only what he says to do.  You want to become a drone, Kid?”

“No.  And I am NOT a kid!”

“Good.  Keep that attitude up and he’ll NEVER get you.” She booted the ant into the sky and out of sight and smiled a genuine smile before disappearing into a fast blur.  White Fang just stared at where she was…and then a grin was on his face.

“Thanks, Kiche.” He whispered, before going into Beast Mode and heading back to base.  He had his duties to do!  And there was NO WAY Megatron would get him!

Well…not if he could help it.