KNOW YOUR ENEMY – Part One of Four
Written and posted (c) 2007 by SolitaryHawk.
The following characters are the property of Transformers Production Company, Inc.
This story takes place sometime during BEAST WARS - Season One.
NOTE: None of the probe's scanned details are actual 'Transformer' specs. Just the result of my own warped imagination...
Deep in the recesses of his lair, Tarantulas paused in the middle of his meal when the nearby console chimed to get his attention. His green eyes, all eight of them, narrowed in suspicion while he drank the liquefied internals of his prey through a large pink straw – Sluuuurp?
"Eh? Now what's this, then?" he muttered under his breath. He threw the carcass of a small piglet into a darkened corner where it joined other bodies in varying stages of putrefaction. There was a reason why Predacons, including Blackarachnia who had similar appetites, refused to ever come down here to this subterranean spider's nest. It stank of decay and mold, was poorly lit, and its walls and furniture were as warped as its owner.
It was, in Tarantulas' humble opinion, the ultimate bachelor pad.
The computer beeped again and the huge spider skittered over to it and transformed into robot mode to properly operate the keypad. The monitor winked on, displaying an area of space with a grid coordinate displayed beneath the targeted area and flashing a yellow caution marker. The Predacon was intrigued. He hadn't received any readings like this one in months.
"Temporal anomaly detected," the computer informed him, as if he were blind to the obvious.
"Well, well, well," he tittered in excitement. "It looks like they've finally returned! "
In the control room of the Maximal ship, Rhinox was also engrossed in the latest space telemetry. Ever since his failure in contacting the Cybertronian probe two months ago, he had made drastic revisions to the Axelon's sensors, basically rewiring all of the antiquated systems to pull more power from the ship's energon powerblock, thus boosting the readings. He still felt, even after all this time, that he had let everyone down and had since made it his personal mission to redeem that earlier failure.
"Rhinox to Optimus," he rumbled in the comlink. "I need you in the control room ASAP."
His superior wasted no time. The large science officer was as no-nonsense in his demeanor as he was in his scientific pursuits. If he wanted something, he meant it. "What's going on?" Optimus Primal, the Maximal commander, asked briskly once he stepped onto the bridge.
"I have a reading from space sector Kappa," came the answer. "It indicates a temporal disturbance just occurred."
"Any idea what caused it?"
"Nothing definitive. Something came through. Whatever it was, it's small. Not a ship. It's entering the planet's atmosphere as we speak."
"Is it another probe?" the large silverback gorilla asked eagerly and then hesitated. "...Or something else?"
Rhinox's usual grimace deepened. "I don't know. I have the trajectory of the landing zone already mapped out. It's going down in Sector Four-Oh-Nine. Do we have anybody near there?"
Optimus turned to the circular control table and called up the information. He stared at the topography map for a very long time, fixated on two Maximal insignia's very close to the projected area of touchdown. "Well," he said without much surprise, "that's just prime..."
"Optimus?" Rhinox swiveled around in his massive chair. He looked over at the mapping grid and saw that the pair were Rattrap and Dinobot.
"Oh no," he groaned.
Despite the reservations of the current bridge crew, they would have been relieved to know that Rattrap and Dinobot were actually getting along on this particular patrol. There were a number of reasons for this odd truce, but it had nothing to do with anything remotely resembling friendship. Rattrap was tired for one thing. He had stayed up too late the night before playing video games with Cheetor, a fellow crewmember who was an adolescent robot in both age and behavior, and he had forgotten all about this patrol until he had been called to the control room at the proverbial crack of dawn. Fatigue made him grumpy but it also kept his mouth at bay as he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He was an Intelligence/Surveillance model; not designed for travel over long distances. He was also hungry as hell.
Beside him, an immense velociraptor led the pace, having to curtail his usual long strides out of consideration for the rodent's short legs. He did this without complaint, surprisingly, and it took awhile for Rattrap's dulled senses to figure out why.
"Y'know, I think I just figured something out about you Preds," he said, pausing to take a break as he tucked his cold paws under his armpits.
Dinobot kept on walking for a few more feet, realized that he was alone, and reluctantly came back. "And what is that?" he asked with a hint of his usual sarcasm.
"Cold temperatures. You don't like the cold, do ya?" the rodent pointed out. "You've been shivering for the last hour."
"I do not-" the raptor broke off as his striped hide twitched uncontrollably. "-sh-shiver."
His small companion smiled. "Yeah, right." It was one weird planet that they had crashed on, that was for sure. There didn't seem to be any identifiable seasons. One morning it could be a blasted hot day, and the next there could be a foot of snow on the ground. Unfortunately this seemed to be one of those miserable bad weather days. He didn't have much of a fur coat, but it sure offered him more protection than his companion's thin scaly skin. At the moment the wind was starting to really pick up, driving icy needles of sleet against their bodies. "I've been on your old ship, remember? It's like a sauna with all that lava pooled around an' all. Damn near roasted me! Must be some sort of reptilian/insect thing, eh?"
"I am not in the mood to discuss the habitation preferences of my former comrades," Dinobot said aloofly and then relented with, "But I prefer the heat, yes."
"Huh. You must have just loved it on Cybertron, then. Always a constant 14.5 degrees Centigrade, there. Of course, in robot form it ain't so noticeable, not until you gain some organics from a mission, then ya notice. Why I remember one time-"
"I was not stationed on Cybertron."
"Huh?" That was news to Rattrap. Dinobot didn't talk about his past. Ever. It looked like the cold was numbing ol' chopperface's emotion circuits and making conversation a little bit easier than normal. It was easy to antagonize him, hell, Rattrap could do that any old day of the week (and usually did) but this time he felt compelled to just simply talk. "You didn't? Then where'd you live?"
The raptor wiped ice pellets from his muzzle with a distracted snort and solemnly answered: "Charr."
"Charr?!" the rodent craned his short neck to look up at his companion in disbelief. "That ol' Decepticon hellhole? I thought that was just a deserted rock."
"Negative. Predacons have had a battalion stationed there for over 40 stellar cycles," he said and abruptly turned around to resume his patrol. Rattrap scrambled to keep up.
"Stationed there for what?" Rattrap asked. When he got no answer, he jumped up and caught a hold of the raptor's long tail and tried to unceremoniously pull him to a stop.
Dinobot rounded on him with a snap of his jaws at the intrusion. He didn't like the questions, although they were a welcome distraction from this miserable weather. But he sure as the Pit didn't like to be touched.
"Stationed there to do what?!" Rattrap demanded.
Bringing his face down to the rodent's level, the raptor hissed, "I am an experienced Front Line Combat Specialist."
"Yeah, yeah, quit'cher bragging and just tell me what-"
"Has it never occurred to you, rodent, how I gained all of my experience and skill during a time when our two factions were supposedly at peace?"
Stunned, Rattrap opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say (even he wasn't sure) was drowned out by a resounding sonic boom. Both of them flinched from the sound and a fireball appeared briefly overhead before arcing westward and landing out of their sight. A few seconds later they felt the shock wave of a small explosion.
"What the slag-?!" the rodent shouted, changing quickly into his robot form. Beside him Dinobot followed suit, pulling his sword free for good measure.
Both of their comlink's crackled to life. "Optimus to Rattrap and Dinobot. Come in."
"Fearless leader, am I glad t'hear you!" Rattrap shouted. "Somethin' just passed by close enough t' singe my whiskers!"
Optimus explained the situation quickly just in case their conversation was being monitored by the Predacons. Dinobot's face tightened up at the mere mention of another Cybertron probe possibly reaching the planet but he wisely kept his mouth shut, letting Rattrap do all of the talking.
"Identify it and report back immediately," were the orders. When their commander signed off, both Maximals sprinted for the landing sight. While they ran, Rattrap looked over at the huge soldier shrewdly. "This gonna be a problem for you?"
Dinobot did an astonished double take, his optics widening in shock. "What do you mean?"
"Don't play all innocent with me! I know how twitchy you get whenever Cybertron is brought up. If it is a probe, I wanna know what you're gonna do when we reach it!"
"I have never shirked my duties, vermin!" came the furious reply. "Unlike you! We will do exactly as Optimus ordered!"
"Fine! Just remember that I'm th' one callin' the shots here, fang-face. You got that? No funny business!"
The soldier's answer was an unintelligible snarl and he purposely pulled ahead. Rattrap, his small legs pumping furiously to keep pace, immediately regretted what he had said (and what he had insinuated, even more) but it was too late to take it back. He didn't trust Dinobot, and probably never would, but the former Predacon had been right about one thing: He always followed orders, even if he wasn't happy about it.
It was certainly more than Rattrap could brag about.
Dinobot came to a sudden abrupt stop at the edge of what looked like a crater and suddenly replaced his sword back to its spine sheathe. Rattrap finally caught up to him, huffing and puffing, and looked down, his optics widening in surprise and recognition. Below them, hovering several feet above the smoldering ground was a large golden orb that looked vaguely like an overgrown seedpod.
"Aw slag, it's one of those alien probe thingies!" He pulled his gun out of its thigh holster and with a move like quicksilver, Dinobot grabbed his arm and started to pull him back.
"Don't provoke it," he said in a low, cautious tone.
"What'cha talking about? It-"
Ignoring him, the soldier slapped his chest plate to activate his comlink. "Dinobot to Optimus."
"Optimus here. What's the situation?"
"I would say the situation is critical. It's a probe identical to the one that attacked us at the Standing Stones."
"Fall back!" Optimus said quickly. "Under no circumstances are either of you to approach that thing. Not until you have reinforcements. Understand?"
"Affirmative. I will contact you once we have withdrawn to a safer distance. Dinobot out." Turning to Rattrap, he said flatly, "Holster your weapon and back up. Slowly. No arguments, vermin."
Rattrap didn't. He well remembered that last time one of these space pods had touched down on the planet. Optimus and Dinobot had traveled to view it only to be met by Megatron and Waspinator. Their conflict had activated the alien device and it abducted Optimus Primal while scrapping the three others in a span of seconds. The fact that Dinobot, of all robots, had a deep wariness for the unknown object was not lost on him.
"What was it like? Y'know, when it clicked ...on?" he asked nervously.
Baring his teeth at the memory, the soldier summed it up with one word: "Agony."
"...Oh, okay then. Great."
They had backed up out of sight of the pod and were turning to return to safer ground when the ground exploded two feet to Rattrap's left, sending him sprawling. Dinobot made the mistake of turning towards the crater, believing the probe was attacking, when another blast hit him squarely in the back, driving him down into the cold slush. He slid for about ten feet and went still. There was the sound of maniacal laughter overhead and Terrorsaur hovered over Rattrap, a Predacon of red and silver chrome and armed to the teeth.
"What's up, boys?" he chuckled. "Lovely day to be out on a stroll. Too bad it's going to be your last!" He started firing his shoulder-mounted cannons.
"Lousy Pred-" Rattrap ducked to one side, pulled out his gun and started shooting back.
"No!" Dinobot shouted, raising his head. His back was badly charred, making his sword and shield unavailable. "You idiots! Stand down!"
"Hey! How's 'bout some assistance here?" the Maximal squawked. When Terrorsaur had him pinned down, and looked about to go in for the kill, Dinobot had no choice but to power up his optic lasers and return fire, cursing under his breath as he did so.
Twin green blasts caught a glancing blow across the Flyer's side, driving him into a nosedive before he recovered in midair and pulled back. Rubbing his stinging side, he activated his comlink. "Terrorsaur to Megatron. I, uh, could use a little help here!"
"Keep attacking, fool!" came the expected response from the Predacon leader.
"Yeah, sure, But you're going to be coming soon, right? Right?!" He tapped his communicator lightly. "Helloooo-!" A bullet ricocheted off of his helmet and he had to give up talking and engage the enemy. Not that he minded that, of course, but the mission specifics had been a little vague on this particular assignment. "If you spot any Maximals, start shooting. The closer you do that to the probe the better," Megatron had told him. Now that he thought about it, it sounded like his leader wanted him to deliberately trigger the-
"Uh oh," he muttered, avoiding a volley of laser fire as he cast a sharp glance at the crater.
The probe had risen to ground level and was starting to glow. Exercising the better part of valor, the Flyer decided that this would be a perfect time to haul tail out of here. He transformed into his pterodactyl form and started beating a hasty retreat.
Dinobot immediately recognized that the probe was powering up. He tried to get to his feet and fell back down on one knee, grabbing at his wounded back with a pained grimace. He swung his head around at Rattrap and shouted, "Run!"
"But you-!"
"There's no time, rodent! GO!"
Rattrap visibly hesitated, and at any other time the soldier would have been heartened by the rare loyalty being shown by his usual rival. Right now, however, he could have easily kicked the idiot right in the oversized teeth to send him on his way, if he could just get to his slagging feet-!
There was a high-pitched whine and Dinobot had time to think; Not again-! when the pod whirled, releasing a pressure wave of white energy that radiated outwards like a solar flare. It engulfed the two Maximals and seconds later reached Terrorsaur as he tried to escape. There was no avoiding this weapon, purposely designed to act like an electromagnetic pulse and disable anything electronic for a radius of over 200 feet. All three robots dropped like stones, screaming, their bodies contorting in agony as white fire burst from their optics and mouths. Successfully immobilizing them, the probe shot out three energy pulses that encircled their contorted forms.
All three disappeared.
Optimus and Rhinox watched helplessly as the two Maximal insignia's disappeared from the topography map. A few seconds after that, the sensor reading from the entire area went offline as the alien energy wave affected the signal.
His fingers digging into the tabletop, Optimus squeezed his eyes shut. "Rattrap... Dinobot- SLAGGIT!" he pounded the controls in futility.
Rhinox put a calming hand on the younger commander's shoulder. "The last time it happened, Dinobot was able to be repaired. And you were returned safe and sound. Remember? Consider that before you do anything rash."
Optimus tried to remember his alien abduction and always came back with thoughts of being trapped in a void. It was all he could recall. Just all-encompassing blackness. He had surrendered to it, hoping, praying, that whatever force studying him would realize that he wasn't a threat and return him safely. It had actually worked.
But now they had Dinobot and Rattrap in their grasp, and surrender was in neither of their vocabularies.
"Do you still have the device you made that day?" Optimus asked him desperately.
The large scientist looked at him in surprise. "Well, yeah. But... I never got the chance to see if it actually worked!"
"It looks like you're going to get that chance. Go find it," he said and when Rhinox ran off the bridge, Optimus tried to pull up an image of the Predacon ship. No good. Megatron had jamming towers arranged all around the perimeter of their territory, making sensor sweeps impossible. There was no telling if Megatron's forces were mobilized or scattered like his own. He figured the former more likely and his worry intensified.
"Cheetor, come in." One by one, he ordered the other Maximals to return to base, offering no explanations. There was enough time for that later. Right now, he just wanted all possible crewmembers on board as quickly as possible before Megatron made his move.
Whatever it might be.
Unlike Optimus Primal, his Predacon counterpart cared nothing about scientific exploration of this miserable planet, or sending out valuable forces to execute meaningless patrols. Megatron liked his subordinates just where they were: under his thumb and ready to strike at a moment's notice. And that was just what he was planning right now.
He had watched everything transmitted from the videocam imbedded in Terrorsaur's left optic right up to the moment the probe attacked. The fact that he had lost one of his Flyers caused him little concern. Collateral damage. At least the fool had actually succeeded in his mission. With the rat and the turncoat both offline he now had a huge tactical advantage.
Victors do not spurn opportunity.
It had been one of Dinobot's favorite sayings. Before. Megatron's face tightened up at the mere memory of his former second-in-command. On the rare times when he allowed himself to think of the first time they ever met, he privately wished that he had never crossed paths with the willful son-of-a-bot. He should have selected someone else as a member of his crew on that fateful day. Oh Yes.
Not necessarily loyal, certainly not a friend by any stretch of the imagination, but the soldier had been intelligent and shrewd. Most importantly, Megatron could never successfully intimidate him into changing his opinion, once he made one. It had allowed for some... memorable debates between them. By the end of which, Megatron would eventually see the other side to the argument (even if he rarely let it influence him). There had been a great deal of animosity between them but, despite himself, the huge Predacon had come to rely on the soldier's keen insight and careful strategizing. But now-! Megatron found himself surrounded by a crew of terrified lackeys that were absolutely no help in the decision-making process. It was no wonder why he kept encountering these embarrassing setbacks (his enormous ego refused to consider them defeats). He was the one having to do all of the blasted thinking!
Giving his head an irritated shake, Megatron got back to the matter at hand. Bringing one huge fist down on the arm of his immense throne-like control chair, he bellowed into his communicator. "All Predacons! Prepare to attack the Maximal base!"
Seated once more in the center of its charred circle, the alien probe remained still, humming in a low, barely perceivable tone as it processed some unknown data. It had started to snow heavily in the deserted area. Heavy white flakes began to cover up the blast marks of the battle that had only occurred a few moments before, creating an eerie hush in the air. There was no trace of life or activity, all was silent, and then a cold voice projected loudly:
"!!SCANNING: ...
UNIT SERIAL CODE: 9Z07Q-L1
PERSONAL IDENT: Spycraft
CALL SIGNS: Terrorsaur (IDENT: Current), Velocity.
FACTION: Predacon
GENDER: Male
HOMEBASE: Kaon Capital, Cybertron
DESIGNATION: Aviation Model
SPECIALIZATION: Long Range Surveillance / Combat
MILITARY RANK: Epsilon Class (Low)
SECURITY LEVEL: 4 (Low)
ASSIGNMENT: A-Class Transwarp Reaper / IDENT: Darkside
COMMANDING OFFICER: 9H45D-J6 (IDENT: Megatron)
MISSION: Classified
CURRENT STATUS???
SCANNING: ...
RESULT: Unit Terrorsaur is not a significant subject worth engaging in further study."
The opaque gold covering of the probe retracted just enough to jettison out Terrorsaur's still form with no delicacy. The Predacon was ejected far beyond the limits of the crater and he landed in a heap, without rousing. The snow fell on his body and began to quickly cover it in a delicate blanket.
The orifice on the probe drew closed.
The probe began to hum louder.
"!!SCANNING: ..." it bellowed again.
Part Two: Dinobot learns the reasons behind Rattrap's hatred of the Predacons.