Author's Note: I know I promised myself to write for something other than Beast Wars, but I just couldn't leave Isis and Taratron. I love them too much, and I have a few more stories to tell. There are several things to be told about how the cold Predacon warrior we know took in a little Maximal girl who grew up to be the femme fatal of the Beast Wars. So enjoy, and I really need feedback on this since this is a third story for me about Isis and as we all know working with the same set of characters for a long time doesn't always lead to good stories.

An Angel Born In Hell

By: Silver Spider

Prologue

Prehistoric Earth,

Fog wavered around the dark form in the middle of the floor. He sat with his legs crossed, optics shut off, and hands folded in his lap. Meditation was an important part of his training, no matter how it looked to everyone else. Suddenly the fog shifted as the door to the outside world slid open and a breeze of fresh air flew through the closed off chamber.

The dark abyss of the warrior's optics swelled with emerald light as he let out a deep growl, displeased that someone dared to interrupt his training. His anger subsided when a crystal clear laugh rang through the room, bouncing off the walls.

"Easy, Taratron," the beautiful owner of the voice emerged from the fog. "It's me." The female smiled and sat down across from him, holding a small object in her hands and settling it in her lap. Despite his annoyance at the interruption, the raptor actually returned the smile.

She had returned to calling him by his true name, which ment he had to explain what was going on to everyone else, especially Optimus. The Maimal leader was not happy to say the least. Taratron was very important in the Maximal army, and to learn that he had been a Predacon undercover was not a good thing. It ended with sevear questioning and lectures from Primal, and an argument with Rattrap, which he had quite enjoyed. Upon being asked about the sudden name change, Blackarachnia had laughed and replayed, "You wouldn't want me to call you 'big brother' again, now would you?"

"Yes, little sister?" Of coarse it was only fair. He had returned to calling her by her birth name as well, though in privet the titles 'little sister' and 'child' often came up. She'd pointed out how glad she was that she never had to live through 'kid' or any other degrading names Cheetor had to engure.

"I wanted to give this back to you," she handed him the holo-projector, the one that held the image of her childhood. "You must want it back."

Dinobot took it from her and fliped it through his claws then shook his hed and handed it back. "No, you keep it, little sister. You need the memories more than I do."