Beast Wars and all related belong to Hasbro. The story, its original contents and ideas, and any original characters belong to the author and cannot be used or reprinted without the author's permission.

Disclaimer: No money, no rights, no life. I own all original characters unless otherwise specified.

Dedications: Like usual, the story is dedicated to the writers for their excellent work. It's also dedicated to all the voice actors, especially David Sobolov and Campbell Lane, for bringing these wonderful characters (especially my favorites) to life. As well as the writers of Beast Wars, it's also for the people I love in hopes that this will show that one day I can do something better.

Author's Note: Once again, I've updated the first chapter, so hopefully it makes more sense now.

Epoch:
Dark Wings
Joshin Yasha (joshinyasha yahoo dot com)


Faking everything. It's what any civilized person in the universe will say is the most unflattering emote. Cybertronians were no exception to this, especially since the Great War had entangled many races in the war for Cybertron. And, naturally, the Decepticons had become so feared and respected for their ability to lead others by the nose, that even the most obscure species knew to fear them. This had been the image the Maximal High Council had tried to erase from the memories of the universe. The task had been almost too easy since the Decepticons had lost the war and either gone into hiding or resigned to the Allspark. As three-hundred years would allow, almost all of the other species in the universe had forgotten the Decepticons.

For Xyston, however, the High Council had to take a different approach. What he had been was something that could not be easily undone. Not when the memory of him lingered in too many of the Decepticons. And Autobots for that matter.

The plan had been successful in implementation, but they had not accounted for the reinforcements that had been there in the end. What the High Council had accomplished, however, was to strip him of everything that he had been. Now, whether he knew it or not, he lay in hiding from both sides.

That had been Misery's doing.

Both were flatmates living in one of the many caverns below Canyon Floor, and per Misery's careful guidance, the new, naïve Xyston had been carrying out a civilian life working as a scientist for the local TRUNDLE branch. Currently, the gold and red Maximal sat typing at his computer, his massive body taking up most of the space from floor to ceiling, even while sitting. His current assignment had been to assess the account balance and expenditures after TRUNDLE's last, unsuccessful project to isolate a code that would replicate the energy weapons of the Great War.

He was a pacifist by nature, and could not understand why TRUNDLE was doing weapons research in a time of peace, but he was also practical enough to not question his superiors. And while he did not agree with the research, he was not above remote accessing his work terminal in order to complete the analysis that he had been able to finish earlier that day. Xyston was also awaiting the return of Misery to the flat, as she had promised to bring him something to celebrate –in her own way—their ten stellar cycle anniversary of living together.

A clatter outside, and he was all eyes towards the door. Without looking away, Xyston pressed a key to lock down his computer. Living with Misery had made him paranoid for every sound, and he knew Misery never made a commotion outside the flat if she could help it. The longer he stood waiting, the better he could hear the voices of two passersby outside, on their way out of the caverns of the Canyon Floor by the sound of it. The red and gold Maximal released the breath he had been holding, and in the next moment he was startled by the door announcing the entrance of a black and blue Decepticon.

She quietly stared at him in return, balancing a crate almost half her size on her shoulder with another case under her other arm. "Hail, fellow." She refused to use his name, like always, when the door was opened to the world of Cybertron.

Once the door slid closed behind her, he returned her greeting. "Misery, I wasn't expecting you until later."

"Mm, I completed my business sooner than expected," like some sort of predator, she crossed the room, golden-blue eyes dead set on watching him. It was a habit she had never dropped when alone in a room with a potential threat. Xyston never understood that, either. In the ten stellar cycles they had lived together, he had never once shown her ill will to warrant such a response. Nevertheless, he overlooked it as she sat the large case down on his desk, and the other upon the floor.

He knew better than to ask how her day went, or what her business had been. Xyston had learned enough times before that she would never tell, and the way had begun to view it was that the less he knew, the better. "I have your present for you in my quarters, if you give me a moment, I'll fetch it."

Misery nodded to him, and he disappeared down the hallway and into his personal quarters. For a moment, she contemplated the barren room before turning away and vanishing into her own quarters. Seconds later, Xyston returned to the room in time to blankly stare at her closing door. The red and gold Maximal sighed, shook his helm, and then remembered the large case upon his desk. Turning it without lifting, Xyston inspected the numeric lock on the case before punching in what he believed would be the code. Of course, he was correct in his presumption, and the lid opened with a hiss.

Inside the case laid a perfectly kept purple and black tri-barrel cannon. Xyston heard a rattling at the door, but when he turned back and scanned the area, there was nothing to be found. He returned his attentions to the cannon in his space, swallowing hard when he heard the door rattling again, only to realize it was in his head. There was something oddly familiar about that cannon, and it was enough to cause him to slam the lid shut. Shaking his helm once again, he returned to the opposite side of his desk and slid the case underneath, noticing somewhere haphazardly in between that the other case was gone, most likely with Misery in her room.

"Easy, Xyston," he whispered aloud, relaxing into his chair before reconnecting his remote connection with his work computer. He clicked back into the system, accessing the accounts, and tried to remain focused. "Huh? What's this?" he leaned in, inspected the line of data, and curiously scrolled through the material. "It's a phantom file," the red and gold male leaned in further, optics darting back and forth as he memorized the data. It should not have been in the computer, and for what it was, he should not have been able to access. Xyston, although suspicious of the file's readability, continued to skim the financial record for a project labeled "Protoform."

Nevertheless, he never shook the feeling that someone wanted him specifically to see the file.

~"How's our propriety?"~ a red and black male asked via the monitor in Misery's quarters. Beside him, a silver, gold, and blue male sat idly.

"Oblivious," she replied, punching a code into a separate monitor. "He still has no recollection of his former glory."

~"Aye, but while he is oblivious, we mourn how we have fallen, dearest sister,"~ the silver and gold one spoke, looking over his pauldron to finally face her. ~"I hate to say it, but we can't let him sit vulnerable to the Council for much longer. Taciturn's doing all he can to keep them from finding you as it is."~

"Do not presume that I do not understand the risks. It is difficult to persuade him to leave Cybertron, but even riskier to leave in fact. Documentation will be almost impossible to get us through legally." Misery looked a question to the monitor containing the images of the two Decepticon males. "Stricture, I want you to keep running interference on Xyston's computer. I have reason to believe he is using it to remote connect to his work computer."

~"Slot, not going to make it easy for me, are you?"~ the silver and gold Decepticon, Stricture, winked a devious suggestive look in her direction.

"You would not try as hard otherwise," she replied, then cut the transmission. Misery never took the time to recline and rest, but instead gathered her weapons and stored them on her person. She was out the door before Xyston could even raise his helm from his work. He called to her, most likely intending to deliver his gift to her, a gift he should have known she would not accept. "What is it, Xyston?"

He wanted to ask why she had disappeared, but instead wrapped his mind around the question he knew he should ask of her. "Is it loaded?"

"Yes," she replied, then opened and shut the door behind her. The black and blue Decepticon made her way through the caverns of the Canyon Floor, working her way through the lower levels of Cybertron. The lower levels of Cybertron were dark, wet, and claustrophobic to those who were accustomed to the surface. Misery, on the other hand, had enjoyed the caverns (as the lurkers referred to them) with an unquenchable excitement. She had been raised as a warrior and taught to expect everything behind each corner. So, would not it be normal for her to find some enjoyment in a home she had known for over ten million years?

Lights flickered and swayed from above while leaks drenched the walls and center of the caverns. There were those who were about, selling minute trinkets and things of grandeur. Of all the venders, the one Misery looked for quite often was not set up in the streets, but located within safe walls.

A purple numeral marked the doorway that Misery wanted. Chimes announced her arrival, and the surly, bulky green and black dealer behind the counter glanced towards her. His one good optic was fixated on a rare stone in his hand. His other microscopic attachment for an optic zoomed in to snare Misery in his sight. "Well, well, what can I do for you this time?"

"I require adamantium steel -four kilos," she made her way towards the counter and placed three payment cards in his hand. "And twenty plasma charge boxes."

He inspected the credits before storing them into his subspace. "I was beginning to wonder what the extra pay was for." The bot motioned her around the counter and he pressed a switch in the wall. A panel retracted and allowed them entrance.

The room they entered may have appeared small, but that was only illusion created by the large number of ammunition crates that cluttered the floor. The dealer picked up a crate and placed it onto a mobile transporter. "There's your plasma boxes . . . I threw in an extra twenty."

She glared at him, wary of his random omission of kindness. "I only require twenty."

"Yeah, well, you're my best customer. Besides, these things come in crates of forty and you overpaid the last time you were here. I don't want you holding it against me later, like I know you had planned." A controller on the back of his hand became lit and he guided the transporter to the next storage room where Misery followed him.

She did not hesitate to follow him when he piled the last bit of adamantium onto the transporter. "It's no problem, gal. So, when do you want to meet me for the disguised shipment?"

"The usual time. Two days from tomorrow evening."

She nodded to him and he smiled back, "Always a pleasure to help a fellow Decep—Predacon." Dealer corrected himself, then placed his hands on the transport and gave it an extra shove into another separate chamber.

Misery took her cue, and headed back for the entrance. When she arrived there, she pressed the button on the wall, and the passage way sealed. As Misery was heading for the door, it opened, and a stranger pattered in and closed the door behind him. Misery took quick note that he was blocking her path. "You are in my way."

If he had a face, she could not see it, but from the tone of his deep voice he had to have been smirking. "As you're in mine."

"Move," she ordered, drawing a handgun.

"Now, now, none of that," he raised his hand, palm upward, and narrowed his eyes.

All metal surfaces that were not bolted down began to jitter uncontrollably. Only Misery and the stranger remained untouched. Misery's handgun, on the other hand, flew from her grasp and landed in his. "Magneticus," she narrowed her eyes.

He had an EMP generator. "Indeed," he still held the smirk in his words, "I possess a magnetic field which I can control with no limits."

"What do you want?" she inquired, placing her hands behind her back.

"No, no," he shook his head, "that would be telling. It's not really a matter of what I want, but more a matter of who they want."

"Do not waste my time," she began waving her hand through the air as if trying to disperse him.

"Then whose should I waste? Hm?" he approached her, trying to use his size as an intimidation. Misery was unimpressed. "I've heard of you, Misery. I've been watching you for a long time."

She cocked her head to the side and kept her face blank of emotion, "Hm, can you not acquire a girlfriend by other methods?"

This time he laughed. He was smart enough to taunt her from a distance, but not wise enough to know she had an extra weapon ready to pull if it was in need. "Girlfriends mean nothing to me. Boyfriends, on the other hand, are of an interest. Especially ones who are nosy."

Misery continued to play his game, suspicious of what his intentions were. "Whichever way you swing," she guessed he was buying time for something else, and Primus be on her side if she was correct in thinking he and his allies were after Xyston. Misery fleetingly wondered if the Maximal High Council had finally found them. "Why are you here?"

"I don't understand your question. Elucidate," he narrowed his yellow optics.

"Who sent you to distract me?" she changed the wording, but her hidden meaning was still there.

"As I said before, that would be telling, now, wouldn't it?" he glanced at her arm which was still behind her back. "What are you hiding from me?"

She shook her head. "Evasive."

"Thanks for noticing," he smiled, and drew closer to her. It took him a moment to focus and sort what had happened. The gaping hole was the first thing on his list, and then followed by the heavy amount of pain. Misery's arm was straight in line with the hole in his chest. His eyes fell into focus on the second handgun, and then his optics began to short. "Smelt . . ."

The body fell quite suddenly, and Misery reclaimed her first handgun from him. She did a quick check and was pleased to find that his magnetic power had not damaged it in any way. Sliding his body from the doorway, she holstered her weapons and made her exit.

This stranger's presence did not ease her mind, nor did the fact that Dealer had given her a gift and she had left a mess for him to clean up. Unfortunately, she could not ponder on the small things. This stranger had been sent to distract her for a reason.

Trickles of liquid dripped on her shoulders as she passed through a cavern that had cracks in the ceiling. It did nothing to distract her, but did give her an analogy. 'One small crack can lead to bigger leaks.' And it was then that her thoughts wondered back Xyston. Could it be possible that the Council had indeed finally found him?

She took off in full run, not caring for who she knocked out of her way. Time was precious if she was correct, and most certainly, she was. The puddles did little to stop her aside from a few slides here and there, but the main problem lied in how thick the crowds were beginning to get.

"Move!" she ordered as bots moved in front of her, trying to make their way through the tunnels. "I said move!" she screamed again, trying desperately to reach her destination. Misery slammed into a larger bot that refused to make way for her. Her momentum and size forced them both to go rolling through the crowd.

"Hey, you lousy witch!" he yelled at her, keeping a firm grip on her wrist. "Didn't anyone teach you manners?"

She drew her weapon and held it point blank to his face. "Unless you wish to be searching this crowd for your head you will let go of me," she accented her last words and he complied, raising his hands up in defense. Misery narrowed her golden blue optics and made the quick comparison. Stranger and Blocker both looked alike. Too alike to be coincidence.

She shot his head clean from his body.

The crowd roared in fear and scattered in all directions. Misery raised her gun high and fired a large chunk from the ceiling. "Anyone who does not wish to get hurt will clear a path," she commanded. Leave it to the group of fearful bots and femmes to make it more hectic.

As the crowd parted for her, Misery stepped forward and left the headless bot to tumble across the street after his cranium. At the commotion, two Security Patrols exited the doorway of a nearby tavern. "Drop your weapon!" one of them ordered, drawing his own.

He and his partner had just enough time to dive for cover as the top of the doorframe rained down on them. "Slag!" the other muttered, spitting out dust and drawing his gunblade.

Misery's taloned foot pinned his weapon to the ground before he could fully raise it. "I am in no mood. You are in no mood. Let us leave it at that," she drew her foot back and kicked his weapon away into the drain. She felt the urge to cringe as a shot narrowly missed her own head. Warning shot, she deduced.

"Put your weapon down, or I promise the next shot will not miss," the other guard ordered, using both hands to keep his weapon trained on her.

Turning her entire body to face him, she scowled and jumped to the air just as he fired. Her body shifted and contorted until her form became a space mobile craft. Misery had no time to spare, and she knew it. Time was turning against her and she knew she had to be right.

Her space craft form maneuvered swiftly through the caverns until she reached the smaller tunnels that forced her to transform back to robot. When she landed was another matter; the leakage here was worse, so it caused her to fall on her skidplate and tumble down the stairwell.

She hit bottom with a solid crash into the wall and it took seconds before Misery remembered what she was after. Jumping back to her feet, she grabbed a bar for support. The Decepticon female carefully used the bar to help herself across the slick tarmac.

Her feet slipped out from under her and she lost her grip on the bar. Instead of letting this trivial thing defeat her, she did one of the most degrading things she knew and crawled for the higher platforms. It was despicable, and she loathed every moment of the experience. Her, a Decepticon, crawling—it was unheard of.

Once she was out of the deep liquid, she swung herself up and latched her feet onto the support beams. Using the ceiling, she hovered over the leakage until she had reached a dry section to drop down onto. It was then that she continued in her run.

When Misery reached the second stairwell, she was ready to avoid the leaks that had already drenched the stairwell. She took a quick jump, spread her legs, and landed on the pole handles on either side and slid all the way down. As she reached the bottom, she pulled her legs together and landed perfectly straight in a small puddle. This time she did not tumble, however.

She continued down the long corridor, halting whenever she reached the doorway she wanted. Misery punched the code and blinked in relief when she saw the room was orderly and in good keep. Not only that, but Xyston glanced up at her and gave her a puzzled look. "Misery, you look . . . excited. Something wrong?" Misery splayed herself against the doorframe, breathing heavily and giving slow blinks as she tried to slow her spark beat. "What's wrong?" the larger bot inquired, raising from his desk of scattered reports.

She still continued to breath heavily, but she cut herself off when what she had expected to happen, happened. Xyston dropped to his knees in time to catch her, and rolled with her behind his desk. As he inspected her backside, sparks flew from between her wings, a large singe covering most of her back.

"Thanks for the help," six bots crowded into the entrance way of the flat, weapons drawn and trained on the two as they peered over the desk. "Too bad your friend couldn't stay away, Xyston. Misery led us right to you," the leader smirked.

"Default, is that you?" Xyston stared, confused at the sight of the security guard from his department. He ducked another shot from Default and his men, covering Misery with his own body. It was difficult to tell if they were firing due to the silenced guns they were using –they were resigned to watching the pings of bullets as they buried themselves into the walls. The bots were simply showering the room with gun fire, and while the desk would hold for some time due to its size, Xyston knew it was only a matter of one carefully placed missile that would destroy it. The Maximal glanced down once more to Misery, and noted that she was gradually recovering. "What's going on?" he whispered to her as more gun fire rained over their heads, into the walls, and into the desk.

Misery looked up at him, pain searing through her backside with every movement she made. Her response was rushed, but it was more the gunfire that caused her to pause in between words. "They are after you . . . And I can only think it is . . . because you must know something from your position . . . More will arrive soon."

He held her close to him, still using his massive form to protect her from the barrage. "How do you know?"

"It is what I would do . . . These are just the cannon fodder."

"What do you want me to do?" Xyston asked, picking one of Misery's guns from her hand to shoot a warning shot at one of the bots who had tried to round the corner. He disappeared almost immediately, and the gunfire started once more.

"Either we kill these now and await the others, or we allow their reinforcements to arrive and kill them all at once." She tried to make it to her knees, but the gunfire from the others kept her low to the ground. "You must assist me, Xyston. I cannot fight them to the best of my ability."

He nodded and understood, and although he was not entirely sure why, Xyston found himself reaching under the desk. The metal of the case was surreal to him, and as he slid it towards the two of them he felt what he could only describe as a mental key being fit into a lock. And although it wasn't the right key—not yet anyway—it still jiggled the door enough to let him know it was there. "Will this be enough?" he asked, something darker settling in behind his cerulean optics, turning them almost teal.

Misery paused, watching the lines of bullets passing above their helms. "It will have to be." She matched his teal stained optics, and could feel his impending question wavering on the air. Although she would never admit they were friends, Misery did the next best thing. She winced while opening the case, removed the canon, and placed it firmly in his grip. Again, there was that darkness in his eyes, and the Decepticon female could feel the hardness setting into his jaw. The Xyston she remembered leered back at her for a brief moment. "Remember, the gun is loaded with twenty-seven rounds. Let us hope you only require three."

"Misery . . ." he whispered, digits tightening around the grip.

She looked up into his eyes and understood he still had some restraint, but if she could push him hard enough now, Misery might be able to gain what she lost. However, the situation they were currently in had created a precedent that could not be ignored. "Release the safety and shoot," she ordered, and Xyston did as told. When there was a gap in the gunfire, Xyston stood on his knees briefly and fired three rounds. The missiles surged towards the six bots and two connected with the walls while the third hit one of them in the shoulder. The blast was enough to kill him, while the wall behind another collapsed and buried him. Concussion missiles had that effect on bots.

After the missiles had exploded, however, the ceiling had begun to cave in and the shrapnel ensnared a third enemy, knocking him to the floor. The leader turned, and anger flashing across his face as he fired another shot towards the two flat mates. This time, Default's shot connected with Xyston's pauldron and he went down spinning from the force of the blast.

The Maximal looked to his friend and she nodded. It was her turn, now, and she intended to make Default pay for that one. With the pain still running through her back, but dulling to a steady hum, she rose to her knees, steadied her arms upon the desk, and fired six shots towards the leader. He dodged just before the shots had connected, but the bot standing behind him was an entirely other matter. The optics of the other bot widened as far as allowed, and his body jerked backwards as the shots connected with his upper body and face. He was dead before he hit the ground, and Misery and Xyston utilized the momentary distraction to cover themselves once more behind the desk as Default and his last partner retaliated.

"Xyston," Misery grabbed at his wounded shoulder and pulled him close to her, digging her dactyls into him. He roared with the surge of pain, and glared at her, anger in his optics like he'd never known before. "You remember pain. You must now remember how to inflict it." Misery dug her fingers deeper and elicited a feral growl that came with glowing jade optics. "Make these two know pain."

With the release of her hand he arose with a guttural ululation that left Default and his partner pausing. The Xyston standing before them was not the same bot they had known at the TRUNDLE facility to be a naïve fool. In fact, this was almost a completely different person, or beast for that matter. The gold and red male then charged at them, leaving his cannon to drop to the floor behind him. Default might have been startled, but he began firing once more, which enticed his partner as well.

Xyston, acting on impulse, discovered something as he dodged bullets. A new key tried to jiggle the locked door in his mind, and the closer he drew to the two the more he realized they were no longer shooting directly at him, but instead slightly behind him. The Maximal felt his own perception of space sharpen in areas and blur in others, and it was enough to allow him to get close enough to Default. Lunging, the bot drove his hand through the other's chest, and possessed by the nature of a wild dog on a leash, he broke the restraint he might normally have and drilled his fingers into Default's spark.

Electrifying spark energy pulsed into his hand and up his arm. It sent shivers down Xyston's back, and into two shell covered reservoirs. Despite the haze around his optics, the Maximal managed to set sharply focused eyes upon the final remaining bot. "Ghost!" the other cried, dropping his weapon and pivoted on his heels and out the door. Xyston darted after him, almost dropping to all fours as he rounded the door and pounced the other.

Misery was left to her own devices in the flat, and carefully she drew herself to her feet, holding one of her guns out in search of any approaching enemies. If she were correct, which she knew she would eventually be, there would be more. No one sends minions as the only guarantee to retrieve things without a contingency plan. Of course, the Decepticon female also had her worries that Xyston would lose his nerve soon. But if the screams she was hearing from the corridor were any indication, Xyston might be salvageable.

The jiggling of keys was getting to be too much, but for Misery the jiggling was more like an incessant . . . ticking! "Xyston!" she shrieked.

Xyston huffed it around the corner, silvery mech fluid staining his upper body and hands. The blue of his optics had returned, and his face slackened as he began panting. "Misery?"

"Bomb," simultaneously exterior lenses covered their optics, and they began scanning the room. There had not been enough time for the reinforcements to slip in undetected, and Misery had not seen anyone, so it must have been placed while the others were in the room shooting.

"But do bombs actually tick?" he inquired, still searching the room for any indication.

The look that plastered itself to Misery's face said clearly that she had made a mistake. "No." But the distraction all on its own had been enough. An explosion and shockwave erupted between them before Misery had had the chance to turn. Both were knocked into the opposite walls, and ceiling rained down on them from the force. They were lucky the rest of the cavern did not collapse. After all that work they had done to save themselves, the shockwave of new enemies had gotten the better of them.

Their backs were embedded into the remains of the walls, and after several nanoclicks, they both slipped and dropped to their knees. Xyston, who had been closer to the blast, was now more damaged than he had been, and he was nearing stasis lock.

"Heh, heh, hee! Look at how quick they fall," four bots stalked into the room. The leader looked between the two fallen warriors. "Pick that up," he pointed to Xyston and two of his subordinates approached the fallen scientist.

"You . . ." Misery made it slowly to her feet. "You will not . . . touch him . . ." Her final movements were enough to make her strength give out. She dropped back to her knees and white noise filled her audios.

She locked her eyes with Xyston, and what needed to be said was already understood. Barely, she could hear the orders the other was barking, but that was when the black took her.