The Same
I was still mulling on the conversation- on the fight – we had this morning. Rattrap had said "better dead than Pred," once too often and I snapped. I told him Maximals were no better, with their mealy mouthed ways and secret experiments. I asked him did he think all Predacons were like Megatron and his renegades? That Predacons did not experience much of the same things Maximals did? Predacons have a different context and different modes of expression, I said, but even to Rattrap's uneducated optics they cannot be that foreign.
"Exactly," is what Optimus said, "Fundamentally, despite their programming, both Maximals and Predacons are the same. They're bots."
But that is not what I meant at all.
They don't understand. And how can they, when I refrain from explaining? I tell myself it is because they are irritating. Annoying. Hypocritical even. Maximal ideology is full of holes. Predacon ideals are not the solution either, but they're a way. A way to get to…somewhere.
Maximals would have Predacons and Maximals locked in an almost insufferable status quo. Where they smile and treat us as beings with rights. And then look away when their system cheats us of those same rights.
Conquests. What do Maximals know of them? Ironic, considering how fully conquered we are under their regime. Yet like I say, they do not understand.
I could change my vocabulary to match theirs. But I refuse. I may have temporarily altered my allegiance. But my entire being? Never.
They are explorers, they say. Going on exploratory missions. Looking down a little bit, on my faction and my inclinations. Talking about it condescendingly. Like Predacons are the ones who don't get it.
"Hey, Dinobot. Can I ask you something?" asks Cheetor. He is trodding alongside me in his beast mode. Containers to carry specimens are strapped on his back. "I suppose." I reply, trying not to sound too testy.
"Why do Predacons want to conquer everything?"
Optimus looks at him warily. He is leading us towards a spot he and Rhinox had marked earlier for specimen collection. He continues on and we follow as I consider the question.
"We do not submit to another's rule. Rule belongs to those who can best rule." I say, then after a pause I add, "That is what the Predacons' think. Though I am now a Maximal, you must know that I too, am for the glory of the conquest."
Cheetor's feline nose turns up. "but why?"
Why, Cheetor? Your forbears fought hard enough for it. They termed it a fight for liberty, a fight fro democracy, but the Maximal Elders do not govern as a democracy. They hide things, manipulate events. This is so well know it was discussed in bars, on news shows, in the streets of Cybertron.
We reach the place. There are tiny flowers here, Rhinox had said, which showed interesting pollination techniques. Optimus bent over to see one closely.
"Maximals don't believe in those things, Dinobot." He said primly. I wonder if I was ever that young.
"Enough, you two." Optimus says vaguely. His optics are focused on the flowers. On the new terrain, unseen by Cybertronians.
The glory of the conquest. I see it gleaming in his optics, his fingers moving to uproot the defenseless plant from it's home.
And I realize that they were right. We are not so different.