The Draconian Saga

by Xavier

An in-depth, interesting story that makes the reader think. The fast-paced chapters are riddled with subplots inside the subplots.

3. A Spark's Secret

A SPARK'S SECRET (1 of 3): The Beginning

By: Xavier (xavier319@hotmail.com)

Tarantulas looks around his lair with thinly veiled contempt. Humph! Hardly a worthy lair! complains the transmetal spider to himself as he gazes at the scanner aray he had set up. The lair is a small underground cavern filled from wall-to-wall with different sets of equipment, instruments, and half-done experiments.

Tarantulas transforms into beast mode and scurries out of the cave, looking expectantly at his webs. Nothing! curses the spider vehemently, gouging clumps of dirt up with his two forelegs. He whirls and begins stalking back toward his 'lair' when his comlink crackles to life.

"Tarantulas! Report to me immediately!"

Tarantulas rolls his eight eyes skyward and replies. "At once mighty Megatron! Tarantulas out." He transforms into his vehicle mode and screams off toward the Darkseid.

* * *

Megatron leans back in his throne, and sighs. What is that spider up to now? Oh well, enough time to think of that later. Now, to business!

Megatron presses the 'all call' button on the arm of his throne. "Inferno! Waspinator! Report to me immediately! I have a job for you!"

Megatron waits for the two Predacons to appear before him. Inferno enters first, flying quickly through the halls of the Predacon ship waving his flamethrower over his head.

"I have come my Queen!" exclaims the mixed-up warrior, as he bows deeply.

Megatron coughs and shifts in his seat, "Um, ah, yes. Yes, uh, so you have. Well, where is Waspinator?"

Before Inferno can answer, a loud buzzing noise fills the room as Waspinator flies erratically in. "Wazzzzzpinator reporting for duty Megatron!"

Megatron regains his composure and looks at the two Predacons squarely. "You two will scout out sector Zigon, I have been detecting strange energy signatures there. Report to me if you find anything. Now go!"

Inferno salutes quickly, bashing himself in the head with his flamethrower in the process. Megatron sighs and places his head in his hand. Why are the loyal ones always so stupid? The ant recovers and flies out of the roof hatch laughing madly.

Waspinator looks at the T-Rex as he flies after Inferno, "Don't worry, Megatron. Wazzzzzpinator will keep eye on Ant-Bot!"

Megatron closes the roof hatch after them and sighs again. Why, thank you Waspinator. That makes me feel much better! He sits up with a jerk and checks his scanners, remembering something. Tarantulas is nowhere to be found. "Blast!" exclaims the Predacon leader, slamming his fist on the arm of his throne, "Where is that treacherous spider?"

"Right here Megatron! Hehehehehehehehehehe!"

Megatron spins around and comes face-to-face with the giggling Tarantulas. "Where have you been?" bellows the huge Predacon.

Tarantulas doesn't even flinch and replies smoothly, "Why, I've been on my way here, mighty Megatron!"

Megatron visibly struggles to get his temper under control and replies, his voice saturated with sarcasm. "Of course you have. Now, I have a job for you . . . "

* * *

A mosquito drones lazily through the midmorning air, content to just be alive. Its happiness is cut short, however, when a large brown bat swoops out of the sky and snatches the insect in its mouth.

"Yum! Now that's good eatin'!" exclaims the bat in a husky voice as it lands somewhat clumsily at the mouth of a cave. "Slag! Why can't I get that landing thing right? Oh, well. Screech, maximize!" The brown bat transforms into a small, lightly built female bot. She has a larger bust than Airazor, but smaller that Black Arachnia's. Her beast mode's fur is spread evenly over her entire body as if she just enlarged from the inside, and her metallic parts are all gold. Her bat's wings are enlarged and still resting on her shoulder blades, and she has shoulder cannons (like Terasaur's, only slightly smaller). She has a proportional head with a small helmet that has small fins on either side. She has a small nose, a naturally 'smirky' mouth, and large purple optics.

She smiles, showing large, pointed vampire-like fangs. "Now this is more like it! No more clumsy landings in this form!" Now to go over what I've learned through my reconnaissance missions. she thinks to herself. From what I've seen, the fox and the wolf are at odds with both of the other sides. And the group by the lava fields are all Predacons. So, it's off to the only other option, the Maximals.

Screech sighs and propels herself toward the Axalon with powerful wing beats. Ever since my pod crashed on this crazy planet, I've been trying to figure out what's going on. Maximals fighting Predacons? Last time I checked, they had a truce! Oh well, things change, and if this is a war... That means a job for me!

* * *

Rattrap lounges in one of the control chairs in the Axalon's main command room, polishing his gun. Just one shot at either of those traitors, that's all I need. Just one shot! he thinks to himself as he dips the rag he is using in a pot of polish.

*BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!*

"Slag!" exclaims the diminutive Maximal as he spills half the jar on himself. "What now?" He looks at the scanners and his optics widen in surprise. "Optimus!" he screams into the comlink, "Get your banana butt up here now! And bring everyone else wid you! We got a Phantom!" A 'Phantom' is an unidentified, unregistered energy signature.

"Coming Rattrap! We'll be there in a few clicks. What's the Phantom up to?" replies the Maximal leader.

Rattrap scratches his smooth head in bewilderment, "Uh, that's the funny thing Boss Monkey. It ain't doin' nothin', it's just sittin' there!"

"Hmm. That is strange. Well, try contacting it."

"Will do, Grape Ape!" calls Rattrap as he switches off the comlink and turns to the long-range, broadband comlink. He flips on the radio and waits patiently as it hums to life.

As he's waiting, Silverbolt strides in through on of the side entrances. "I received your transmission Rattrap. Where is this Phantom?"

Rattrap turns toward the fuzor and points to a red blip on the map screen. "Right here Sir Spiffar! On the rise to the west of the ship. Why?"

"Because," replies the fuzor as he moves toward one of the lifts. "I intend to make contact and persuade this Phantom to join our cause!" He steps onto the lift and salutes Rattrap as he descends.

"Wait, wait!" he calls after the fuzor, then gives up with a wave of his hands. "Oh well, go and get yourself slagged if ya' want. Don't matter ta' me!" Rattrap sighs and turns on the outside security cameras in time to catch sight of the overeager Silverbolt flying toward the rise west of the Axalon.

* * *

Screech looks at the flying creature through the sensitive scope on her sniper's rifle. She can't decide what this thing is, whether it's a bird, a dog, or both. She knows that he's a Maximal, seeing that he came out of the Maximal's base. He is flying straight toward her, not wavering once in his flight. Man, I wish I was a good as he is at flying! It'd make things a whole hell of a lot easier! she thinks as he draws close enough to hail. "Stop right where you are, if you value your head!"

The thing flying toward her falters to a halt and hovers, pumping his wings furiously to stay aloft. Screech laughs to herself, wondering how a form could be so ill-suited for flight. The Bird-Dog looks around worriedly calling out to her. "Where are you? I mean you no harm!"

Right! laughs Screech to herself, You expect me to fall for that old trick? "Just land right where you are. And no sudden moves!" The abomination complies and drops slowly to the ground. Screech creeps slowly out of hiding, her rifle trained on the 'bot the whole time. "Now transform to robot mode and throw down your weapons!" The 'bot hesitates than transforms, pulling out some wing missiles. Normally, Screech would have blown this thing's head off at such a sudden move, but this situation isn't normal. When she sees the 'bot's face, her mouth drops open in surprise.

"F-Freefall? Is that you?" she stammers while running over to the 'bot in question. She drops her rifle and stops a meter in front of Silverbolt.

The fuzor looks at the small transformer, recognition spreading swiftly over his dog-like features. He runs up to her, laughing happily. "Broadhew! My love!" He sweeps her into his arms and swings her around, both of them laughing happily. Silverbolt clutches her close to him, never wanting to let go. She returns the embrace, burying her face in his torso plate.

Screech looks up at Silverbolt and smiles, "I thought I'd never see you again. I'm glad I was wrong." She reaches up and pulls down on the top of his chest armor, drawing his head closer. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

He looks at her perfect face and smiles. "Oh? And what's that?"

She gives him a reproving look, "This." Screech pulls his head to her own and their mouths meet in a mutual embrace. They break the kiss after a noticeable amount of time and fly back to the Axalon, hand in hand.

When they reach the shield, Silverbolt steps up. "Sentinel, stand down!"

"Acknowledged." the computer's voice replies softly as the green shield flickers then fades completely.

Screech pulls out her rifle again, and walks toward the nearest lift. "Coming love?" she calls to Silverbolt.

Silverbolt looks up and trots over to where Screech is waiting. "Sorry."

The two step onto the lift and ride slowly up into the main command room. Rattrap, Optimus, Rhinox, and Cheetor turn to see the two step off of the lift.

Optimus starts and looks the female bot over, "So, this is our Phantom?"

Silverbolt approaches the Maximal leader and bows his head. "Yes. Her name is Broadhew."

Before anyone else can respond, Cheetor runs over to Screech and offers his hand. (well, whatever those things on the ends of his arms are called) Screech puts her hand in his and he shakes it vigorously. "Hi! My name's Cheetor! Your's is Broadhew, huh? Nice name! Welcome to the Maximals!"

Screech smiles through this bombardment. "Uh, yeah. It's, uh, nice to be here. Uh, Cheetor." She gingerly pulls her hand away and turns toward Optimus and snaps to attention. She salutes crisply, "Lieutenant Broadhew of the 19^th Maximal Special Forces, sir!"

Optimus is taken aback by the sudden change in the newest Maximal. He reassesses his view of her and nods. "Hmm. It was under my impression that that particular unit was disbanded, Lieutenant."

Screech stiffens even more at this and replies coolly, "It was sir. We were disbanded in 2204 because of eighty percent casualties during a mission."

Optimus nods, "Yes, that is correct. So which position did you hold?"

Screech relaxes a little and un-slings her rifle. "I was the squad's sniper." she replies, and then hastily adds, "Sir!"

Optimus grows grave, then smiles warmly. "No need for formalities here, Lieutenant."

Screech smiles and leans on her rifle, "Please, call me Screech."

"Alright, Screech." agrees Optimus as he turns to leave. He stops as if he forgot something, and turns around. "By the way, who was the other survivor of your squad?"

Screech's smile broadens as she begins to answer. "Oh, the oth-"

She is cut off by a cough from Silverbolt. "I believe that I can answer that question, Optimus."

Optimus crosses his arms on his chest and waits.

Silverbolt snaps to attention much like Screech, and salutes. "Commander Freefall of the 19^th Maximal Special Forces, sir!"

* * *

Bane leans back in the chair in front of the scanners in his and Bazil's base. Bane hates scanner duty, almost as much as Dinobot does. He'd rather be out fighting, or at least scouting. But Bazil had said that he is a rouge element when around enemies. He said that Bane would just as soon attack a Maximal or Predacon as let them go by. Bane knows that this is true, but he refuses to admit it to himself. I'm in complete control of myself! he exclaims angrily to himself, Who's Bazil to tell me that I'm not?

Bane's monologue is cut short by the beeping of the scanner. Bane raises his optics to the screen and his mouth drops open. "Oh, slag!" exclaims the wolf as he rises and runs hastily out of the cave's mouth. The chair he was sitting in is spinning slowly, just beneath the scanner screen. The screen shows a pair of red dots moving toward the center of the screen. The center represents the cave, and the red dots, Pedacons.

* * *

Cheetor walks lazily around grid Zion, mulling over recent happenings. After it had been cleared up that Silverbolt and Screech, then called Freefall and Broadhew, were the last surviving members of the most elite special forces team on all of Cybertron, all hell had broken loose. A hail of questions and answers had flown, none in the room comprehending what any other was saying. When Optimus finally restored order, the Maximals received the biggest shocker of all, Screech and Silverbolt are in love! Of all the things Cheetor had expected to hear, this was the last.

Personally Cheetor is happy for Silverbolt and Screech, even though he barely knows them. He thinks it's great that the two found each other after all these years, after being separated and all. The two had been assigned to separate units after the disbanding of their old one. They had tried to fight the system, but to no avail. They had both coincidentally signed up for the Axalon's exploration mission in hope of beginning a new life. But the most surprising thing, is what happened with Tigatron and Airazor. They had returned just a few hours after Screech had been introduced. And upon hearing of the others' love, they had confessed their own! To the whole crew!

Cheetor shakes his head in an effort to sort out the past day's events. It didn't help. He sighs and extends the jets on either side of his torso and jumps up in the air, igniting them. Ah, flying! Cheetor had never known such bliss as flying! Nothing better to clear out the head of thoughts of love and responsibility and such. Cheetor's flight is interrupted by the beeping of his internal navigation system, "Unit Cheetor entering Draconian airspace, suggested re-charting of flight plans." (Author's note: Unless you hadn't made the connection, the Draconians are Bazil and Bane) In other words, get the hell outa' Dodge!

"Slag!" curses the transmetal to himself, "If either one of those mercs find me, I'm as good as scrapped!" Cheetor pulls a wide U-turn and begins toward Maximal territory again. I must've daydreamed my way through three sectors to get here! marvels the youngster as he worriedly scans the ground below him for any sign of the two mercenaries. The revelation that looking forward is normally better than looking down hits Cheetor like a brick, literally. The energy blast strikes the cheetah in the snout, bringing him down like a wounded duck. As he spirals toward the ground a sick, aching feeling covering his whole body as all of his joints and servos lock up. Cybervenom! thinks the cheetah as he smashes into the hard, unyielding ground and blacks out.

* * *

The sky is slightly overcast, like a bowl of poor-man's soup, stirred with every imaginable color. A lump of dirt on the ground groans and stirs slightly.

"Uhhhhhh!" The lump begins moving and turns into a brown, dirty, four-legged creature. The creature begins to slowly stumble forward and shakes what appears to be its head. "What hit me?" With the dirt missing, the lumps now has a grey, canine looking head with a white streak over one eye.

Bazil shakes the dirt off the rest of his body, and almost falls from the exertion. "Man, I really got the scrap knocked outa' me!" he exclaims weakly. While a master of subterfuge, assassination, espionage, spying, sabotage, stealth, computer programming, and hacking; Bazil is far from a master of combat. "This has to happen to me right when I tell Bane that he can't come with me! Boy, am I a victim of circumstance or what?"

"Or what." snarls a sibilant voice from behind Bazil. He spins around to find Dinobot, maximized, and waiting. "Don't even move! And if I even think your using those damn holograms of yours, I'll blow you to the Inferno!"

Bazil, who is still trying to keep his head from spinning, laughs humorlessly. "You really think I'm going to try to anything in my present condition?"

Dinobot, who's gaze never leaves the wounded Draconian, keys his comlink. "Dinobot to base, come in Axalon."

"Ehhh, what's up Chopper Face?" replies a whiny voice on the other end.

Why him? Dinobot silently asks the heavens. "Rattrap, tell Optimus to bring Airazor, Silverbolt and Screech to my coordinates." commands the raptor.

There is a snort on the other end of the line as Rattrap laughs his skid-plate off. "Ha! Who died and made you Prime?"

Dinobot resists the urge to scream as he replies with controlled civility. "Rattrap, if you don't send backup soon, a very important prisoner will escape!"

Rattrap snorts, "You sound like you've caught Unicron himself! So, who's this 'special prisoner'?"

Dinobot smiles to the comlink, "Someone that you hate even more than me!"

"Oh!" exclaims Rattrap sarcastically, "You didn't!"

Dinobot's smile broadens. "Yes, I did!"

Rattrap whoops through the comlink. "Yeehaw! Well, what're you waiting for? Bring that slaggin' merc home!"

Dinobot grows grave and snarls, "I am afraid that if I move him, he will escape. That's why I need you to send all available flyers from base to my coordinates."

"Oh, yeah. Uh, will do chopper face! Rattrap out!"

Dinobot switches off his comlink and levels his sword at the wounded 'bot. "Now, I can get my revenge for that humiliation you caused me earlier!"

Bazil tries to focus his thoughts enough to comprehend what the reptile had just said. The words swim around him like a dense fog, there, but insubstantial. The Draconian's vision blurs as he leans crazily to one side and collapses from energon loss. If... only... those... slaggin'... Preds... hadn't... shown... up... This... would... have... been... a ... good... day... thinks the fox as his world fades into darkness.

* * *

Bane trudges wearily back toward the cave, nursing a broken arm. He had come about the injury while fighting the two Predacons that were moving toward the base. Ha! I sent them packing! exclaims Bane triumphantly to himself. He looks at his damaged arm, all of the outer armor has been stripped off. The inner wiring and energon lines have been severed, and his elbow-joint is completely scrapped. But not before they left me with the bill! he continues mournfully, I guess I'll have to have Bazil patch me up again.

Bane reaches the cave mouth and stops, something's not right. He switches his optics to thermo-scan and checks for heat readings. He sees the normal heat emissions from the computers, and all seem about in order. Then, at the last moment, Bane notices a flicker of warmth to the rear of the cave.

"Ah ha! What have we here?" He extends the claws in his fingers and begins slowly stalking toward the heat signature. He switches off his thermo-scan as he comes upon the origin of the heat, a dead deer. "Aw, slag!" he exclaims, "I thought I was gonna get some more scrappin' in today!"

"Oh, but you will!" cries a shrill voice behind Bane. The wolf spins around just in time to get impaled by a large harpoon. Tarantulas is standing at the entrance of the cave, launcher in hand (or claw). The spider walks up to Bane, who is struggling to rise. "My, my! Such resiliency! Normally my cybervenom would have knocked any 'bot cold by now! I'll have to study you more closely than I did your partner."

Bane's optics widen and he stares at Tarantulas's face. "You! Your, Nanowave!"

Tarantulas does a little mock-bow and chuckles. "Hehehehehehehe! So I was called! Back on Cybertron that is."

Great! thinks the twice-wounded wolf as his world begins to dim, Who else that I know is here? Bane uses the last of his energy to look up at Tarantulas and spit in his face. He then collapses and his systems lock up as the transmetal spider picks him up and begins carrying him out of the cave.

A SPARK'S SECRET (2 of 3): CONFESSIONS

By: Xavier (jwhelan@utk.edu)

"Wazzzzzpinator loves flying!" exclaims the confused 'bot as he flies alongside of Inferno. When the warrior doesn't answer, Waspinator flies out in front of him. "Why Ant-Bot not talk to Wazzzzzpinator?"

Inferno shoves the wasp aside and continues on toward the Darkseid. "I do not speak to you, wasp, because you are hardly of my status in the Colony!"

Waspinator puts his legs on his hips (you know what I mean) and sticks his tongue out at the larger 'bot. Inferno is about to blast the wasp when his comlink buzzes (pun intended). "Yes, my Queen?" asks Inferno of the radio.

"Inferno, do you have Waspinator with you?" is Megatron's only reply.

Inferno glares over at the hovering 'bot. "Yes."

"Good." replies Megatron with a sigh of relief, "You two fly to grid Areis, there is a stasis pod landing there. Guard it with your life until Tarantulas gets there to program it."

Inferno salutes the comlink, bashing himself in the head with his flamethrower and doing a back somersault. "At once my Queen!" he screams as he flies off in the direction of the stasis pod's predicted landing area, Waspinator in tow.

The two 'bots arrive at the stasis pod just as the replication sequence is beginning. "Oh no!" screams Waspinator as he lands next to the humming pod. "If we not zzztop it, protoform will be Maximal!"

Inferno's face contorts into a war of emotions. One side of him is happy that the pod would be a Maximal, because that means that he can kill it. The other side of him is sad that yet another addition to the colony must be postponed. So, the expression that shows up on his face is halfway between a scowl and a grin. It kind of looks like a horse has been shot in the face and then told to smile.

"Well?" asks Waspinator expectantly, "What should Wazzzzzpinator do?"

Inferno's expression solidifies into a scowl as he turns to Waspinator. "Reprogram the pod, Waspinator."

Waspinator salutes clumsily and turns to the pods controls. The computer layout indicates that the replication process is done, having chosen a white mouse for the beast mode, and the Maximal programming chip is being installed. "Oh no!" mourns Waspinator as he dances up and down, "What Wazzzzzpinator do?" Waspinator knows that if he fails, Inferno, then Megatron will both scrap him. Then, in a fit of panic, Waspinator begins attacking the pod's delicate controls. He rips wires, computer chips, and energon cells from the side of the pod.

The light inside the pod dims, flickers,, then goes out completely. The computer's voice struggles to speak, "Stasis pod und...er at...ta...ck! U...n...d...e...r a...t...t...a...c...-" The pod's speakers spark once or twice and then go quiet.

Inferno looks at Waspinator and scowls, even he knows that that is not the way you reprogram a stasis pod. "Waspinator, what have you done?"

The giant wasp looks up guiltily, like a criminal that knows he's just been caught red-handed. "Uh, Wazzzzzpinator izzz fixing zzztasis pod?" he offers weakly.

Inferno looks at him critically for a few moments, then nods. "Good. The Royalty will be pleased. Carry on!"

Waspinator is surprised that Inferno actually believed him. Zzzzlag! thinks the wasp, Now what Wazzzzzpinator do? The insect begins rooting around in the pods guts again and comes upon a startling discovery, the protoform's missing! "Zzzlag, zzzlag, zzzlag, zzzlag, ZZZLAG!" he curses and tries to stand up, only to bang his head on the inside of the pod.

While Waspinator is dancing around, Inferno decides that he had better take matters into his own hands. He stalks over to the pod and rips the top off. "Where is the protoform?" he bellows at Waspinator, who is still moaning over his damaged cranium.

"Right here." replies a cold voice from behind the two Predacons.

Inferno spins around and brings up his flame thrower, only to have it cleaved in two. A robot is standing in the middle of the clearing, balancing lightly on two feet, a huge two-handed sword swinging in his hands. The new 'bot's head is smooth like a skinhead's and he has a small nose, slightly slanted blue optics, and a small mouth. He has a medium lower body build and height, similar to Tigatron's. His face is silver with green highlights around where the ears would be. He is massively built in the upper body (shoulders, arms, and neck) from using his two-handed sword. His arms are green and brown in a camouflage-style, as are his legs. His sides and hands are silver. His beast mode folds up similar to Rattrap's, with one exception, a pair of large wasp's wings protruding from his shoulder blades.

Inferno growls low in his throat and begins circling around the smaller 'bot, staying well out of range of that sword. He waits for the right moment, then lunges. Only to meet a quick uppercut from the two-handed sword, which gouges a large chunk of armor off of his front. Inferno drops back scowling, his chest ripped open and streaming mech fluid, his spark casing exposed. He struggles forward a few paces, ignoring the massive wound on his chest. He shakily luges for the mouse, but trips and collapses in a bloody heap. (Oh come on! What did you want me to say? A 'mech fluidy heap'?)

Waspinator looks at this 'bot, who is swinging his sword in intricate patterns as if it were merely a rapier. "Why Mouse-Bot have wings like Wazzzzzpinator?"

The partial fuzor looks up at the wasp as if just noticing him for the first time. "My name isn't 'Mouse-Bot'. It's Xavier." replies the new 'bot. "And about the wings? Well, that was your fault."

Waspinator looks at the mouse, racking his memory files for a way it could be his fault. "Wazzzzzpinator not zzzee how."

"Of course you don't you imbecile. If you had half a processor, you would have known that the DNA scanners reside in the side of the pod after they are used."

"Zzzo?"

Xavier sighs and looks up at the sky, "So, when you began tearing my pod apart, you came in contact with the scanners."

Waspinator's face gains a look of understanding, "Zzzo Mouse-Bot say that when Wazzzzzpinator zzzcrapped pod..."

"And you came in contact with the DNA scanners, part of your DNA went into the genetic makeup of my best form." finishes Xavier. "By the way, that reminds me that I have yet to pay you back for your help." he says while advancing on the unlucky wasp, sword swinging. Waspinator's screams can be heard all the way back at the Darkseid.

* * *

Optimus looks at his captive as he paces around the command room. He turns and looks the fox in his one optic. "Why do you and your partner continue to fight us?"

Bazil snickers and stares back at the transmetal gorilla, "Because you all smell really bad."

Optimus almost roars in frustration. The Maximals had captured Bazil over three hours ago, and the resulting interrogation has been nothing but a headache. The onetime Predacon will reveal absolutely nothing about anything.

Dinobot, however, does roar in frustration. "Why must we put up with this drivel? Leave me alone with him for an hour and he will want to tell us everything!"

Bazil is tied to a chair guarded by Dinobot on one side and Rattrap on the other. "I highly doubt that, reptile." he retorts with no emotion.

Optimus has seen this before, whenever someone threatens Bazil with harm he drops his sarcastic exterior and reacts indifferently. As if something had happened long ago that he thinks can never be topped in the department of pain. "Bazil?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to you that was so bad that torture pales in comparison?"

The fox looks surprised for an instant then smiles humorlessly through his faceplate. "My, my, Optimus. I'm impressed! It seems that you have figured me out."

"Well, what was it?"

Bazil looks up at the Maximal leader, "I said you figured me out. I never said I'd tell you."

Dinobot is about to say something but Optimus stops him. He looks squarely at the fox, "Sometimes sharing a deeply held pain can help soothe it."

"What do you know of pain, Optimus Primal? What I have gone through is worse than every battle of your entire crew put together!" screams the fox in rage, murder glinting in his optic. The Draconian struggles against the two 'bots holding him, trying to get at Optimus.

Optimus is taken aback by this display of emotions. Until now, Bazil has been either falsely sarcastic or emotionally indifferent. "Your right, Bazil. I probably don't know about you pain. But my offer still stands."

The fox stills suddenly, catching the look in Optimus's optics. "You...really care, don't you?"

"Yes."

Bazil settles back into his chair and gazes out a porthole. "I will tell you. But the others must leave."

Rattrap scowls, "Nothin' doin' foxy! Me an' chopper face ain't goin' nowhere!"

Dinobot looks at the rat, "For once I agree with you, vermin!"

Optimus puts up a hand, "You two will leave, now."

Rattrap and Dinobot stare at him with disbelief, "You gotta be kiddin' me! Can't you see that he'll try an' escape as soon as we leave?"

Optimus looks at the rat, "Rattrap, you and Dinobot will leave. That's and order!"

Dinobot shakes his head and stalks to the door, "We will leave the room, but if we hear anything unusual we will reenter."

Optimus nods his head, "Understood."

When Dinobot and a still cursing Rattrap are out of the room Optimus looks back to Bazil. The transmetal gorilla is overwhelmed with pity when he sees the fox.

Bazil has opened his faceplate while the others were leaving, and the effect is gruesome. His faceplate swings open on a small hinge on the left side of his face. His face from the top of his nose down is scarred horribly, like it was attacked with a giant cheese grater. Optimus also sees that the scar that runs over his missing optic travels down across his nose to the right corner of his mouth.

"W-what happened?" stammers out the gorilla.

Bazil smiles a cynical smirk, "Oh, this? This is trivial compared to what was done to my soul."

"How?" is all the gorilla can get out.

Bazil looks at Optimus seriously, "If you really want to know..."

***

Tetrax walks down the streets of Cybertropolis, savoring his very existence. He is a Transformer on the small end of the scale, with mostly black and grey coloration, and kind, light green optics. He carries no noticeable weapons and has the evidence of helicopter rotors on his back. He is a small time diplomat that works for an ancient Deceptacon named Rumble. Tetrax's thoughts drift to his wife and son waiting for him at home. He thinks of his wife Xanthra's beautiful face, and of his son Scorch's cute antics. He decides that he'll get home early and surprise them. He transforms into his vehicle mode, an Apache-style helicopter, and flies toward his modest home.

When he is within a few hundred yards of his house, a small box-like structure with an added sleeping chamber tacked onto one side, he knows all is not right. He sees flashes of light coming from the 'kitchen' window and he can see more than two figures moving about. He lands outside the window and pulls out a small holdout blaster that he carries for self-defense. He pulls himself up and looks in through the window into a scene from hell.

There are two powerfully built 'bots standing in his kitchen, over the battered and broken body of his wife. Her head is crushed in from one side and her right leg is bent the wrong way. Her jaw is slack with mech fluid dribbling out of it, and her normally vibrant gold optics are vacant. Tetrax still holds a faint hope she is alive until he sees her chest. Her chest is ripped open and her spark chamber is visible, and vacant.

Tetrax slumps against the wall of his house, not even checking to see if his son is still alive. His spark is gripped with sorrow as he cries silent, despairing tears. He grips the blaster as his sorrow gives way to rage. His mind is enveloped in a red cloud of dangerous emotion. He stands rigid, blaster griped tight in one hand as he formulates a plan. He steals silently around the front of the house and creeps in through he front door and into his living room. The familiar shapes of the furniture brings back old, happy memories. Memories of laughter, love, joy, and contentment.

The Predacon slips silently up to the door of the kitchen, and stops short, pressing up against the wall. He hears the hoarse laughter of the murderers as they go about their grisly business.

"Ha! The boss said that the girl might put up a fight. Boy was he wrong!" laughs one of the assailants. He has a rough, scratchy voice.

"Yeah. She tried to fight back until we threatened to hurt her kid. That shut her up!" replies the other, who has a smooth baritone.

The first one shuffles over to the far side of the room, and Tetrax hears a pulse cannon charging. "Now where is that traitor's brat?"

Traitor? thinks Tetrax to himself in confusion, What have I done to be branded a traitor? I mean, I've never really agreed with the Predacon ideals, but I've always followed orders!

Tetrax's thoughts are interrupted by the high-pitched voice of his son. "Lego a' mes you bad man!"

Tetrax tenses and waits to spring to his son's rescue, and his death. "Yeah, right!" snickers the baritone murderer.

Then without warning, Tetrax springs around the corner, firing wildly. He catches one of the two in the helmet, snapping his head back violently. The holdout blaster doesn't pack all that much power, so the rest of the shots glance harmlessly off of the murderers' armor plating. Tetrax lands and rolls into a crouch, his blaster up.

The remaining 'bot, a blue and gold giant with a pulse rifle, looks at his downed partner. "Eh, Starburn? You okay?" Starburn's only reply is to shudder once as his spark floats up effortlessly from his unmarred chest. The evidence of his destruction, a gaping black hole in his forehead, has begun to gush silvery-blue mech fluid.

"You, son of a bitch!" curses the other in a rough voice as he brings his pulse rifle to bear and begins firing at Tetrax.

The smaller Predacon dodges effortlessly as he advances on the hit-bot. He drops his blaster and strikes the rifle out of the other's hand. The larger 'bot begins swinging at Tetrax with his fists. The smaller 'bot fights as if under a trance, his mouth and eyes showing absolutely no emotion. He trades blows with the larger 'bot for roughly three cycles (an hour), and finally stands victorious.

Tetrax stands on unsteady legs, his power ebbing away with every passing second. But he feels no elation for the won battle, only cold detachment from life. He staggers over to the body of his wife and collapses at her side, his wounds taking their toll. He reaches up and gingerly pulls one of the murderer's fingers, his index finger to be exact, from his left optic. A flood of mech fluid greets the extraction of the object as Tetrax quickly jams the finger back in to stop the bleeding, and almost passes out from the pain. He then begins the delicate task of removing the shrapnel from all over his face. His assailant had gotten hold of a concussion grenade during the fight and had triggered it, killing himself and grievously wounding Tetrax in an effort to take the smaller 'bot down with him. He traces a large gash from the top left side of his forehead down to the right corner of his mouth. He is sure the wound will leave a scar.

Tetrax stands up and stumbles over to the back door, leaning on the wall for support. He is within six feet when a young voice reaches his ears. "Daddy? Is the bad man gone?"

Tetrax turns to his son and nods slowly. His son had run and hid when the fight had begun, and was now just emerging. The older Predacon motions for his son to come here. Scorch complies and his father leans heavily on him. "Daddy, your hurt!" exclaims the small transformer. "We've got to get help!"

Tetrax looks down at his son and nods, "Yes, let us go. We have much work to do."

***

Bazil looks at the astonished face of Optimus Primal as he settles back into the chair he had occupied earlier. A river of strange emotions are running through him. On one side, he was somewhat relieved to have finally told someone of his tragedy. The other, more rational side of his was mentally beating him with a stick for being so weak. While compassion and emotion earn a Maximal fame, they earn a Predacon to right to choose how he wants his body disposed of. thinks the onetime Predacon with a smirk, he always had liked that saying.

"What's so funny?" queries the Maximal leader when Bazil smiles.

Bazil hurriedly drags himself back to the present and slams his faceplate closed with a clang. "Nothing of your concern, Primal!"

Optimus merely shrugs his shoulders. He has come to expect this kind to reaction with Basil. As a matter of fact, Optimus is still astonished that the Draconian had opened up so much. The transmetal gorilla turns to the fox and puts his hands behind his back. "Well Bazil, what do you suggest we do now?"

The former Predacon looks right back at the Maximal, his emotions once more hidden by that cold grey faceplate. "I'd like it if you would let me go." he ventures with sarcasm, "But things are never that easy, are they?"

Optimus sighs and shakes his head from side to side, "I afraid your right. I can't let you go."

Bazil stand and shakes his own head in mock sadness. His hands now hidden behind his back, Bazil rips off a small patch of lose metal on his back. When his questing hand reaches inside it finds a small virus dart that Bazil always keeps as a last resort. This dart is filled with a particularly nasty virus, one that spontaneously expends spark energy in bolts of highly condensed energon waves. Though invisible and harmless to others, the expended energy will kill the victim if no medical attention is given. "What a pity. And here I was hoping I wasn't going to have to do this!"

Before the Maximal commander can react, let alone ask any questions, Bazil brings his left hand down on Optimus's right arm. The transmetal roars out in pain as the dart drains its deadly cargo into the host's body. Bazil sweeps the feet out from under the flailing 'bot and grabs his discarded fission cannon just as Dinobot and Rattrap enter the room with weapons ready. Bazil wastes no time in strafing the area around the two Maximals with laser fire. As they duck and dodge to avoid the blasts, Bazil spins around and blows yet another hole in the room's east wall. He runs toward the hole and dives out just as Dinobot and Rattrap begin to return fire, leaving scorch marks and dents all over Bazil's light armor.

Expecting to hit dry land, Bazil tucks into a ball and positions his feet for a rough landing. Expecting does not mean getting though, not by a longshot. One thing Bazil failed to bring into his calculations was that almost half of the Axalon is suspended over a cliff with water at the bottom. The Draconian plummets like obsolete computer prices and strikes the water with a resounding Crash!

"Slag!" curses Rattrap as he throws his gun to the floor in disgust. "Can't we ever hold on to that guy for more than a megacycle?"

Dinobot is kneeling down by the hole, looking out. "He is quite a slippery character." replies the raptor.

The two are interrupted by the groaning form of Optimus on the floor of the chamber. They run over and help the transmetal up to his feet and lead him over toward the door. He looks at them weakly, "Wh-where...is...h..e..?"

"Bazil? Oh, he got away, again." replies Rattrap, who is supporting Optimus's left side.

"Yes," continues Dinobot, supporting his leader's other side, "he has escaped once again."

Optimus is about to ask another question when his body convulses violently and goes limp. Rattrap and Dinobot look at each other worriedly and quickly drag the unconscious 'bot to the medlab. Rhinox, who was working on a antidote for the virus that Bazil had infected Tigatron with is already in the room. He stands up in alarm when Optimus is dragged in, his experiment forgotten.

"What the slag happened to him?" asks the older Maximal.

Rattrap and Dinobot drag Optimus over to an operating table and deposit him gently. "Bazil happened." explains Rattrap.

Rhinox curses when he sees the small black dart jutting out of Optimus's right arm. "Slag! Not another one!"

Rattrap and Dinobot look at each other, confused. "Another what?" asks the rat.

"Never mind." replies Rhinox hurriedly as he begins hooking Optimus's body up to a variety of medical machines. He motions for the other two to leave and bends over the limp form muttering obscenities.

* * *

The cage is just that, a cage. No elaborate energy bars, no pop-out auto guns, nothing but cold steel.

"Guess I'm not all that an important prisoner." Bane muses to himself as he stretches out on the bare floor of his cell. After Tarantulas had captured him, he had taken Bane straight to the Darkseid and after a few cycles in the CR tank, to Megatron. When Bane had seen this towering purple 'bot, he had done a double take. This "Megatron's" real name is Scragg. He used to work for the ancient Deceptacon Rumble as a computer expert. This is before he and Bazil sent that dirty Deceptacon's spark to the Inferno. He's the one that messed with Bazil's programing and installed that memory block! the wolf had thought. Megatron just laughed when Bane voiced this opinion, and took full credit for the program.

"Great," snarls the large wolf, "next thing I know my slaggin' mom's gonna' show up!" Which Bane knows is impossible, considering the fact that she's dead. Killed when he was just a young 'bot by some hired killers, who his father killed in turn. He smiles, remembering the fight in which his father killed the two hit 'bots with ruthless efficiency while he had watched on form a hiding place in the next room.

Bane shuffles to his feet as he hears heavy footfalls in the hall outside the room. He stiffens when Black Arachnia and Megatron enter, both in beast mode.

"Ah, our cavorting canine! How are you? Doing good I suspect, yesss?"

Bane, also in beast mode, answers mockingly. "Why do you always talk to yourself? I mean, you did it back on Cybertron to, but everyone said it was just a nervous habit."

Megatron shifts uneasily, "I just, uh, have a lacking need for, um, intelligent conversation."

Bane snickers to himself, happy he was able to embarrass the Predacon. He turns to the black widow and does an extravagant bow. (Just imagine how that would look if a wolf was doing it!;) "And to whom do I owe this distinct pleasure?"

Black Arachnia seems somewhat taken aback by this statement and stutters out a reply. "M-my, uh, my name is, Black Arachnia."

Bane smiles as winningly as he can in beast mode and winks at her as he turns to Megatron. "So Barney, whadya' want?"

Megatron, obviously not getting the joke, replies coolly. "What I want, Bane, is what you and Tetrax got from the Maximals' computer."

Bane's smile vanishes and he holds up a paw, "Two things Megatron. One, His name is Bazil now. And two, not in your lifetime you walking rainbow billboard!"

Megatron roars and kicks the bars of the cage, sending Bane flying into the back wall. He obviously got that one! thinks the dazed wolf to himself as he struggles to rise.

Megatron stomps toward the door, "You will regret this insolence, Draconian! I will..."

"I know, I know! Make me with I had never come online! Damn man, that is so cliche!" finishes the slightly dazed Bane. Megatron roars in frustration and storms out the door, slamming it behind him. Bane gets shakily to his feet and leans against the wall for support. That's when he looks up and notices that Black Arachnia is waiting outside the cage in robot mode. Bane stares blankly at her for a few moments then smiles weakly. "Looks like he got that last joke."

Arachnia smiles back and chuckles dryly, "Yeah, looks like he did." She pauses and looks at her feet as if in embarrassment and shuffles them around.

Hm, thinks Bane, she obviously wants to say something, but is afraid to. He looks at her and clears his throat, "What do you want to say?"

Her head snaps up in surprise. "Who says I want to say anything?" she replies haughtily as she spins on her heels and walks out the door, passing Quickstrike along the way.

"Hehe. How's it goin' sugarbot?" he asks in his Texan-style drawl.

"Outa' my way slag-for-brains!" she exclaims while backhanding the fuzor out of Bane's line of vision.

Ouch! thinks the wolf as he sinks back down to the floor. I'm glad she didn't get that mad at me! Oh well, I guess I can plant the seeds of dissension another time. Now there's only one thing to do. Wait, and hope my dear ol' dad hasn't forgotten about me!

A SPARK'S SECRET (3 of 3): Revenge

By: Xavier (jwhelan@utk.edu)

Screech opens her optics and looks around the room. It is a sparse, practical, clean room. The only decoration being a elegantly carved energon sculpture in one corner. Its luminescent tendrils swirl around each other, creating the effect that it is constantly in motion. She is watching the sculpture when the figure next to her shifts around and mumbles something.

Screech turns over and looks at the sleeping Silverbolt. "What is it Freefa-, er, Silverbolt?" She still isn't used to his new name.

Silverbolt slowly opens his optics and smiles. "Have I died and gone to the Matrix? Is this an angel that greets me?"

Screech smiles and punches the fuzor lightly in the arm. "Oh, get up!" she exclaims as she slides off of the recharge bed and moves over to where her armor was so hastily discarded the night before. Silverbolt groans and pulls himself out of the bed.

The fuzor walks over to his own armor and begins donning it. When he is finished, he joins Screech over by the door to the hall. She drapes her arms over his shoulders and pulls him close and kisses him squarely on the mouth. He returns the kiss and wraps his arms around her back, holding her tight.

Their embrace is cut short by the room's built-in comlink. "Silverbolt, Screech, report to the command room. I have a mission for the two of you."

Silverbolt reluctantly brakes the kiss and presses the 'talk' button. "On our way Rhinox." Following the poisoning of Optimus Primal, Rhinox, being the second in command, took control. Though not dead, Primal is extremely sick and under constant surveillance.

Screech opens the door and falls in beside Silverbolt on the way to the command room. "Doesn't his terrible timing ever get on your nerves?"

Silverbolt looks at his lover and chuckles lightly. "You'll get used to it eventually, my lady."

Screech smiles and gives Silverbolt a quick peck on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asks, slightly confused.

Screech puts her hands behind her back and shrugs her shoulders. "Oh, I don't know."

"And to think, I used to be happy without you!"

If not for being a robot, Screech would be as red as a beet by now. But, seeing as she is a robot, all she can do is walk faster. "Come on, fido. Let's get to the command room."

Silverbolt shrugs and quickens his pace.

* * *

I slip through the forest like I was taught, silently. My sword swinging freely on my back. I have not yet gotten used to flying, so I don't use the wasp wings. My mind drifts back to the day's earlier happenings. I did so enjoy scrapping those two 'bots, whatever faction they're from. I hate both, and will strive to tear them apart. I am currently following the trail of the two wounded ones, hoping that they will lead me to their base so I might destroy it as well.

The forest ends and a barren field of rock stretches before me. I pause, checking my surroundings for signs of an attack. Nothing. I transform into beast mode and begin the delicate task of weaving in and out of the rocky landscape. Rifter would be proud, he did teach me after all. I slide in between the boulders, further and further from the forest. I creep up over a small rise, and realize my goal. The wounded ones' base, a ship actually. From the looks of it, it crashed in the middle of a lava field. I shimmy closer and closer, avoiding sensors and auto guns along the way, and disabling them when need be. My mind drifts once more back to Rifter's teachings, and a sparring session in which he had said, "My job, Xavier, is not to point out your mistakes. Rather to aid you in overcoming your faults once you acknowledge them."

When I draw close enough, I transform and pull a small device out of my subspace pocket. I place the C-4 on the side of the ship and set the timer. Thirty seconds. Plenty of time for me to get out of range. Then I pause and pull a second object out of the pocket. I place the small red box on the C-4 and activate it. The portable shield generator surrounds a twenty foot area, in theory effectively containing the explosion as well as itself.

I activate the timer and quickly run for cover, still avoiding as many sensors as possible. However, as many as possible, is not always all.

* * *

Quickstrike lounges lazily in front of one of the perimeter scanners. He yawns and scratches his chest with his snake head.

"Man, scanner duty is so dang-blasted borin'!" exclaims the fuzor to no one in particular. "If only thar was some Maxies for me tah wail on. Then I'd be happy!" Unbeknownst to him, the fuzor's wish is about to be granted, sort of.

*BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!BA-WAAH!*

"What the slag?" screams the fuzor as he falls indignantly from his post. The klaxons draw the attention of everyone in the base as Megatron flies into the room angrily.

"What is the meaning of this Quickstrike?" asks the large purple tyrant as he lands heavily next to the prone fuzor.

Quickstrike props himself up on his elbows and shrugs his shoulders. "Ah don't know, Megatron. I was jus' sittin' here, mindin' mah own business when, wham! The alarms started goin' all crazy-like!"

Megatron looks at the scanner screen and roars. "Quickstrike, it says here that there has been a major hull breach in sector two! Take Inferno and Tarantulas and go investigate, now!"

Quickstrike scrambles to his feet and salutes hastily, "Right away Boss-Bot!" The fuzor runs quickly out of the room to find Inferno and Tarantulas.

Luck be with him, as Quickstrike rounds a corner he runs straight into Inferno's newly repaired torsoplate. He scrambles back to his feet and points at the ant with his leg-arm (you know, the one with all his beast mode legs on it) "Hey Inferno, Boss-Bot says we gotta go check out a hull breach in sector two. He also said to bring Tarantulas."

Inferno looks at the smaller 'bot, as if pondering the credit of this secondhand order. (yeah right!) He snaps to attention and salutes with his flamethrower, "If the Queen commands, then I shall go!" He turns an about face and marches off toward the breach.

"Hey," Quickstrike calls after the gargantuan 'bot, "what about Tarantulas?"

The ant spins around and sniffs disdainfully, "We do not need him! Now come, our quarry awaits!"

Quickstrike, completely convinced of his own invincibility, runs after Inferno hooting wildly. "Yee-Haw! Finally, somethin' ah can SINK mah teeth into!"

* * *

Bane is awoken from his fitful slumber by a dull explosion. "What the hell?" cries the wolf as he scrambles to his feet in alarm. He looks around the room for any sighs of danger. Finding none, he settles down and listens. The dull blare of klaxons echo through the makeshift base as he can hear many 'bots scrambling around outside his door. Finally, he thinks to himself, Tet-, uh, Bazil showed up!

The Draconian listens more closely as he hear the approaching footsteps of the Predacon leader. The footsteps stop outside his door. "Black Arachnia," begins Megatron's voice, "guard the prisoner. Don't let him escape!" The room's door slides open and the supple figure of Black Arachnia slides in as Megatron stomps off.

Bane watches her pace around the room for a few minuets before raising his head off of the floor of his cage. "Hey."

She stops and looks at him, "Be quiet! If Megatron hears me talking to you he'll have my hide!"

Bane lowers his head back down to the floor. "Geeze, I just wanted to know what's going on. That's all."

The spider looks at him for a few seconds then steps closer to the cage. "You wanna know what's going on?" Bane nods. "Ok," she replies, "We're being attacked by either the Maximals or by your friend." She looks away and shakes her head, "And I'm not sure which would be worse!"

Bane gets to his feet and looks Black Arachnia square in the eyes. "Trust me, you'd prefer the Maximals."

The spider returns his glare for a few nanoclicks, trying to detect any hint of a bluff. There is none. She nods and begins pacing again.

Oh well, it's now or never! thinks the large wolf to himself as he transforms into robot mode and approaches the bars.

Black Arachnia swings around, her harpoon gun leveled at Bane's chest. "Don't even try it." she warns calmly.

Bane just smiles that sadistic smile of his and grabs a bar in each hand.

Arachnia smiles and lowers her weapon slightly, "Ha! You can tug on those Tibanium di-cast bars all you want buddy. Your not going to even dent them!"

Bane just continues smiling and closes his eyes. Okay, Here goes! he thinks as he physically prepares his superstructure for the immense strain. "Computer, divert all stored and available power to arm strength." he says soft enough so that Black Arachnia wont hear.

"Acknowledged." blares his internal speakers, "Power being diverted."

* * *

Black Arachnia's head snaps up as she hears the wolf's internal computer speakers say something about diverting power. This is it, he's making his move. Ever since laying eyes on him, Black Arachnia knew that he would try and escape. But seeing as he has no weapons and is behind bars, she saw no reason to be alarmed. Even if he is diverting all normal systems power to his arms, the bars are still too strong. So in effect, she leaves her gun in her subspace pocket. Her mistake.

The spider's head jerks up again when she hears the sound of straining metal. She sees Bane standing with his shoulders squared with the bars, pulling. The amazing this is that the bars actually bend. No, correction, they get ripped from their holdings in the floor with a violent screech of metal. Bane drops the heap of twisted metal and leaps at the startled Predacon, still grinning maniacally. She stumbles to her feet and pulls her harpoon gun out with lightning speed, only to have it and her right hand pinned to the wall by Bane's foot.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he mocks while wagging a finger at the female. He is caught off guard as Black Arachnia fires her leg guns at him, point blank.

"Heh, didn't expect that, did we?" she says, still pouring bullets into the hapless Draconian. Bane staggers back under the assault, mech fluid dribbling from the many holes in his now slagged armor. He falls over on his back with a crunch. Black Arachnia steps closer cautiously, her gun drawing a bead on Bane's head the entire time. She gets within three feet of the huge 'bot and is preparing to send him to the Pitt when he springs to life. He kicks his right foot straight up and knocks the gun from the she-spider's claws. He brings both his legs back over his head and then throws them forward again, doing a perfect kip-up. (You know, kind of springing to your feet from you back) Black Arachnia is worried, she is too close to Bane too use her leg guns, and is too far away to hit him. He, on the other hand, can hit her easily, halving almost double her reach.

They trade blows for a few minuets, both scoring hits occasionally. Bane has a large gash on his chest from the spider's claws to go along with over three dozen bullet holes. Black Arachnia on the other hand is relatively unscathed except for her missing legs. The legs normally mounted on her arms are scattered around the room, courtesy of Bane. Black Arachnia winced as she blocks a roundhouse kick from the towering 'bot. Her arms ache terribly, the torn roots of her beast legs throbbing with every movement. She sticks up an arm to block another punch thrown by the wolf only to find a jagged pie-shaped piece of metal clutched in his hand. The metal embeds itself in the exposed inner wiring of her arm, causing waves of pain the ripple through her. She tries to block the next blow, but with little success. Another piece of metal slams into the side of her neck, causing the spider to scream in agony. The screams soon turn to gurgling as mech fluid pours into her throat. She tries vainly to pull the sharp metal from her neck, wondering where Bane keeps getting the objects. She drops to one knee, and tries to stand again only to slip on the pool of mech fluid that covers the floor. She slams into the floor and stasis lock overtakes her pain-wracked body. The last thing her dimming optics see is the smiling visage of the triumphant Bane, his own arm's armor ripped to shreds with pie-shaped pieces missing from it.

* * *

I slide down another corridor of the dark ship. It is larger than I anticipated, therefore making my task all the harder. I have yet to find any of the base's tenants. I stop short of another corner when my finely tuned audio receptors pick up heavy footfalls. Two pairs, to be exact.

"Be on guard, Quickstrike. We know not where the invader of the colony is." says a deep voice. There is something about this voice, ah, yes. Now I can place it. That is the voice of a fanatic, the voice of the ant I fought earlier.

"Don't worry about me, Fire-Guy. Ah can take care of mah self!" exclaims a high voice with a strange accent that I have never heard before.

I flatten myself against the wall just around the corner from the two would-be defenders. I draw my sword slowly from its sheath on my back, and poise myself to strike. That's when I hear a light clank behind me. I spin around and neatly dodge a large harpoon from a strange 'bot with eight metal legs on his back. My sword strikes back as if it has a mind of its own. Eight-Leg's loses his gun along with his right arm. He screams in agony and jumps up to the ceiling, pulling himself into a small hole. I smile and bend down to pick up the severed limb. This unwitting action saves my life as a large missile sails over my head and pulverizes the wall in front of me. Stupid! I forgot about the other two! Rifter would literally kill me if he were here! I spin around and dive to one side, avoiding a bolt of green energy loosed by a short green and brown 'bot with a snake's head on one arm.

I roll to my feet and begin my advance toward the two, dodging and weaving along the way to prevent from being torn in half by large energy blasts. When I draw within five meters of the two 'bots, I begin my assault. I run over to one of the walls of the hallway and jump up on it, staying long enough to propel myself back off. I crash into the large red 'bot with my sword swinging in a powerful overhand strike. He also loses an arm along with his gun. After a few more slashes, I land a few feet behind the towering 'bot and turn slowly around. The large ant is missing most of his upper torso as well as his head. There, that should keep him out of the fight. The smaller brown and green 'bot is staring at me, shaking. He raises his gun-arm and points it at me. I look into his eyes and see a look that sends my emotion chip all aflutter. I see, terror. Absolute, unyielding, all consuming, terror. I grow high of the knowledge that I am the one that is causing such fear. He drops his arm and whimpers, still held fast by my gaze. He is so terrified he doesn't even flinch when I remove his head from his shoulders. I shake my head and continue down the dark hallways of the ship, none the different from when I entered except for a light coating of mech fluid on my sword.

* * *

Rats scurry into their holes as a huge creature stomps past, obviously in a foul mood. "Where are Quickstrike and Inferno?" it bellows to the creature buzzing noisily next to it.

The huge wasp 'shrugs' its shoulders, "Wazzzzzpinator not know where Two-Head and Ant-Bot go. Maybe Megatron use comlink?"

Megatron stops walking and turns to face Waspinator. "When I want your opinion I'll..."

"Give it to you." interrupts a laughing voice from the shadows. "Man, where do you get those? 'The 1,000 Most Cliche Lines in History'?"

Megatron bellows in rage and spins around, terrorizing at the same time. "Only one 'bot that I know is that insolent!" he screams while pointing his tail-gun at the patch of shadows the voice is coming from. "Show yourself, Scorch, or be terminated!"

"For the last time," exclaims an infuriated Bane as he walks out of the shadows, "my name is BANE!" He takes the initiative by diving at Waspinator and smashing the wasp into the wall just as he terrorizes. The Predacon slumps to the floor, unconscious. Megatron spins around, aiming his tail-gun at Bane. Bane ducks the first shot and picks up Waspinator's dropped sting-gun. He brings up the gun just as Megatron draws a bead on his head. The two pause, both with their vital circuitry targeted.

"Well," sneers Megatron with thinly veiled hatred, "it seems we are at a stalemate."

"So it seems." replies Bane as he quickly rolls to one side, shooting blindly at the towering Predacon. He scrambles quickly to his feet, ready to dodge any attacks. None come. Bane looks over at Megatron, or more accurately, his body. The Predacon leader has a large hole in his now blackened face. Upon seeing this, Bane drops to one knee and bows his head, "Thank you Lady Luck!"

The Draconian continues down the hallway armed only with the stolen sting-gun, his skill, and his luck.

* * *

I leave the base, satisfied that justice has been done. I found the body of the large purple saurian. Expertly shot in the temple. I took the time to dispose of the two I did not destroy, the Large purple one and the female. I guessed that the same entity is responsible for both of them. The eight legged one I never did find. Oh well, I'll come back for him later. I round a corner only to find yet another of the base's inhabitants. This one is almost as large as the saurian and is staring right at me. He starts when I move, bringing his weapon to bare. His weapon, the same that the wasp used earlier today, is obviously not his preferred tool of destruction. I prepare my body for battle, then I see it. A symbol, much unlike that of either of the factions.

"You." I call in his direction while simultaneously relaxing my stance.

"Who, me?" he asks sarcastically, pointing at himself.

"Yes, you. Which faction are you from?"

He looks at me with a twisted grin on his face. This expression unsettles me. It is the look of someone who enjoys causing people pain. Great, a masochist.

"Me?" he asks again. I nod. "Oh, neither."

Just as I suspected, "As I thought. You are a member of the Draconians, are you not?"

He starts, surprised. "H-how do you know?"

I smile knowingly, "Your symbol, the coiled viper. It is the Draconian symbol, is it not?"

"Y-yeah." he stammers out. Not very professional. He must be Scorch, the younger one.

"I admire your work, we want the same thing."

"Which is... what?" he asks.

"The destruction of both the Maximals and Predacons." I reply as I sling my sword and turn to leave. He wisely does not try to impede my departure. Draconian or no, I will not tolerate violence upon my person. I hear bushes rustle as he mover quickly away. Now, I must find a place to sleep.

* * *

Bazil trudges wearily up to the entrance of the cave. Boy, my whole slaggin' body aches! he thinks to himself as he passes through the mouth of the cave. He sees that everything is normal, including the snoring form of Bane in one of the command chairs.

"Report!" yells Bazil as he nears the sleeping 'bot.

Bane snorts loudly and tumbles from the chair, arms flailing. "What the hell do you want?" he screams at the fox. Then, realizing who he is talking to, hastily adds, "Sir."

Bazil smiles underneath his faceplate, "Give me a report of the days activities during my absence."

Bane grows nervous and stumbles to his feet. "Uh, n-nothing to report." he stammers, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to cover up the slash wound.

Bazil sees the gash and grows suspicious. "Then where did you get that?"

Bane drops his arms in defeat, "Battling Predacons that drew too close to the base."

Bazil stiffens, if the Predacons found the base, then they may have to move everything. "Did they find the base?"

Bane holds his head up in pride, "No, I defeated them and sent them home in pieces before they drew within scanner's distance of the cave!"

"Good." replies Bazil, nodding.

Father and son stare at each other for a few nonoclicks before Bazil walks away to his quarters.

"Whew!" exclaims Bane as he slumps down into his chair. "That was close!"

He doesn't notice, though, the small spider-like robot with an antenna skitter under the scanner when Bazil passes. Nor do they hear Tarantulas laughing insanely in his lair while cradling the stump of his arm.