Part VII

Rhinox lumbered across the ground at a rather impressive pace for a rhino, Optimus hovering a few feet above him. Most of the journey back to the Axalon had been made in somber silence as they each wondered and worried over the fate of their teammates, but now Rhinox broke it with a hesitant question.

"What do we do now?" Strange, Rhinox reflected, how just five little words could bear such immense importance. Optimus grit his teeth and closed his optics for a moment. That same question had been racing through his mind nonstop since they had left the gate since they had abandoned Rattrap, Cheetor, and Silverbolt. Intellectually, he knew that there had been no other choice, but he couldn't help feeling that he should have been able to prevent it, should have been able to save them. They were his team, and like any good leader he felt responsible for their safety.

"It wasn't your fault," Rhinox said quietly, as though he had picked up on Optimus' unspoken thoughts. The Maximal commander shook himself out of his reverie and glanced down at his old friend.

"Yes, well, in any case, we'll have to regroup with Dinobot before we try anything. Are we in hailing range of the Axalon yet?"

"We should be in another five cycles or so." Optimus nodded shortly in answer and by unspoken agreement, the two increased their pace.

"We will get them back. No matter what," Optimus said at length, his voice laced with steely determination.

Neither Maximal dared to voice the thought that all the determination in the world wouldn't help if their friends had already been destroyed.

* * *

Megatron and Inferno landed unmolested a scant hundred yards away from the alien encampment. Megatron narrowed his optics in suspicion, glancing around for signs of an enemy ambush.

"Hmmm, it would appear they are expecting us, yes," he murmured thoughtfully. This was getting more and more interesting by the cycle. A soft noise behind him caught the Predacon commander's attention and he whirled around to see that he and Inferno had been joined by a small group of their "visitors". Megatron couldn't stifle a small gasp of surprise at their appearance, but to his credit, he quickly recovered his composure. The five creatures regarded the Predacons silently, their crimson eyes glowing softly in the evening dimness. Megatron felt Inferno shift nervously beside him and he silently willed his lackey to be still; they could not afford to anger these strange beings.

"State your purpose." Megatron forced himself not to wince at the harsh and grating voice.

"Ah yes, of course. I have a… proposition of sorts for your leader, if you would be so kind as to show us to, er, him?" The alien cocked its head to one side, as though it were listening to something, then abruptly lowered its weapon.

"You will follow me. And know this; we do not hesitate to destroy those who stand against us." The alien and its companions marched forward, leaving Megatron and Inferno to trail behind.

"What an unpleasant and malicious fellow; I do so like these creatures," Megatron muttered, grinning slyly. As they were led through the camp, Megatron noticed the many scorch marks and toppled shelters that stood testament to a recent battle.

"It would appear you have already had some trouble with the locals," he remarked, wondering how much information he could get out of their stoic escort. The lead alien stiffened slightly, but did not slow its pace.

"We have… dealt with the threat, such as it was," it said gruffly. Inferno openly gaped at the news and Megatron felt a small thrill race through him. Could these creatures have already done away with the Maximals? For a moment, Megatron considered the possibility that he had played this hand wrong, that his whole plan was foolhardy and more than a bit suicidal. But only for a moment. Things would work out to his satisfaction—one way or another.

"You will wait here." Megatron's thoughts were interrupted once again by the alien's nails-on-chalkboard voice and he and Inferno pulled up short just outside the ring of domes. Inferno glared darkly at the now retreating forms of their escort, outraged that they had dared speak in such a manner to the Royalty.

"Patience Inferno, it would not be wise to anger our hosts, no. We'll play by their rules, for now," Megatron said darkly, narrowing his eyes in speculation as he noticed a single figure striding purposefully towards them. The creatures they had thus far come into contact with had all given off an air of danger, but this one positively dripped malice and cruelty. The pulsing violet veins that shot through its mottled grey-green skin were thicker, the spikes that adorned its elbows, wrists, and shoulders were longer, sharper, its crimson eyes did not merely glow, they smoldered. His whole attitude commanded instant attention and obedience. And fear.

Megatron smirked to himself; just the sort of person he liked to deal with. The alien stopped in front of them, close enough that Megatron had to crane his neck to look into its face, but far enough away that neither Inferno nor himself could pose any immediate physical threat to it. Clever.

"You have until the count of ten to interest me. If you fail to do so, we will destroy you. One."

"You get right to the point, yes."

"Two."

"Yes well, you obviously have, ahem, some rather complex plans for this particular area."

"Three." Megatron glowered at the alien's interruption, but didn't allow it to disturb him too much.

"However, as it has also obviously been made clear to you, there are those who would stand in your way and—"

"Four."

"Though you seem to have handled those individuals admirably, I should warn you that they have a nasty habit of refusing to just lie down and die like sensible creatures, yes."

"Five." Megatron's outward demeanor was as cool and calculated as ever, but inside, the first threads of nervousness began to unfurl. This wasn't going as well as he had hoped.

"Now, my associates and I have had many dealings with these Maximals—"

"Six."

"And I think perhaps our combined efforts against them would be mutually beneficial."

"Seven." The creature seemed unimpressed by Megatron's offer of an alliance, and Megatron reluctantly decided it was time to play his trump card.

"Eight."

"Hmmm, if that doesn't strike your fancy, perhaps this will, yes."

"Nine." Megatron extended his arm and quickly called up a particular hologram. As the image shimmered to life in his palm, the alien's eyes widened in shock. It stared at the revolving image of the two golden disks and Megatron smiled. True, he didn't really have both of them anymore, but this creature didn't have to know that.

"Very well, you have my attention. Perhaps we should move this conversation to some place more private?"

* * *

As the Axalon finally appeared in their view, Optimus noticed Dinobot was already waiting for them just beside one of the lifts. The imposing ex-Predacon's near-constant scowl seemed to deepen as Optimus landed, as though he hadn't quite believed the rather brief run-down Optimus had given him as soon as the Maximal commander had been within hailing distance.

"What happened?" Dinobot demanded as he, Rhinox, and Optimus ascended into the Axalon.

"What didn't happen," Rhinox said dully, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Our guests seem to have quadrupled their number, we failed to take out the gateway, and the others have been sucked through to Primus knows where." Dinobot seemed taken aback by the unusual venom in Rhinox' words; clearly the situation with their teammates had hit him harder than he let on.

"What's worse, we don't dare try and blow up their portal now— it's our only hope of getting Silverbolt, Cheetor, and Rattrap back," Optimus continued. For a brief moment, Dinobot stared at him in utter disbelief. Then he exploded.

"Have your logic circuits shorted out?" he snarled. "If anything this serves only to underscore the fact that we must deal with these creatures now, no matter what the cost!"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Optimus replied coldly. "They are our teammates, our friends, and I am not going to give up on them until we've exhausted every avenue."

"They are casualties of war! You cannot be as ignorant of that fact as you would have others believe!"

"And I really don't think you can dismiss them as easily as you would have others believe." There was a distinct challenge in Optimus' tone, but Dinobot never got the chance to answer.

"All right, that's enough. We aren't getting anything accomplished by snapping at each other like children. You two didn't come online yesterday, so start acting your age," Rhinox snapped, though to his credit, he didn't join in the shouting match that had erupted between Optimus and Dinobot. Surprisingly, it was Dinobot who caved in first.

"You are right," he said softly, "and I… apologize." Optimus was a bit taken aback by the unexpected sincerity in Dinobot's voice, but didn't cause the proud warrior any further embarrassment by calling attention to it.

"All right, let's get started. Dinobot, see if there's any way you can get ahold of Air Razor and Tigatron. Rhinox, find out as much as you possibly can about that gateway with the long-range scanners."

Dinobot knew perfectly well that there was very little chance of contacting the other two Maximals; Optimus had to know it too. But, he had meant what he said; if there were even the slightest chance their three missing teammates were alive, he would pursue it. Dinobot also knew the chances that Silverbolt, Rattrap, and Cheetor still lived were remote at best. Still, there was a tiny part of him, a part he refused to fully acknowledge, that almost wanted to pursue even the dimmest of hopes right along with Optimus and Rhinox.

"Perhaps you were right as well Optimus Primal," he whispered softly.

* * *

Rattrap looked up. And up. And into the cockpit of one of the most intimidating war machines he had ever seen. It resembled nothing so much as a large, very large, metal spider. Its coal black surface glistened dully in the pitiful light of the alien landscape as it loomed over them. A large crystal-like structure in the center of its front gleamed with the same hellish red light of the aliens' eyes; and a menacing cannon was mounted on its back.

"Okay… this is bad," Rattrap said simply. Their own weapons were more than adequate when it came to handling Predacons, but he seriously doubted they'd do much more than annoy the creatures piloting the behemoth before them.

"Indeed. What do you suggest we do?" Silverbolt asked. His wing still ached dully from the blast that had grazed him in the earlier battle, and even had he been in top condition, he doubted he'd be able to fly fast enough to avoid the cannon. Cheetor and Rattrap had escaped injury, and possibly could avoid a blast, but he knew they'd never leave him behind. Blast, this was a textbook example of a lose-lose situation.

Rattrap had formulated and rejected several strategies almost before Silverbolt's question had been completed. Truth be told, there was very little they could do except—

"Scatter!" Cheetor's loud cry of warning came a split-second before the mouth of the cannon began to glow and the three Maximals dived for cover in opposite directions. A bolt of white slammed into the place where they had been standing with earth shattering force, leaving nothing but a blackened, smoking hole.

"Man oh man, we just can't catch a break today!"

* * *

A flash of white lit the sky momentarily, confirming what she had already suspected. An uneasy murmur rose from the ranks of her comrades behind her and she silenced them with a sharp gesture.

"How did they find the newcomers so quickly?" The voice of her leader sounded behind her, causing her to jump a bit.

"They had to have been monitoring the Gate's activity. And the Seer is not shielding at all...I can sense him even from this distance," the last was added in a slightly puzzled tone. There was power in the Seer's presence, so why in the name of the gods wasn't he doing anything to hide it? Surely he had to know the Overlord's troops could track him.

"As can I. How many did you say came through?"

"I cannot be sure. The others were less… distinct. He was not alone however, of that I am certain." The leader nodded thoughtfully at her answer.

"Come then, they cannot hope to stand against the Overlord's troops for long," the leader's voice rang out clearly and immediately the rest of their small party snapped to attention. "Spread out, we must take them from all sides; and be prepared to retreat as soon as possible."

She took her position by the leader's side as the rest of the group fanned out and began closing in on the Gate, and the monstrous machine.

"They probably won't trust us you know," she said quietly as they crept over the barren terrain.

"They will not have a choice."

*

Cheetor rolled to one side, just barely avoiding being impaled by one of the "spider's" legs, and leaped to his feet, quite literally hitting the ground running. For such a cumbersome construct, the alien assault vehicle was fast.

"But I'm still faster," he couldn't help muttering, a cocky grin lighting his features despite the dire circumstances. He took a chance and raced directly under the belly of the arachnid machine, firing upwards as he went, hoping to hit some vital mechanism. It didn't work, but it did prove to distract the pilots long enough for Silverbolt to get a good hit in with a missile. For all the good it did—they weren't even denting the thing's outer armor! And its weapons... Cheetor froze suddenly, a new realization dawning on him. Except for that first blast, the aliens hadn't fired on them once, merely lumbered around, forcing them to dodge away from it—and each other.

"Oh slag. Rattrap! Silverbolt! Regroup, they're trying to split us up!" Cheetor sighed softly in relief as Rattrap immediately began working his way towards Silverbolt. The relief was short-lived, however, as their opponents' exact purpose for dividing them became clear. Cheetor darted forward, back under the assault vehicle, intent upon rejoining his comrades. Unfortunately, he didn't noticed the small hatch sliding open in the machine's underbelly just as he passed under it His first indication that anything was amiss came only when a tremendous weight slammed into him from above and sent him tumbling to the ground.

-

"Rattrap! Silverbolt! Regroup, they're trying to split us up!" Rattrap stopped firing at the hulk in front of him and realized with a start that Cheetor was right. Silverbolt was far to the right of his position, and Cheetor was on the other side of the alien machine. While taking it from three different sides might have been a fairly good idea, Rattrap had the uneasy feeling that it was precisely what their enemies wanted them to do. He fired a few more bursts and quickly closed the distance between him and Silverbolt, desperately trying to puzzle out the aliens' strategy.

"What can they possibly want?" Silverbolt asked as Rattrap reached his side. "If it were their intention, they would have destroyed us already."

"I dunno, but I'm bettin' it ain't good." Rattrap almost wished the creatures would fire at them — that, he was familiar with, that, he could deal with. The fact that they seemed to be ignoring him and his comrades unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

"Cheetor!" Silverbolt's startled cry drew Rattrap's attention to their other teammate and he felt a cold lump of fear form in his gut as he saw that the aliens were not ignoring all of them.

*

Cheetor lay still for a few precious seconds, disoriented and not quite sure what had happened. The pressing weight on his back shifted and he felt an arm snake around his neck before he was roughly hauled to his feet.

"I cannot kill you, stranger; our orders are to take you alive. How much we hurt you, however, is entirely up to you." The alien tightened its grip on his throat for emphasis. His captor abruptly spun him around just in time for Cheetor to see the last of a squadron of six drop to the ground from the belly of the metallic spider. "Now. Are you going to give us any trouble, little one?" The alien asked mockingly.

"Trouble? Oh yeah, that's a roger!" Before his captor had time to react, Cheetor hooked one foot around the alien's leg and jerked it forward, simultaneously throwing his full weight back. Both of them fell to the ground and Cheetor took the opportunity to roll away from the startled group. Behind him, he heard Silverbolt and Rattrap shouting, and a moment later a hail of firepower flew over his head and peppered the squadron. Cheetor quickly added his own efforts, and together the three Maximals managed to force their opponents to take cover behind one of the spider-machine's massive legs. Rattrap and Silverbolt skidded to a halt beside him, continuing to lay down a thick sheet of laserfire.

"You okay, kid?"

"Fine. You know, we can't keep this up forever."

"Tell me about it," Rattrap replied grimly. They couldn't keep it up forever, but he had no idea what they could do. Running away wasn't an option, but neither was fighting.

"Watch out!" Silverbolt's warning came too late, for at that moment, one of the monstrous legs swept towards their position, catching all three Maximals and hurling them into the air. Silverbolt landed on his damaged wing and nearly screamed at the agonizing pain that flared through his back. Beside him, Rattrap and Cheetor landed in a groaning heap.

"Ya know," Rattrap muttered breathlessly, "I t'ink we ticked 'em off." Rattrap was proven right when several of the weapons that had previously gone unused focused on the fallen Maximals.

"I think you are correct," Silverbolt said as the mouths of several guns began to glow with energy. The Maximals were able to do little more than leap out of the way as a line of energy bolts thudded into the ground before them. The assault vehicle lumbered towards them with terrifying speed, weapons blazing, forcing the Maximals to resort to purely defensive tactics.

"Geez, we're sitting ducks!" Cheetor shouted above the roar of weaponsfire, struggling to maintain his balance as the ground shook from the force of explosions.

"Oh man, and here come the hunters." Indeed, the entire squadron of alien warriors rushed towards the three Maximals, their eyes glowing with battle lust. Rattrap, Cheetor, and Silverbolt met them with every ounce of firepower at their disposal, but the aliens were as adept at dodging as the beast warriors, and the hits were few. The aliens swarmed around them, their strange silence almost as frightening as a war cry would have been, and once again the Maximals found themselves being driven apart. Three of the aliens attacked Rattrap and Silverbolt with a fury not even Dinobot could have matched, while the other three concentrated solely on Cheetor, slowly herding him away from his friends. Surprisingly, the aliens had forgone their own weapons, and seemed content with hand-to-hand combat.

Silverbolt ducked a hastily thrown punch and plowed into his attacker's middle, managing to throw the alien into one of its companions. The two regained their feet almost immediately however, and Silverbolt and Rattrap soon found themselves back to back, surrounded by their foes.

Cheetor, meanwhile, was faring even worse. For every hit he managed to land on his tormentors, he received at least two in return. The aliens made no sound, but he was certain they were laughing at his admittedly ineffectual attempts to defend himself. Finally, however, the ringleader made a mistake, and left Cheetor the opening he had been praying for. With a savage cry he hardly recognized as his own, he threw himself at the creature, landing a solid kick to its midsection. The thing was thrown back into its comrades, clearing a space for Cheetor to escape the knot the aliens had formed around him. The others were only a few yards away, if he could make it, he could get the drop on the group that had attacked Silverbolt and Rattrap and together they could force the squadron back. It was a plan formed of near hopeless desperation, but it was all he had.

He never knew what hit him.

With a guttural snarl, the squadron commander lurched to his feet and drew his energy weapon. True, he had been ordered to take that one alive, but beyond that, the Overlord didn't care what condition he was delivered in. The alien smiled as he took aim and fired, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at the agonized scream that rent the air.

-

Something crashed into his back and searing heat surged through him, until the pain blotted out all other awareness. Someone let out a bloodcurdling scream and he dimly realized it was himself. Cheetor collapsed to the ground, barely conscious, his internal diagnostics nearly overloading with damage reports.

Hold on, help is on the way. For a moment, Cheetor thought someone was speaking to him, but the whisper-soft voice faded away as quickly as it had come and he was left staring up at the gruesome visage of the squadron commander, and the still glowing weapon aimed at his head.