-Duel of the Dragon's Egg-
Nightshade knew all too well that this might be his last chance for survival. So he took it, firing on the egg with everything he had. Only when the smoke enveloped them both, and he could no longer see his hands in front of him, did he desist.
When the smoke cleared, the egg was still there, but there was a smooth spiderweb crack in the center of it, which was slowly extending in every direction.
Diverting all of his weapon power to charge his plasma lasers, Nightshade focused their full strength to the junction point where all of the fissures intersected, and let loose. The exertion was beginning to get to him, (or was this doppelganger truly feeding off his power, as it had said?) but his efforts were rewarded when the cracks widened in all directions, pushing further and faster over the stone surface until finally, the entire egg was covered from one end to the other in crisscrossing lines of various width. He was preparing to fire again when his diagnostic circuits interrupted.
"Danger. Energon drain. Power levels at twenty-three percent and falling. Return to beast mode, or stasis lock is imminent."
Left with no other choice, Nightshade transformed. Then movement caught his eye. A large red dragon was approaching, and his scaled head was fixed on the broken stone. Nightshade tried to fly away, but as weakened as he was, he could only hover there, slowly descending as his wings gave out little by little. He couldn't just drop either; the resistance of the wind beneath his wings would probably tear them off when he tried to catch himself.
"Whatever this fascinating thing is," Megatron said as soon as he arrived on the scene, "I claim it as my own in the name of the Predacons."
"I wouldn't recommend it!"
"And why not?" The dragon sneered at Nightshade. "Because you want it for yourself, of course. You pretend to be honorable in an attempt to scare me away from this prize, because you can't fight me in your current condition."
"That thing is the reason I'm in this condition in the first place!"
"Oh? Then let's see what's inside." Megatron fired an ice beam from his dragon's mouth into the widest junction of fissures, and the water in the air slowly expanded as it froze, pushing the broken shell aside.
"No!" In spite of himself, Nightshade tried to warn his enemy away. "It'll drain you too!"
Megatron broke off the attack. "Drain? Is that what it did to you?"
"Possibly."
"Possibly," the dragon mocked. "Pardon me if I don't buy it." He continued with his sub-zero assault.
Then twin beams of blood red shot from the open shell straight into Megatron's eyes. His ice thinned out and died as he felt his strength slipping away. For the first time on this planet, perhaps for the first time in his life, Megatron felt real fear. He could not turn his eyes away to break the link. He could not even blink as the power flow weakened him further and further. Meanwhile, a white light was steadily growing stronger within the egg; not just through the fissures, but permeating the shell itself.
"Tried to tell you," Nightshade said. He could feel his own power returning, as his beast form slowly restored him. "That's what you get for not listening once in a while."
Finally the red beams receded. Knowing his dual spark could likely extinguish if he remained, Megatron turned tail and flew away.
"Now it's just you and me," Nightshade heard his own voice say from inside the egg, as the white light completely enveloped it. "You will have another moment to regain your depleted energy, while I use the dragon's to replicate your body." The shards of the stone began to shift together, almost as though it were imploding in slow motion.
"This is not about mercy, you understand," the changeling continued. "It's just no fun killing such a weakened target. Besides, you put forward such bravado, I want to see how much of it you can back up."
When the doppelganger's shell had shrunken to about Nightshade's size, it slowly began to melt, as though it were a wax candle being recycled into a new mold.
My mold, Nightshade reminded himself as he watched.
The first real change in the egg's form was the twin spires that rose from its back. They grew straight outward, and when they stopped growing, a spot just below each tip pivoted up, unfolding the spires like paper fans into large bat's wings.
A string of wax, just over half an inch thick, extended from a space near the front of one of the wings, growing longer and longer until it just stopped. The last three-and-a-half inches of the string took definite form while another thread joined the first. When a passing hand and arm had fully formed, a series of ripples pushed down its length, stopping at the wrist to replicate the section of panther's head that was mounted on Nightshade's arm. The changeling repeated the procedure for the other arm, and then started on a pair of legs, building a pair of missile launchers at the hips once they were completed. Then it formed the robotic head.
"Impressive," Nightshade said, when the copied form was complete. "Your powers of observation surpass even mine. I still give it half a solar megacycle before someone figures out that you're not me."
"I am not infallible. There are those who have managed to see through my disguises." The impostor brought a hand in front of its face and flexed the fingers. "And yet I survive to learn from my mistakes. I have been doing this for almost three stellar megacycles. I am prepared to do so again, if need be."
"So tell me; I'm curious. What do I call you?" Nightshade asked.
"Does it matter?" the changeling replied, further testing its new motor skills. "You're going to die soon, anyway. You will be unable to tell anyone else."
"Bold words. I look forward to shoving them down your throat."
The doppelganger smirked.
"Give me a name, at least." Nightshade was insistent.
"If you must call me something, very well. For the last moments of your borrowed time, you may address me as Philaemos."
"'Philaemos.'" Somehow, it sounded familiar. "That's a human dialect, isn't it?"
"Yes; Greek if I remember correctly. I thought it fitting, considering my role on this world. It translates as--"
"'Blood-lover,'" Nightshade finished. "You're right. That isfitting." He converted to robot mode. "All right then... Philaemos... how do you want to do this? Guns? Swords? All-out, no-holds-barred slaughter?" His voice almost sounded hopeful as he listed that last option.
"Swords, I think," Philaemos replied. "It gives me the best chance to test the limits of this body."
Both of them extended their laser blades, forging matching ninjaken. Nightshade dove forward first, swinging his blades upward to cross them in front of his chest plate. Philaemos responded by flying to one side as Nightshade approached, forcing him to turn around before Philaemos cut him in half from behind.
A well-timed spiral kick gave Nightshade an early advantage as he turned. He followed through with a swift series of jabs and short swings to keep Philaemos on the defensive, and finished the sequence with a forceful horizontal swipe. A pained hissing rewarded him as Philaemos felt the blade slicing into its ventral plate.
"I will kill you for that," Philaemos said scathingly, as the wound resealed.
"As opposed to all the reasons you were going to kill me a few cycles ago?" Nightshade replied, taking his stance again. "Bring it on."
Philaemos took the first shot this time, bringing one ninjaken forward while pulling back on the other. Nightshade crossed his blades again, pushing down against Philaemos's forward blade. When Philaemos swung its other blade, Nightshade countered by swinging himself up and away, raking the changeling's back with both blades before turning and cutting into Philaemos's wing.
"Look," Nightshade asked as the doppelganger closed the wounds again, "are you just fiddling around with me, or what?"
"Well, there's no fun in it if I kill you outright," Philaemos replied. "I hate it when my targets die too quickly."
"For the record," Nightshade said, striking once more, "I knew as soon as you drew back your blade that you were going to bring it forward again. The position of your elbow was a dead giveaway."
They continued the discussion as the aerial combat began anew.
"Very few have been able to spot my fighting style so fast," Philaemos told him.
"It's not only about style," Nightshade replied. "They just set too much store on the fact that they're fighting a changeling. They see you using their body, and expect your fighting style to be either radically different, or exactly the same.
"I, on the other hand, know where the middle ground is," Nightshade continued. "See, even though your style differs from mine, I know how my body will compensate for the change. Which gives me an early shot at countering any attack you throw at me."
Feeling the effects of the raw Energon fields, Nightshade converted to beast mode. Philaemos followed suit, and the two of them went at it tooth-to-claw-to-sonics.
This went on for another twenty cycles. Then Philaemos decided it'd had enough.
"No more kid gloves," it said, shooting its bloodred beams from its eyes into Nightshade's.
"Famous last words." Nightshade responded with his sonic refractor.
Philaemos didn't have time to react before the powerful beam hit it full in the face, severing the optic link and knocking the doppelganger a good distance away. While the changeling was recovering from Nightshade's attack, the Fuzor took the opportunity to request a diagnostic from his internal repair system.
"Moderate damage. Current power levels holding at forty-seven percent. Further expenditure not recommended."
Nightshade looked back at Philaemos just in time to see it fire a sonic beam.
Nightshade fired his own, pushing back against the doppelganger.
It was clear to both of them that the outcome of this exchange would determine the outcome of the battle.
"Rhinox, have you seen Nightshade?" Optimus asked. "He should have been back by now, and I'm starting to worry."
"You've seen him more recently than I have," Rhinox replied. "Sorry."
"I would be willing to go after him," Silverbolt said. "Just say the word."
"That's probably a good idea," Optimus said. "Take Cheetor with you, and--"
A series of weak thumps interrupted him. Turning, the three of them saw Nightshade entering the room, heavily damaged.
"Are you alright?" Silverbolt all but yelled, rushing to his friend's aid.
"What happened to you out there?" Optimus asked.
"Op... timus..." The black cat slipped into stasis lock before he could say anything more.
-End Chapter Seven-
