Important Author's Note: The reason why this chapter is so late is because I had to spend the four days right before Christmas in the hospital. I had to be hospitalized for pulmonary embolisms (blood clots in the lungs) and a blood clot in my left leg which were caused by birth control pills. I just want to take this moment to send a mass warning out to all my readers who are on the pill, who might be thinking of taking the pill or who know someone else who is. If you are taking Yaz, Yazmin, Ocella, Zarah or any of this brand's other generic manifestations, please know that this brand of contraceptives is currently being sued in numerous class action suits because it is the number one oral contraceptive known by the FDA to cause blood clots. (I did not find any of this out until after I was hospitalized.) If you are taking this brand and experience any shortness of breath, cramping in your legs or chest pain, please get to a doctor immediately. Even if you're not experiencing any of these symptoms, please still see your doctor soon to see about changing to another brand. I don't want anyone else to have to experience the same dangerous side effects of these drugs as I did. I am currently on powerful blood thinners for at least the next six months to counteract these blood clots. To all my female readers, please know that this is serious. Those side effects they list on the back of the packages aren't just for show. This can happen to you too. If you are taking any of these pills please discontinue taking them immediately. Your health is too important to play around with.
Chapter Twenty-One: Plans
"We have to consider reconfiguring the layout of Sentinel's outer defense line," Optimus said as he pulled up a 3D image of the Axalon and its surrounding area on the bridge's holo-table. "Megatron's last attack depleted a massive amount of our defenses' ammunition stock. We don't have enough rounds or plasma cells to keep all the gun turrets we currently have positioned around the ship functional. One more attack from the Predacons will wipe out our remaining defenses within minutes. We need to consolidate vantage points to conserve what little resources we have left."
The rest of the Axalon's crew stood in a tight circle around the holo-table. All of their faces were grim. Since the Predacon attack two days earlier they'd all known that things were not going well for them. It wasn't until Optimus had called them together for this emergency meeting, however, that they'd found out just how dire their situation really was.
Dinobot leaned closer and studied the topographical map from the other side of the table across from Optimus. "How many gun turrets are we going to leave operational?"
"At least eight. Maybe nine if we can spare enough ammunition. We have fifteen right now at different points around the ship and its perimeter, but as I said, we don't have the resources to keep all of them running or what little resources we have left to spread between them are going to run out very quickly."
Dinobot hummed under her breath and studied the diagram through narrowed optics. In her arms she held Switchblade perched in the crux of one elbow against her chest. His head was firmly nestled under her chin. Ever since his abduction the sparkling was rarely ever seen out of either of his creators' arms. If anyone else tried to hold him or if Dinobot or Rattrap tried to set him down even for a few minutes Switchblade would become agitated and chirp plaintively until he was once again ensconced in one of his parent's arms. Dinobot suspected he was suffering some sort of separation anxiety as a result of Talon taking him hostage. Switchblade only ever seemed to relax when she held him or was at least within sight of him. It physically boiled her mech-fluid to see her usually energetic son so quiet and withdrawn like this. The next time she met Talon on the battlefield she was going to rip the other femme apart as payment for the trauma she had inflicted upon her progeny.
To her left, Rattrap stood close beside her at the holo-table. Ever since the attack on the base the spy seemed to always be hovering somewhere near her and their son. It was like he felt compelled to keep them constantly within sight. Whether that was because of some male instinctual need to protect his mate and child, or some lingering sense of failure from being unable to stop Talon from taking their son, Dinobot didn't know. All she knew for sure was that for once she did not begrudge the spy's close proximity to her, and in fact welcomed it. After almost having her son taken and her lover offlined Dinobot felt distinctly ill at ease unless she was within sight of them. She did not like to think how close she'd come to almost losing both of them, or how much the threat of Talon harming her son had rattled her to her core. It shamed her sense of battle prowess to admit just how easily she'd been manipulated to hand over the alien disk to Megatron.
Shifting Switchblade in her arms so that he sat in the bend of her other elbow, she leaned closer to the holographic image. Switchblade clung to her and buried his face deeper into the side of her neck. "If we are to reconfigure our perimeter layout with only eight defensive points then we must post at least one gun turret on this rock ledge here overlooking the ship and another one here, here, and here to protect the Axalon's most vulnerable points," she said, pointing out each spot on the hologram with her finger. The hologram flickered each time the tip of her claw passed through the image's neon-green surface.
Optimus nodded in agreement.
"We'll also need at least two automated guns near the rear of the ship to stop any attackers approaching from the east," Rhinox said.
"It would be advisable to leave several mounted on top of the surrounding cliffs to guard the airspace above the Axalon from any fliers," Silverbolt suggested. "To remove them would leave us vulnerable to any aerial attacks."
"And we'll also need at least two to the south to guard against anyone sneaking in through the hills," Blackarachnia added. "I should know. When I was still a Predacon that was the way I always snuck in towards the ship."
Optimus heaved a heavy sigh. "Everyone's suggestions are valid, and under normal circumstances I would take each and every one of them in advisement. But without enough ammunition or plasma cells to keep so many gun turrets operational we're going to have to survive with the bare minimum of automated defenses. We're just going to have to remain extra vigilant through patrols and increased monitor surveillance."
"Dat's all fine 'n good, but wha 're we gonna do 'bout Mega-dip?" Rattrap spoke up. He shifted agitatedly beside Dinobot. "Wha' we gonna do 'bout dat alien disk he took? We can't just let him keep it. Who knows wha' he'd plannin' ta do with it."
The transmetal gorilla wearily shook his head. "Unfortunately, we don't have the resources to try and recover it through force at this moment. Our base is for all intents and purposes a sitting duck from a defensive standpoint. We have no defense perimeter to really speak of, let alone enough men to mount an attack and watch the base at the same time. Megatron is no doubt hoping we'll try something like that and pick us off as soon as we cross over into Predacon territory."
"But can we really risk doing nothing?" Airazor said from the other side of the table. "Megatron mentioned something about being able to change the future now that he has the second disk."
"I don't know about the rest of you guys, but that doesn't sound good to me," Cheetor murmured.
"Or me," Optimus agreed. "But we don't know how Megatron intends to use the disks yet. I'm not sure how one would use such a thing to alter history, but it's obvious he's planning something with them. And nothing Megatron plans is ever good…"
"So wha 're we gonna do?" Rattrap demanded. All the other Maximals stared at Optimus, desperate for answers, reassurance and guidance. Since the Predacon attack there had been a noticeable change in the air amongst the Maximals. The ease of which their base had been infiltrated, having one of their members attacked and another one taken hostage had rattled all of them. There was the unspoken, but universally felt feeling that they were steadily losing this war.
Optimus gave a weary sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his spark. "With what little information we have, there really isn't that much we can do right now. We have no idea what Megatron's plans are or when he might implement them. We don't have the firepower or manpower to make any kind of preemptive strike on the Predacons, and we have no way of figuring out how he might use the disks because we no longer have one to study."
Dinobot involuntarily winced. Although she was sure there'd been no veiled rebuke towards her in that, Optimus's words still stung. She fought to keep her facial plates from showing any of the resentment she felt at being reminded just why they no longer had the alien disk to study. Unconsciously she hugged Switchblade closer to her, pressing his face into the side of her neck. His spark pulsed slow and heavy against her breastplate.
"Until we're able to get more information and make an informed plan," Optimus went on, "we're just going to have to remain vigilant and respond to the first sign of threatening movement we see. Besides increased perimeter patrols, I'm also going to deploy frequent scouting parties into Predacon territory to keep a closer eye on Megatron. No doubt if he's going to make a move, he's going to make it soon."
As he scanned the wall of faces looking back at him, the transmetal gorilla suddenly looked older to Dinobot, as if he'd aged several centuries over just the last few minutes. For possibly the first time in her life, the warrioress did not envy Optimus for his rank or position. She did not envy him the weight of his responsibility or the burden of worrying about the welfare of his subordinates. He was the rock the Maximals had to come to depend on to see them through this war and get them back to their home planet alive. For once in her life Dinobot was glad she was not leader of the Maximals as she'd originally aspired to be before joining their crew. For if she did hold such an important role within their ranks she never would have been able to justify the sacrifice of the gold disk to save her progeny. She owed the majority of that decision to Optimus. But while Optimus had saved her the agony of having to choose between her son and her loyalty to her sworn comrades, the weight of what she'd done still hung heavily on her conscience like a sin she could never be redeemed from.
With a flick of his finger, Optimus deactivated the hologram. The table went dark. "It's getting late," he murmured. "For now I suggest we all get some rest. We will begin devising patrol schedules tomorrow."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table. The circle dissolved and the crewmembers began to drift away towards the door. A thin, but pervasive aura of hopelessness seemed to hang over each of them as they disappeared into the corridor. With her lover close beside her, Dinobot left the bridge. Neither she nor Rattrap said anything as they made their way through the ship. Any sense of hope they'd managed to glean from the meeting had been bleak at best. As though desperate to minimize the space between them even more, Rattrap reached out and gently rested his palm against the small of Dinobot's back. The warrioress said nothing of his touch and continued through the halls, her lover keeping pace beside her. Within minutes, they came within view of the crew's personal quarters. Together the two stopped in front of one of the doors lining the hallway, which Dinobot opened by punching a short sequence of numbers into the door's keypad.
The room was Rattrap's old living quarters. He'd all but abandoned it after learning of Dinobot's pregnancy. Not long after their son's birth, though, they'd begun using the empty room as a makeshift nursery where they could put Switchblade down for recharge each night while Dinobot and Rattrap slept undisturbed in Dinobot's quarters down the hall. Once Switchblade was three months old they'd found he was old enough to sleep through the night by himself without needing the frequent feedings and waste disposals he had when he was a newspark. So for privacy and the comfort of all three of them not having to live squished together in the same room designed with only a single occupant in mind, Dinobot and Rattrap laid their son down each night in his own room.
Switchblade had drifted offline in Dinobot's arms sometime between them leaving the bridge and reaching their rooms. The sparkling warbled softly in his sleep as the warrioress pulled him away from her chest and laid him on the berth. The sparkling squirmed a moment before finding a comfortable place on his stomach and drifting into deeper recharge. Dinobot draped a thermal sheet over his tiny frame and stood straight from over the berth. In the conversion of his old rooms to Switchblade's nursery, Rattrap had installed a long sheet of metal siding along the length of the berth to prevent their son from falling out or escaping in the middle of the night.
Staring at her son curled in his nest of thermal sheets, Dinobot was suddenly reluctant to leave. Ever since Switchblade had been held hostage Dinobot found herself unable to stand the thought of being parted from him for extended periods of time without great hesitation like she was feeling now. She cursed herself for this newfound weakness, but she couldn't help it. Too much had happened. The sparkling had burrowed his way too deeply into her spark for her to try and pretend she didn't care for him.
"Hey, Choppa'face," Rattrap said from the doorway. His voice startled the warrioress out of her thoughts. "Ya okay?"
"I'm fine," she murmured and quickly turned away from the berth, forcing her facial plates into an expressionless mask. As she hurried for the door she made sure to flick on the small one-way intercom Rattrap had installed in the wall so they could hear if their son called for them during the night. Ignoring her lover's concerned glance she strode down the hall to her and Rattrap's own room. The spy followed close behind her and closed the door behind them.
"Choppa'face, seriously. Wha's wrong? Ya've been actin' weird ever since Megatron got dat disk. Wha's up?"
The warrioress growled under her breath and looked away from Rattrap, refusing to meet his optics. "I do not wish to talk about it, Rodent. Just leave me be."
"No. Something's wrong. I can feel it. Just tell me wha's gotten inta you. I don't like not knowin' wha's goin' on in dat cranial unit of yers."
Suddenly wearied by this conversation - even though it hadn't even started - Dinobot trudged to their berth and sank down onto its edge to sit. Her shoulders slumped at she leaned forward over her knees and miserably stared at the floor. She sat for several moments of silence to compose her thoughts. Rattrap did not press her, and patiently stood near the door with both arms crossed over his chest.
"It's the disk," she finally murmured after a time, her voice low and filled with shame. "It was my fault we lost it. Optimus says nothing to rebuke me for its loss, but I can see in in his and everyone else's optics that they blame me for it."
Rattrap stared at her incredulously. "Ya can't be serious. No one blames ya wha' happened. Dat walkin' knife drawer had Switch by da throat. Of course ya were gonna do wha' she said."
"I know!" Dinobot snapped, looking up to spear Rattrap with a frustrated glare. "And that is the problem! I did what any maternal unit would do: I traded my faction's one advantage in the war to save my son's life. A true warrior would have never done so! A true warrior would have weighed the life of one against the outcome of an entire war whose repercussions span over hundreds of generations. A true warrior would have never made such a selfish decision."
Rattrap seemed taken aback. He stared at her in confused shock. "Are you sayin' dat'chu wished ya hadn't saved Switch? Dat ya would've rather kept dat disk an' had our son killed instead?"
"No!" Dinobot cried, vehemently shaking her head. "That is not what I am saying! If I had to chose between the two of them again, I would make the exact same choice I did. I couldn't bear the thought of losing Switchblade. But that is what troubles me so. I have grown too attached. I can no longer call myself a true warrior because of my fondness for him. True warriors shun personal ties. To create a close bond with another goes against our code because of the danger it poses on the battlefield. My affection for Switchblade is a weakness no enemy Predacon wouldn't exploit. I am a danger to you Maximals. If Megatron or Talon were to ever capture Switchblade again I cannot say what I wouldn't do to ensure his safety, up to and including betraying my sworn comrades."
"Ya stupid saurian," Rattrap sighed, stepping closer to her so that he stood directly in front of her. With Dinobot sitting on the berth and the spy standing they shared almost the same optic-level. Leaning closer he forced the warrioress to look up at him and meet his gaze. "No one blames ya fer wha' happened. Rhinox told me all 'bout wha' happened after I came outta da CR chamber dat day. No one thinks ya did anything wrong. Optimus gave ya da codes fer da disk himself, just like anyone else on the crew would'a. If I'd've been in yer situation I would'a done da exact same thing you did."
"Perhaps…" Dinobot murmured, although her spark continued to ache with remembered shame. "But I cannot go on without making amends for my part in losing the disk. I gave that disk to Optimus in hopes of keeping it from ever falling into Predacons hands, yet it was I who ultimately gave it to Megatron and endangered countless lives. My sense of honor will not let me rest until I've rectified my transgressions."
"But wha' can ya possibly do?" Rattrap implored, frustrated and upset by the warrioress's confusing view of the world and her responsibility to it. "Ya can't take Megs an' all his goons on by yerself. We don't even know wha' dat two ton leather couch is gonna do with those disks anyway."
"I don't know…" Dinobot admitted, hanging her head in shame. "I honestly don't know…" She suddenly felt tired. So achingly, frustratingly tired. Crushed by the weight of her sins, the proud warrioress couldn't help but wonder how much simpler life would be right now if her fake superstructure had never been damaged in the quantum surge; if she and Rattrap had never set aside their petty differences and come together as lovers; if she had never gotten pregnant and had her son. How much simpler would her life have been if none of those things had happened? Would she still have been so weak to do what she knew was best for the greater good? Would she still have her honor and not feel as though she had besmirched her warrior's code with her selfishness?
"Don't," Rattrap leaned closer to whisper in her audio. "Don't do dis to yerself. I know wha' yer thinkin' an' it's not yer fault wha' happened. Yer still da strongest bot I've ever met - mech or femme. You savin' Switch da way ya did proves it. It shows ya care an' dat yer not some sparkless Pred who'd rather see an innocent sparkling go to da Matrix instead of handin' over some stupid gold disk. It proves I didn't make a mistake when I started chasin' yer tail all those months back."
Despite herself, Dinobot snorted at the spy's attempt at levity. Looking up into her lover's optics she suddenly yearned for closeness and the reassurance of his presence. Reaching out, she wound her arm around Rattrap's waist and dragged him closer to her. The rat willingly took the half-step closer so that he stood immediately in front of her between her legs, his face mere inches from her own.
Without speaking the two leaned towards each other, their mouths meeting in a passionate, almost desperate, kiss. Arms wound around each and pulled the other close until they were like a single entity, their bodies pressed so closely together it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Hands hungrily groped up and down each other's superstructures. Before long, chestplates found their way to the floor - tossed aside in the lovers' haste. They writhed in each other's embrace on the berth, lost in their own private world of pleasure. This was not the first time they had made love since their son's birth, nor the tenth. But it was without a doubt the most passionate. Dinobot felt consumed by need for her lover. She wanted him. She needed him. In these dark and turbulent times, he was the only one able to give her any real sense of hope. Of the few mechs she'd ever deemed worthy enough to welcome into her berth, Rattrap was the only one she'd ever felt truly comfortable around. He was the only mech she'd ever felt some sort of connection with. When they were alone together in their quarters like they were now, she didn't feel like she had to keep her true self hidden behind a mask of cold asceticism like she did with everyone else. With him she felt freer to be the femme she really was. He'd accepted her for who she was - snarls, threats, faults and all. And through him she'd gained something else she'd never been able to understand the value of before now: a family.
Dinobot had never been skilled at expressing her feelings through words or meaningful dialog. Such skills were not considered necessary for a Predacon's education and upbringing. So instead, like any good descendant of her race, she let her actions speak for themselves and physically showed her lover the true depths of her feelings for him.
It was sometime much later that she and Rattrap finally fell limp to the berth in each other's arms, their passion sated and their sparks still pulsing wildly against the inside of their sparkchambers. They both panted heavily for air in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking, their bodies slick with condensation. Rattrap lay spooned tight against her, his head nestled in the hollow of her shoulder. Neither said a word. Any words right now would have sullied the delicate understanding the two of them had forged over the last hour and a half. Some things were not able to be expressed through spoken language or meant to be said out loud. Some things were better left kept inside like a secret treasure - like Dinobot's deep affection for the rat. She dared not admit them to him even now, for to do so would be a danger to both him, her and their infant son. No. It was better nor to share such feelings, the warrioress firmly told herself. To admit how strongly she cared for him now might somehow weaken her resolve to do what she knew was demanded of her as consequence for breaking her warrior's code.
With that thought in mind the raptor held her lover closer, relishing the weight of his smaller body against her and the steady beat of his spark against her rib struts. Before long she felt Rattrap's intakes even out to a gentle whisper and his internal systems power down to a resonant hum. Dinobot didn't know how long she lay awake in the dark listening to the hypnotic purr of his intakes, but it was sometime much, much later before she was finally able to follow Rattrap into restless, dreamless sleep, unaware of the possessiveness with which she continued to clutch him to her even in her sleep as though reluctant to let herself be parted from him…
Dinobot drifted awake the next morning feeling ill-rested and stiff. The room was silent and dark. She lay for a moment staring up at the ceiling. Glancing at the chronometer beside the berth she saw that it was still an hour before dawn. Rattrap lay sound asleep beside her. At some point during the night he'd shifted so that he lay half on top of her, his arm and one leg thrown across hers as if to keep her from escaping his hold. The warrioress lay for several moments of content silence, waiting for her processor to rid itself of the last remnants of sleep.
It was as she lay there that she suddenly remembered the decision she'd come to the night before while waiting for sleep to claim her.
Dinobot felt a heavy weight descend on her, as if something was physically squeezing her spark into a tiny ball of pain. Rattrap's intakes were slow and rhythmic beside her. Dinobot doubted he would be awake for another few hours. (It was then that she also remembered how exuberant they'd been the night before and decided that it would probably be more than a few more hours before her lover woke.)
With great care, the warrioress lifted Rattrap's arm from overtop her and slipped out from underneath him. The spy mumbled something incoherent in his sleep before curling against the warm spot on the padding she'd just vacated and drifting deeper into sleep. Dinobot quickly located her chestplate on the floor which had somehow ended up halfway underneath the berth. With a sharp snap she reattached it over her sparkchamber.
Dinobot glanced at her sleeping lover. Rattrap hadn't even stirred. An unbidden swell of yearning rose up inside of her. How she would have loved to rejoin the spy on the berth and sink back into recharge with him tightly pressed against her like a living heat generator. But this was something she could not do, no matter how much she might have wished she could. She had something else she had to do. Something too important for her delay any longer.
Stepping closer to the berth, Dinobot leaned down to look into her lover's face. Rattrap's facial plated were smoothed with sleep, as though there was nothing that could disturb his sleeping thoughts. "Forgive me," she whispered too quietly to actually wake him. "But what I do now is for the sake of both you and our son. Please do not think too ill of me for the sacrifice I am about to make…"
As expected she got no response from the sleeping mech, nor did she want one. She could not risk Rattrap waking up and preventing her from carrying out her plan. She could not let anyone try to stop her. Not only for her family, but for her crewmates and the sake of the countless millions over the course of known history, she had to do this alone.
"Farewell," she murmured, and rushed out of the room before her emotions could get the better of her. She did not pause outside hers and Rattrap's room or even look back over her shoulder. To do so would only weaken her resolve and distract her from what she needed to do. But before she could leave, there was still one more person she needed to see…
Sneaking to the door across the hall just down from hers and Rattrap's she punched in the code to her son's room and slipped inside as quietly as a shadow. Like his father, the sparkling was still deeply ensconced in sleep. Dinobot crept to the edge of her son's berth and peered down over the side. Switchblade lay in a curled ball in the middle of his bedding. One three-toed foot twitched against the padding as though he were in the midst of a vivid dream. Despite herself, Dinobot felt her lips twist back from her teeth in an agonized grimace.
"I wish I could have seen you when you are older," she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. "I would have liked to have seen how you turned out. Given the opposing sets of genes you inherited from your sire and me, I can only imagine what conflicting traits you will develop later in life."
Leaning farther down over the side, the raptor reached out and gently touched her son's cheek with the back of one clawed finger. "You and the Vermin have captured a larger part of my spark than I ever imagined possible before I came to this planet. I have come to care for you both very deeply, but that frightens me more than anything I have ever faced in battle before. Predacons are not familiar with the concepts of love or affection like Maximals are. I have never felt such strong emotions for another bot before, let alone two, and it scares me. I would do anything in my power to see you back to our home planet and raised with some decent Predacon values, but I cannot stay with you any longer. I cannot return to Cybertron with you and your father and see you grow up. I must regain my honor here on this planet. For the sake of our family's honor and your own future I must do this…"
Dinobot moved her hand to the back of her son's head and tenderly stroked the gentle curve of his cranial unit. Switchblade's foot twitched against the berth pad in his sleep and he released a tiny warble. "I am going to miss you…" she whispered, her throat suddenly tight and strained with a near overwhelming rush of emotions. "I can only hope that your father someday tells you about me when you are older and that you remember my sacrifice with honor."
Having said all that she had come to say, she turned away from the sparkling's berth and fled the room as quickly as she could. In the few short minutes she'd spent saying her last goodbyes, she'd already felt her resolve begin to slip. She had to leave. Now. Quickly! Before her determination wavered anymore. For everyone's sake she had to remain strong.
She met no one on her way to the bridge. It was still too early in the morning for even those assigned to the first shift to be awake. Within record time she reached the Axalon's command deck. Like in the corridors, no one else was there. Striding into one of the lifts, she descended to the ground outside. Only a faint strip of murky pink light warmed the eastern corner of the sky. With a quick command, the warrioress transformed into her raptor form and sped away from the Axalon at top speed.
Farewell, my friends, she silently called to the ship and its slumbering occupants before it was finally lost from view behind the surrounding hills. If I am successful then perhaps someday in the very distant future we will all meet again in the Well of Allsparks to recount each of our roles in this great war. But to ensure that that might still someday be possible I must go and meet my destiny. I will stop at nothing to defeat Megatron's plans even if it costs me my own life. Of that I swear to you on my honor…
The sun began to rise higher in the sky, casting a golden red light across the rocky plains stretched out before her. Somewhere in the distance lay the Darksyde, and in it the alien disks Megatron planned to somehow twist the future with for his own gains. There was a crisp chill in the air and the open blanket of sky overhead held the promise of mild weather. Perhaps it was Dinobot's imagination, but she couldn't help but feel there was a peculiar thrum in the air that morning, like the whisper of some unspoken threat hovering somewhere just over the horizon.
Come what may, Dinobot thought as she sped across the empty plains towards her destiny. Let the battle be joined…
Rattrap woke slowly, his systems sluggish and unwilling to come online just yet. He didn't know what had woken him, but as he became more and more aware of himself and his surroundings he suddenly noticed the slight chill in the room. He instinctively huddled closer to himself and squirmed against the berth in search of his lover's side. Probably the one thing he'd come to enjoy the most about him and Dinobot sharing a berth was being able to wake up next to a warm superstructure he could wrap himself around and use as his own personal pillow. Although Dinobot constantly complained about his unconscious habit of cuddling in bed, the raptor had never once in all the time they'd begun sharing sleeping quarters kicked him out of their berth for wanting to be close to her. The spy suspected his lover secretly enjoyed such closeness but was just too proud to actually admit it.
Becoming more and more aware of the seeping chill of the room, Rattrap sleepily stretched out an arm across the berth to find out where his lover had turned so that he could press himself against her warmth. Instead all he found was an empty half of berthmat devoid of any traces of body heat.
"Huh? Wha' da…" he murmured, finally onlining his optics to see. Just as he'd already suspected from his questing hand, Dinobot's side of the berth was empty.
Now fully awake, Rattrap sat up and groggily looked around. The chronometer near the side of the berth said that it was still early in the morning - far earlier than Rattrap would have normally woken up if he'd been left to his own devices. But no. His lover had to decide to get up early and leave him with nothing but a cold, empty berth to curl up against. Primus, even those who were assigned to early morning duty weren't up yet. What was Dinobot thinking? Had she decided to work off whatever troubles were still bothering her the night before (despite their vigorous activities) and go practice some of her sword routines?
That was possible. The female raptor had been known to do that on occasion, but usually she waited at least until sunrise so she could inform him of her departure. Was she still upset about losing that gold disk? If she was there was little to no chance of her emerging from the training area before the afternoon shift change.
Grumbling under his breath, Rattrap forced himself out of bed. He found his missing chest plate on the floor next to some of his old soldering tools and snapped it back into place. Still trying to drive away the last little bit of trances of sleep from his processor, the spy made his way to his son's room. Despite Rattrap's own aversion to waking up before the sun was able to gain a nice triangular angle in the sky, Switchblade would be waking up soon and demanding his morning fuel.
"Hey, Switch," he greeted as he lifting the still sleeping sparkling out of his walled berth and settled him in his arms. "Wow, yer gettin' heavy. Maybe we really won't hafta worry 'bout you bein' da smallest mech around when you get older."
The sparkling curled against the warmth of his father's chest, still sound asleep, and gave a sleepy warble.
"Yea, you said it, bud. It's way too early ta be gettin' outta bed yet. But since yer mom decided ta leave without even leavin' me a thermal sheet dis morning, there's really no point in tryin' ta get comfortable again. Might as well go an' get something ta eat before everyone else wakes up."
Switchblade was dead to the world as Rattrap made his way to the bridge. When he arrived several minutes later he wasn't surprised to see that no one else was up yet except for the ship's automated systems. He sleepily trudged towards the nearest computer station and dropped down into the chair.
"Like I said: it's too early ta be up yet," he mumbled to no one in particular except maybe his son who slept on in Rattrap's arms oblivious to his father's complaints.
Sighing, Rattrap turned on the monitor and began booting up the system. Ever since Talon had snuck onboard he'd been wanting to do some research on the ship's systems to see if there was any kind of program he could design to help detect Dinobot's transmetal clone.
Speaking of his lizard-faced lover…
Rattrap opened up his terminal's communication line to the ship's lower hanger bay. That was where Dinobot always like to go and train. "Hey, Choppa'face!" he called into the speaker. "Thanks fer leavin' dis morning without tellin' me. I woke up 'bout two minutes away from bein' a Cybertronian rat-scicle."
Nothing but empty silence answered him. 'Empty' meaning he could actually hear his own voice echo back to him over the radio through the hanger bay's cavernous interior.
"Hey! Choppa'face! Ya der? Answer me!"
Again, no reply.
That was strange. No matter what kind of mood Dinobot was in she always answered his radio-messages, even when she knew he was purposelessly trying to be an aft and bug her. Becoming concerned, Rattrap opened up the ship's security camera feeds. The lower hanger bay was empty. None of the main lights were on. He scrolled between several different camera angles, but he couldn't see any sign of the warrioress anywhere in the grainy black and white images.
A sinking feeling, not unlike when one is dropped from a high elevation, formed in the bottom of Rattrap's fuel tank. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
The spy reached up to the side of his helm and clicked on his personal comm-link line. "Lizard Lips? Ya der? Where are ya?"
Just like with the ship's comm-system, he got no reply. Whether that was because Dinobot was refusing to answer or her frequency was being jammed by something, Rattrap had no way of telling.
"Uh oh…" he murmured. That bad feeling in his fuel tank grew worse. He felt a cold chill of premonition shoot down the length of his spinal column.
Switching on the ship's long distance scanners, he inserted her lover's energy signal into the search key and watched with ill-contained dread as the Axalon searched the surrounding terrain for the missing warrioress.
"Comm'on, comm'on, comm'on, hurry up!" he snarled, drumming his finger agitatedly against the computer station. In his arms, Switchblade squirmed at the noise. Rattrap distractedly patted the sparkling's back to calm him. Staring at the computer screen, he struggled to keep calm despite his mounting dread. If he knew his headstrong lover at all, he had a feeling she was planning to do something extremely stupid.
Finally the computer chirped with a result. Rattrap anxiously leaned forward in his seat. The scanner's readout screen filled with a digitized overhead view of the land. A blinking red dot appeared on the screen's far right-hand side, about half a dozen miles outside of Maximal territory, within spitting distance of Megatron's downed warship, the Darksyde.
Oh, slag…
Dinobot was in Predacon territory. That could mean on one thing: she was going to try and get the gold disks back from Megatron.
"That stupid lizard!" Rattrap cried, his emotions fluctuating wildly back and forth between dread, outrage, confusion and panic. "I knew I shouldn't ov' trusted her not ta do something like dis!"
Startled by his father's angry yell, Switchblade woke with a start and gave a long keening wail of distress.
Rattrap couldn't spare any time to calm his son, and dashed from the room as quickly as he could. The sparkling's cries echoed down the long metal halls all the way back to the crew's sleeping quarters. Rattrap skid to a stop in front of one of the doors and frantically pounded on it with the side of his fist.
Come on, come on, come on, I don't have time ta wait, he chanted, almost dancing in place with agitation.
Switchblade was still squirming and chirping angrily in his audio when Airazor finally opened the door several moments later. "Rattrap?" the flier muttered. Her optics were still half-glazed with sleep and her feathers mussed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Can you watch Switch fer me?" he blurted out without any kind of introduction. He desperately held the screaming sparkling out for her to take. "Please. Yer da only one I trust with him an' der's something really important I have to take care of."
"I - ah, yes, of course," Airazor said, finally taking Switchblade from him with a confused look. The sparkling almost instantly quieted. With a whimpered chirp, he curled against her breastplate and tucked his head under her chin. "But what's going on that you have to-?"
"No time ta explain," Rattrap said, already turning away from the door. "But let's just say I got a bad feelin' dat Bronto Brain is about ta do something really stupid…"
Dinobot scouted around the side of large volcanic rock, making sure to keep her body low to the ground. She had no desire to be spotted by unwanted eyes. Several hundred feet away in the distance, the Darksyde sat perched above a concentric series of active lava flows like a hulking black carrion bird of death. For the last thirty klicks she'd been watching the ship but hadn't seen any sign of Predacon movement anywhere in the surrounding area. The warrioress's optics narrowed, her facial plates pinching together in a troubled expression. This wasn't right. Even if Megatron had his entire crew sequestered onboard, she still should have been able to see some sign of activity through the ship's windows. Yet since arriving she'd seen no sign of any patrol groups coming or going, stationed guards or even signs of heightened security from the Darksyde's automated defenses. For all intents and purposes the ship appeared deserted.
The warrioress growled deep under her breath. Something wasn't right. Megatron should be there. With both gold disks the warlord had to be in the process of putting whatever he was planning into action. Unless… Megatron was already on the move. That would explain the lack of movement onboard the Predacons' warship and the eerie absence of any resistance to her approach. Gripping her sword tighter, Dinobot rose off her knees into a low crouch. She had to try and get closer to see if she could find any clues as to what Megatron was planning. Now that Megatron had both gold disks, there was no saying how he might use them.
Just as the raptor was about to dart out from behind her cover towards the next nearest bolder, however, the soft but frighteningly deadly click of a blaster gun being cocked directly behind her made Dinobot instinctively freeze in place.
"Ha ha ha!" an odiously familiar voice cackled behind her. "It would appear Megatron was right to leave me behind to keep a lookout on the ship for any unwanted visitors. He had a feeling you'd eventually come sneaking around for that gold disk you lost. You always were such a poor loser."
"Tarantulas," Dinobot snarled with no small amount of loathing in her voice.
The deranged scientist chuckled, setting Dinobot's neural sensors on edge. "Drop your sword," he ordered. He took a step closer and pressed the barrel of his blaster against the back of Dinobot's helm.
With a deep growl, the warrioress reluctantly did as she was ordered. Her sword clattered to the soft volcanic ground with a dull thud.
Tarantulas laughed in triumph and pressed his gun harder to the back of Dinobot's head. The warrioress grit her teeth against the sharp sting of pressure.
"I suppose I shouldn't even bother asking why you came here, should I?' Tarantulas asked.
"No," Dinobot snarled. "It is no secret that I came to stop Megatron from doing whatever it is he is planning with those gold disks."
Tarantulas gave a nasty twitter. The blaster pressed against Dinobot's head shook with the force of his amusement. "As you might have noticed, Megatron is no longer here. You are already too late. He left hours ago along with everyone else."
"What is he planning?" Dinobot demanded. One of Tarantulas's many weaknesses was his habit to gloat whenever he thought he had the upper hand. If she could just keep him talking she might be able to find out everything she needed to know without having to dirty her sword or break onboard the Predacon ship.
Just as expected, the scientist was more than eager to explain the layout of her former commander's plans. "As you've probably already figured out since that quantum surge almost a year ago, this is planet Earth. Megatron's calculations were correct despite our initial belief that we'd landed on the wrong planet. Assuming your history is up to date you might remember that Earth is where the last few deciding battles of the Great War were fought between the Autobots and our own ancestors the Decepticons."
"Of course I remember my history," Dinobot spat. "Planet Earth was where the Decepticons, led by the original Megatron, were finally defeated by Optimus Prime and the Autobots and forced into the second-class status Predacons today still suffer. You've told me nothing so far I didn't already know or figured out myself. Tell me how Megatron is planning to use those gold disks."
Tarantulas cackled softly through his air vents, obviously enjoying the female warrior's confusion. "What you forget from your history lessons is that the Autobots were not alone in their fight against the Decepticons. They were aided by the native inhabitants of this planet, the humans. Without their help it is very possible the Autobots never would have won the Great War."
"What are you saying?" Dinobot said, turning her head just enough to look at Tarantulas out of the corner of her optic. "That Megatron plans to somehow use the disks to change the outcome of the Great War?"
"Precisely," Tarantulas crooned. "By studying the gold disks, Megatron has discovered that history as we know it is not static. It is changeable. Extremely changeable, actually. Just the smallest disruption can change the entire course of history as we know it. At this current point in Earth's known timeline, humans are little more than half-evolved apes that walk around on their knuckles and communicate through inarticulate grunts. Megatron has tracked the early humans to a particular valley several hundred miles from here and plans to exterminate them before they ever get the chance to evolve and cause trouble for the Decepticons when the Great War breaks out several million years from now."
Dinobot knelt on the rocky ground, stunned speechless by everything Tarantulas had just said. Megatron was planning to change the very course of history as they knew it. This was beyond anything she'd originally feared. This went beyond Megatron simply defeating the Maximals and returning to Cybertron to build an army and start a second war. This was something that would affect countless lives over untold numbers of generations - and in this particular case wipe an entire species from the pages of history.
"This cannot happen," Dinobot murmured. "Megatron cannot be allowed to succeed. There is no way anyone can say what will happen for sure if the timeline is altered in such a way."
"Hm, I suppose you're right, but at this point it doesn't matter," Tarantulas said with a derisive laugh. "Megatron is already miles away by now and there is nothing you can do to catch up to him."
"Oh really?" Dinobot said; then in a single move too fast for Tarantulas to even realize what was happening, the warrioress surged to her pedes and lunged at the startled arachnid with a fearsome battle cry. Tarantulas didn't even have time to squeeze off a round before his gun was brutally batted out of his hand by the raptor's fist, grabbed by the throat and slammed upright against the bolder Dinobot had originally been hiding behind.
Frantically clawing at the vice-like fingers suddenly choking off the fluid lines in his neck, Tarantulas stared up at Dinobot in unmasked terror.
Dinobot slowly leaned closer to stare him in the optics. "What direction is this valley the early humans reside in?" she asked in a dangerously calm voice. She eased her grip on Tarantulas's throat just enough for him to answer.
"T-to the northeast!" the arachnid gasped. "Sector Psi-beta 7! Coordinates 27-89-03! But like I said, Megatron is already half a day ahead of you. You'll never catch up to him!"
Dinobot frowned. If Tarantulas was telling the truth about how much of a lead Megatron had, she had very little chance of being able to catch up with him before he reached the valley. Her raptor form was fast, but not nearly fast enough to cover that kind of distance in the time she had. If only she had wheels. With a wheeled mode like Rattrap's she could cover that distance in a few hours. She still remembered when he'd carried her on his back back to base after her first fight with Talon. The trip had been mostly a blur due to the amount of fluid loss she'd been suffering, but…
Dinobot glanced back at Tarantulas with a new look of consideration. An evil smile slowly spread across her face. The arachnid didn't seem to like the gleam in the warrioress's optics and instinctively cowered back from her against the rock, his body hunkered and radiating fear.
"Your beast-mode has a wheeled alt-mode, doesn't it?" she asked, already aware of the answer.
The scientist gave a timid nod.
"Then I think I just found my ride," she said with a devilish smirk.
Several minutes later found the two speeding away - Dinobot perched on the top of Tarantulas' back with the barrel of his own gun pressed to the back of his head…
Please Review! Any thoughts on Dinobot's goodbye scenes?