Night of the Hunter

Chapter 3

"Just relax," came the deep, soothing rumble of Rhinox's voice. Tigatron tried to do as he commanded as the light from the scanner moved across his body. The roving machines pressed in too tightly, setting him on edge. He wanted to break free, to escape and just run across the wide, open spaces - Run, run, run!- but he remained still. Airazor was right. If there was something wrong it was better to know. "Hm," Rhinox hummed as he looked over the readings. "There doesn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. Damaged memory banks, but that's to be expected. The same is true for Airazor, and presumably for Blackarachnia and Inferno, though I doubt we'll ever know for sure with them. The only difference is that your onboard computer appears to have made some repairs, though only partially completed. Most of the neural transmitters in that section of your CPU have been fixed and it looks like some attempt was made on the memory banks themselves before your onboard computer system diagnosed the damage to be too extensive and stopped all efforts."

"What does that mean for me?" Tigatron asked.

"I'm not sure," Rhinox replied with a shrug. "I wouldn't think it would have any effect on you, but my specialty isn't processors so I don't know for sure. I would like to link into your memory bank, however, just to make sure this isn't the cause of the hallucination."

"It still has yet to be determined if it was a hallucination," Tigatron reminded him stiffly.

Rhinox didn't say anything to that, his optics quickly darting back down to look at the readout. "The scanner is going to link up with your processor through the port at the base of your head. Don't worry; you won't feel a thing."

Tigatron forced the tightly coiled springs in his body to relax and let this-

Run!

"Is everything alright?" Rhinox asked, running his optics across the other bot's strained features. "This isn't supposed to be uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," he growled out. "I do not actually feel any physical pain; it's just... I'm fine. Continue on."

Rhinox looked like he was about to protest, but from the determined set of Tigatron's jaw he knew it would be pointless to argue with the bot. Tigatron was cautious and careful, a mech who thought about the consequences of his actions. But he was still warrior. Not even damaged memories could erase the coding that made him such an effective fighter and scout. It ran through his processor, making him into the proud creature he was. Tigatron would not want something as potentially dangerous as a damaged processor hanging over his head. He may fear the outcome of the test, but he would never back down from the truth.

Tigatron tried to ignore the strange feeling that hummed in the back of his head. It was almost like he could hear people whispering, but he couldn't quite understand what they were saying. There were flashes too- a jungle, a grin, brown scaly flesh, a pit.

Tigatron felt himself reeling back as a memory tore through his processor, assalting his senses.

Run, little Maximal! Run, run, run! Your soldiers will be dead before you get there!

"Let's talk about Primus," the Predacon flier stated as he lounged back in his chair. Tigatron glanced at the mech warily. His optics had been damaged during that last round; everything was hazy and out of focus, and it made the light bounce off of the flier's gold armor in such a way that it looked like a halo. "Now you look like a religious sort of bot. Me? I'm a Primacronian. I believe that the Matrix and the Inferno are just metaphors for the factories that built us. But the Omniversalists, now there's an interesting bunch. They've got written in their Covenant of Prime that the Inferno is some sort of hellish dimension that all Decepticons and Predacons are banished to after death, while Autobots and Maximals get to enjoy the paradise in the Matrix and commune with Primus himself. That's hardly fair, is it? I mean, this could be a perfectly good Predacon - good by Maximal standards, at least - always obeys the laws and says his prayers and never, ever goes on a murdering rampage because, well, you know how us Predacons are." The flier gave out a mocking laugh at that. "And instead of getting his reward he gets blasted down into the Pit simply because he happened to be sparked a Predacon. The whole thing is just so utterly ridiculous. Why would Primus even create the Decepticons if they're an inherently evil race? Seems rather pointless, if you ask me, and not a very good use of time management."

"Perhaps he wanted to show us what true evil looked like," Tigatron spat out.

Another mocking laugh and the flier was lazily pulling himself onto his pedes. He circled the Maximal from where he hung suspended from the ceiling. "If you wanted to see evil all you have to do is look in a mirror," the flier retorted. "We've all got darkness in our sparks. Isn't that right, Killer?"

"That's not my name," Tigatron growled out. "It's -" He said something. He could feel his mouth move, the air rushing out, making sounds he couldn't hear. He wanted to say "Tigatron" so badly but he knew within his spark that wasn't the right answer. He wasn't always called Tigatron, that was a name he had chosen for himself. With a sudden jump Tigatron could remember everything that had happened before. Airazor, the Beast Wars, all of it. He looked down at his body, but what greeted him wasn't the familiar white fur and green metal. Instead, he was covered in thick dark purple fur. He still had a beast mode, but it wasn't that of a tiger. What was going on? Was this a lost memory?

The flier smiled. The same flier he had seen in the jungle. It wasn't cruel, not like how it was before, but affectionate and understanding. He reached down and picked up a thin metal rod, twirling it around his digits."No," he agreed. "It's not your name. Killer is what you are."

Suddenly, without warning, the flier rammed the rod through Tigatron's torso. Every circuit felt like it was on fire and he bit back against his cries.

"Thank Primus, he's coming out of it."

Tigatron's optics blearily flickered on and he saw the worried faces of Airazor, Optimus and Cheetor hovering over him. He pushed himself up off the exam table, embarrassed by all the attention. Optimus and Cheetor quickly backed away to give him room, but Airazor remained close to his side, her servo lightly brushing against his arm.

"The probe into your memory banks sent it into an overload," Rhinox stated from where he sat hunched over the report from the diagnostic. "It essentially locked you inside a virtual memory."

"I realized that what I was experiencing wasn't real," Tigatron admitted. "Or, at least, that it had occurred sometime in my past. The Predacon flier that I had seen was there."

"So, it was a hallucination?" Optimus asked. "Well, that's a relief. I'll contact Dinobot and Rattrap and let them know that's one less thing they'll have to worry about while on patrol."

"From the way you looked it must have been one Pit of a memory," Airazor commented. Although she sounded light and untroubled, Tigatron could hear the underlying question in her statement: Are you alright? He had worried her.

"It was," Tigatron confessed. "Although I didn't understand it."

"What happened?" Cheetor asked, eager to hear the details, oblivious at his own insensitivity.

"We should let Rhinox continue with his work," Optimus said pointedly, giving Cheetor a meaningful look. Cheetor grinned sheepishly and began to follow his commander out, lingering in the doorway for Airazor to follow.

"Contact me after Rhinox releases you. I'll meet you by our favorite tree," Airazor promised.

"I'll be there."

Airazor shot him a smirk. "You bet your aft you will."

She reached down and squeezed his servo, leaning in for a kiss only to stop short when she saw Cheetor grinning at them. He gave the pair two thumbs-up and then proceeded to make kissing noises. Airazor rolled her optics and shared a fond smile with Tigatron. "Later," he said. "Without the little one."

Airazor nodded and walked off, playfully shoving Cheetor through the doorway.

As soon as the others were gone Rhinox shook his head and put the electronic pad away. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure where the fault is. It's obvious that there is something wrong with your memory banks, but short of neutralizing the damaged parts completely, I'm not sure what else to do. This sort of work is too delicate for a CR chamber and I can't just go randomly poking about in your processor, trying to find the short."

"Well, what about neutralizing it then?" Tigatron demanded. "If you take out the damaged parts then it wouldn't be a problem."

Rhinox grimaced. "These are your memories. If there is some way to salvage them then I think we should try."

"What I experienced wasn't pleasant," Tigatron replied. "It might be better if I don't remember."

"That was one memory out of decades worth of experiences. You can't judge your whole life on one bad memory."

"This is my life," he insisted. "I feel connected to this planet and its creatures. There is nothing that Cybertron could offer that could replace that."

Rhinox shook his head again. "You don't know that."

Tigatron regarded the mech before him. "Does the Axalon have any files on me?"

"Yes. Optimus was handed copies of all revelent data on his crewmembers before launching. It's not very specific, however. It just lists your qualifications and previous work experience. That sort of thing."

"What did it say about me?"

"Not much. There's not many details. It only states that you had been a scout in the Maximal army, that you had fought the Predacon rebellion on Synthesia and Corsicon and were invalided out. It also says that you were one of the first bots to be given an organic beast mode. Other Cybertronians had had alt modes inspired by organic creatures before- the Dinobots, for example. But they had always been made of metal, only vaguely recognizable as the creatures they were based on."

Tigatron nodded slowly as he processed the information. "The name Corsicon sounds familiar. I think I might have heard Rattrap make a passing reference to it."

Rhinox grimaced. "Both Rattrap and myself were there as well. Originally, we were both in the same company, before Rattrap was assigned to a special task force."

"What happened?"

"It was bad," Rhinox sighed. "A lot of mindless destruction, a lot of deaths, and all of it could have been avoided."

Tigatron gave him a wry smile. "I've had my fill of that. I've already lost Snowstalker, I don't want to remember any more deaths."

"I know after what you just saw that it seems bad, but you might be missing out on something wonderful. At least, just give it a few days to think it over. If you still want to go through with it then I'll remove your damaged memory banks."

Tigatron. "Alright. I'll give it a few days, but I won't change my mind."