Author's Notes: First of all, Holy Toledo! This is the first fanfic I've ever written that's been featured in a community here on FF, and it's a sequel to a story that already had a sequel! Wow! This is so cool! Sorry if I'm geeking out, but I just didn't think it would ever happen. Glad to know there are enough Beast Wars fans out there to warrant continuing with this story, and I'll do my best to keep everyone in character while adding something new :)
Anyway, this chapter is important for building up the story in later chapters, but I admit that there isn't really any action in this scene. Given that it's a Beast Wars fic however you can bet there will be lots of action and conflict in future chapters. Thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter of "I Owe You" :)
Chapter 2
The Silent Treatment
Airazor had taken the new femme out for some fresh air and to explore the Maximals' territory while the others researched their visitor on Sentinel to try to figure out who or what they were dealing with. They examined many femmes and femmelings from the time period they were stuck in and from generations before just in case, but so far they had no luck in finding her.
"Does that look like her?" Rattrap asked Rhinox as he pointed to a car-former on the screen.
"No, Rattrap. That femme is currently an adult," Rhinox sighed as he rubbed his forehead; tired from over an hour of trying to locate their new guest in the historical database, "If only we knew what her frame type had been. Maybe then we would know something."
"Why do you think she's mute?" Cheetor asked; mildly concerned for her.
"We don't know that she is mute," Optimus pointed out, "All we know is that she won't speak to us. She could just be scared."
"Or hiding something," Dinobot added suspiciously, "For all we know she could be a spy sent to infiltrate our base. The whole ancient thing could merely be a ploy."
"Hey, you weren't there Chopperface!" Rattrap snapped; affronted for his own sake as much as the femme's, "I saw her! That femme wasn't even recognizable as a femme! She didn't even look alive! I thought we'd already lost her. I'm tellin' ya, she ain't no spy."
"I agree, though I also agree with Dinobot that there may be risks involved in prolonged contact with her," Optimus said gravely, "This femme is clearly a product of this time period. Our continued interaction with her might upset the time stream. We need to know who she is before we can know how to proceed."
"Well, we've eliminated Elita One's squadron and the Spark Stoppers of Kaon," Rhinox reminded them, "We know what she isn't, but we don't know what she is. Frankly, all we know for a fact is that she was accompanied by an Autobot seeker with Predacon upgrades. We could be talking about a treason situation."
"Yeah, but for which side?" Cheetor asked, "It could be an Autobot defecting to the 'Cons in exchange for upgrades, or it could be a former Pred switching sides to protect the sparkling. It could be anything!"
"Hey, what about this one?" Rattrap asked as he showed a picture of a white and black carrier host femme.
"Hm, Zetabyte," Rhinox read off the screen, "A singer from Polyhex that joined the Decepticons after most of the carrier host population was assassinated by Megatron's seeker forces. The historical records have proven that she was a close friend of Soundwave and aided in gathering information for Megatron. She was partly responsible for the deaths of all those innocent hosts due to her sabotage. She was killed by the Autobot warrior Sunstreaker after she and her bondmate Tug tried to flee a recently reclaimed area of Autobot territory."
"So, is this her?" Rattrap asked impatiently.
"While I admit her look is similar, the timeline doesn't add up," Rhinox told him, "Zetabyte would be an adult in this time period, assuming she isn't already dead. Carrier host might be a good candidate for the femme's former frame type though."
The elevator lifted up in that moment and Airazor came in with the kangaroo femme. Airazor looked happy and carefree, but her companion showed no expression on her face plate.
"Fun trip?" Cheetor asked playfully.
"Yeah, I showed her where Tigatron patrols up north," Airazor informed them, "Then we had a picnic, and I showed her how to eat organic matter. She seems to love the little red berries that grow near the lake in Grid Delta."
"So she still ain't sayin' nothin', huh?" Rattrap scoffed, "Figures. You know kid, we wanna help you, but you gotta help yourself first. Maybe start by tellin' us your designation, and maybe let us know who the cadaver is we got in the cargo hold downstairs."
The femme tilted her helm at Rattrap for a second, and then swiftly turned around and got back on the elevator.
"Hey wait!" Rattrap yelled, "You can't go out there alone! Come back!"
Rattrap and Airazor had to wait for the elevator, and then they ordered it to return to its last stop. They went down fearing the femme was trying to escape, only to find that they were in the cargo bay. The femme had come down to see the body.
Airazor suddenly felt like an intruder as she saw that the kangaroo femme was next to the seeker's corpse; tenderly touching its mangled wings and tracing the cracked glass of the cockpit. Rattrap, not having Airazor's social graces, walked up to where the kangaroo was standing and looking up at the grey shell.
"Hey listen, I know you must feel bad about all this, but hangin' onto the past ain't gonna get you nowhere," Rattrap feebly tried to comfort the femme, "You're gonna be alright, trust me. We'll win the Beast Wars and then be on our way back to Cybertron. I don't know what part you're from, but personally I'm lookin' forward to goin' back to Iacon. That's where the action is baby! Bright lights and the big city! Maybe when you get used to things I could show you this little dive I know that serves some of the best Krilayan booze you've ever tasted."
The femme was staring at Rattrap, so he kept talking, but he didn't know if she was really listening or just staring at him for being an idiot. So far she hadn't shown much range of emotion or ability to comprehend. He wondered if maybe her processor had been damaged by whatever hurt her, but he didn't want to give up just yet.
"Say, uh, you never told me where you're from kid," Rattrap not-so-subtly pointed out, "Come on, you can trust ol' Rattrap. Where ya from? Maybe we know some of the same people."
"Rattrap, come on," Airazor sighed as she shook his shoulder guard, "Can't you see she needs a moment to herself? She's still grieving. This seeker was obviously someone important to her. Let's go back up to the bridge, and she can come find us when she's ready."
"Yeah, alright," Rattrap reluctantly agreed, "I just don't think it's healthy to keep everythin' bottled up inside. Talkin' can help."
"Is that why you never shut up?" Airazor teased him.
"Eh, go tell it to your boyfriend Tigatron," Rattrap groused as they made their way to the elevator.
Airazor and Rattrap got on the elevator, and Airazor took one last look through the yellow glass at the kangaroo as she hopped into the glass-riddled cockpit of the dead seeker and settled into one of the dried-out seats. Airazor only hoped that whatever event had sparked this didn't scar the poor creature for life.
Terrabyte watched as the Maximals named Airazor and Rattrap ascended back up to the bridge. She sighed as she situated herself in the worn seat at the front of the cockpit; deciding she would rather sleep here instead of in the guest quarters tonight. She knew this frame was no longer her old friend, but it still made her feel safe to be here.
Terrabyte wasn't used to being the center of attention like this. One of her few precious talents had always been the ability to blend into a crowd so well that no one noticed her. She used that talent to spy for her former orphan gang, the Sigma Sisters, and she had hoped to use that talent to learn more about the Maximals. It wasn't working though. No matter how quiet she was or how careful her movements they never took their optics off her. It was like she was an oddity at a side show or a newly discovered species of animal.
The real problem was communication. To most mechs and femmes communication was the easiest and most logical way to solve most problems. Terrabyte, however, had trouble with simply approaching another Cybertronian and just talking to them. Her spark would constrict in her chassis and her intakes felt like they were filling up with gunk. Her joints would freeze and she would stand stock still. Talking to others filled Terrabyte with a type of phobic dread that didn't really make any sense, but her body reacted as if it were a physical condition.
When she first arrived at the Ark in the year 2000 AD it had made sense for her to be afraid. The Autobots were an unknown entity, her voice was damaged and annoying, and she had three cassette symbiotes to worry about. None of those things were true now. She was alone, her voice was fine, and she knew what the Maximals were and were not capable of. So, why was this so hard?
She needed answers. She needed to know what time period this was and whether or not anyone she cared about was still alive. Q-Boom's spark could have yet survived that explosion even though her empty body was currently surrounding Terrabyte. Honey Venom might have been rescued from her watery grave. Phobia might be an adult by now, maybe have a family of her own like she always wanted. Maybe Sunstreaker and Sideswipe would welcome her home, even though she was a kangaroo. Maybe her symbiotes were still with Blaster. So many questions she needed answers to.
Terrabyte struggled to control her intakes. She inhaled and exhaled several times before she trusted that she could indeed cycle air without locking up. She grabbed a piece of glass and looked at her reflection. She looked weird. She had long ears on top of her helm, and despite having only one robotic servo left she had two animal paws jutting out from her wrists. Her optics, however, had not changed. They were wide, yellow, and haunted by the stellar cycles of neglect and abuse.
Sunstreaker was the only caregiver she ever had that truly loved her as her parents did, and she missed him so much. Despite how terrifying she had found him at first, he actually understood her stubbornness and antisocial nature better than most. Forming a guardian spark bond with him had actually been one of the smartest things she had ever done, because it meant she didn't have to struggle to communicate. They knew each other's feelings immediately, and it made her life so much easier.
Terrabyte wanted her old life back, away from the future and the Maximals. She would find her way home. Not even time and space would stop her from returning to the family and friends she loved.
Optimus Primal was scanning the grid monitor for Predacon activity when he suddenly had the feeling he was being watched. He was sure Rattrap was trying to sneak up and scare him again, or maybe Cheetor. Those young mechs never seemed to get tired of trying to prank Optimus in their off time.
"Alright, I know you're back there," Optimus announced sternly, "It isn't going to work this time. You might as well come on out."
Optimus swiveled in his chair to see who he would find, and he saw that the kangaroo femme was standing beside a console staring at him intently. He tried for a friendly smile in the hopes of putting her at ease, but the truth was he was the one who needed the tension from the air to fade away. Her stare seemed to penetrate his armor and bore into his very spark.
"So...You ever seen a perimeter grid before?" Optimus asked casually in an effort to be polite.
No answer.
"Well then, why don't you come over here and I'll show you how it works," Optimus invited her warmly despite how unsettled he felt by her lack of feedback.
She walked over to where he was without protest, and he began to show her the buttons required to make the grid function and how to read the grid.
"Now here is the grid monitor. These yellow lines are our territory, and these red lines are Predacon territory," Optimus explained patiently; feeling better now that she was looking at the equipment, "This big yellow dot is us, and this little yellow dot in the upper right corner is Tigatron. If there were Predacons in our territory, they would show up as red flashing dots. Understand so far?"
"Altihex."
The word was so abruptly and softly spoken that at first Optimus thought he had imagined it. He looked back at the femme, and she looked back at him.
"Excuse me?" Optimus asked just in case he wasn't hearing things.
"Rattrap asked me where I am from," Terrabyte replied in a soft monotone, "I am from Altihex."
"Um...okay," Optimus replied; unsure how else to respond, "So...May I know your name?"
Terrabyte tried to think of something to say. She didn't want to give the Maximals her real designation. She didn't know whether they favored Autobot or Decepticon ideology, but either way she had a record. She was a born and bred Decepticon, but she tried to kill Megatron. Either way she knew it would be unwise to tell them who she really was. But what name would be best suited for the situation?
"It's alright," Optimus sighed in defeat, "You can tell me when you're ready."
"Bitten," Terrabyte suddenly said before she fully thought through her idea.
"Bitten? Is that your name?" Optimus asked for clarification.
"Yes...my name is Bitten," Terrabyte replied hesitantly.
Optimus accepted it without further questions, and Terrabyte felt temporary relief. She chose the name due to a phrase she had learned on earth that seemed to fit her life: Once bitten, twice shy.
