Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 5)
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D
(Part 7)
Planet fall. Mara watched from the co-pilot's chair. Charr loomed towards them like a mass of scar tissue being magnified as the ship descended. Still, she was home. That thought caught her by surprise. Home? That was a concept she hadn't attached to any place before.
When the ship landed Cyclonus boarded accompanied by a pair of sweeps, their weapons drawn. Cyclonus was surprises to see ThunderCracker, saying "you function!" He had seen the sweep fall and had assumed him off-line by now. No matter, Cyclonus turned to Mara. "Come," he ordered, "Galvatron is waiting for you."
Mara rose obediently. Seeing that ThunderCracker intended to go with her, she shook her head, telling him, ~stay and help unload the cargo. I'll be fine.~ ThunderCracker sat back down acceding to her request.
Escorted to Galvatron's chambers, Mara felt nervousness in her. The sweeps, still had their weapons at the ready, and they reminded her of the times that her uncle would embrace her by having her drug back like this every time she ran away. As they came though the entrance, Galvatron met them halfway, wordless in his livid rage, he slapped her roughly with the back of his hand.
This was the kind of treatment she was used to. She didn't fight back, rather allowed herself to crumple under the weight of the blow. It was a ploy in emphasis of the pretence of power he held over her, to admit she was weaker than he was. Considering the circumstances, she guessed that Cyclonus had told Galvatron of her disobedience to him.
~I apologize, Lord. I only engaged the enemy to ensure our mission.~ She projected in her defense, keeping her optics averted to the floor. She was preparing herself for more abuse.
"Do you deny attacking a comrade? Of slagging him?" Galvatron demanded.
~The sweep would have denied me the pleasure of making my own kill. I have already made amends by restoring the Sweep to peak function.~
Galvatron turned to Cyclonus, angered at missing this vital piece of information, "is this true?" he asked.
"It is, the sweep was fully operational and with her when I fetched her for you." Cyclonus replied, feeling the scorn of his leader.
Galvatron scowled at his second. "Leave me!" It was unlike Cyclonus to behave like this, to withhold information. Galvatron was disappointed with his second. Cyclonus bowed his head, saying, "as you command, Galvatron."
Galvatron settled onto his throne, reminding Mara of an eagle, as she allowed her head to rise finally. "Tell me Mara, did you enjoy killing an Autobot?" he asked her, as if none of the violence from earlier had past between them.
~I did not have a chance to kill the Autobot, Lord. The transport had broken free and the sweep needed immediate attention. I wasn't about to disobey orders for no reason.~ Mara replied. Not telling him that there was something more.
"No matter," Galvatron said dismissing the topic. "You, give me an assessment of the supplies acquired."
~We did not achieve the goal,~ Mara projected flatly, ~only a third of what was needed was gained.~ She lowered her head in apology. Galvatron listened thoughtfully. Her response matched Cyclonus' almost word for word, without excuses or blaming any one person, including herself as a responsible member or the party. A thin smile crossed Galvatron's lips, this creature came close to earning his respect; regretful she was female...
***
(Part 8)
WhirlBlade, a relatively youthful 'Bot. Tall for his rank, his slight build added the illusion of greater height from a distance. He was sleek and lanky, with dynamic angles and a glossy jetblack hide, this combined with tao-ish green optics, full of mystical humor, gave him the uncanny resemblance of a black cat.
He lounged back in a conference chair, his crossed legs perched on the tabletop, and his arms rested behind his head. Though any observer would have claimed otherwise, he was anything but relaxed. His chest still ached, and he felt stifled because he was banned from the ecstasy of flight. His usually jovial and lighthearted personality had been dampened, a mere shadow of what he once was, not so long ago.
Buster also was a shell, eaten out with guilt and worry, longing for the contact of his other self. WhirlBlade casually looked down at his life partner, able to read him as well as he could read himself. He knew that Buster needed reassurance.
"Hi Buster," the Autobot greeted warmly, a roguish ghost of a smile playing on his mouth. Buster looked up at the robot. WhirlBlade sat up and grimaced. Anxiety branded on Buster's countenance, as he rushed over to the Bot.
"I'm okay, really!" WhirlBlade protested with a chuckle, "it only hurts when I laugh!"
Buster gave a wane smile, finding it hard to be amused when he had other things on his mind. WhirlBlade's optics narrowed in resignation, losing the sparkle of laughter. If Buster couldn't enjoy the joke, how could he? Two minds, of one soul, the emotions of one affected the other.
It was though this link that WhirlBlade comprehended Buster's anger and regret. Soberly, WhirlBlade thought of what Buster had sacrificed for their link. Over the years, despite the Bot's encouragement to the contrary, Buster had estranged himself from the females of his species. Because he couldn't resolve within himself the idea that he could be emotionally connected to the Bot and still have a relationship with a woman.
Thus depriving himself of a family -- a deeply painful feeling of lack held in the deepest recesses of his heart. This concept had twisted itself, anchoring him with guilt over Mara's death. The acute awareness that Sarai could never have any other children made it all the more poignant. WhirlBlade was responsible by circumstance, Buster by association.
"Why don't you talk to Sarai?" WhirlBlade prompted.
"Why don't you!?" Buster snapped, defensively.
"I'm secure with what happened. I know I did my best for the girl. It is you who seek reconciliation." WhirlBlade said calmly.
Buster struggled with himself, "I ... can't."
"You mean you won't."
"No! I can't!"
WhirlBlade frowned, Buster reminded him of a skittish petro-rabit -- wanting the offered energon treat, but fearing the hand that held it. He said, "Reality isn't as harsh as your imagination. If you never tell Sarai, you will always feel her anger."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"It's not really a question of knowing as much as it is believing it," WhirlBlade pointed out. Buster fell silent. The Bot continued, "this is a battle only you can win," WhirlBlade's hand came to rest over his healing fuel capacitor, as he continued, "if nothing else, Buster, accept that I support you." The Autobot lapsed into silence himself. Feeling Buster's pain, he had to fight himself to do more to help his other self. Ultimately, if stripped of his burden, it would weaken the tinsel strength of Buster's soul, the soul they shared in life and death. Something that WhirlBlade couldn't afford if it conditioned Buster to be anything less than what he could be.
***
(Part 9)
Mara gazed at the blistered vista of Charr. The day was glaring and hazy, actually good weather by Charrian standards. She wondered what time it was on Earth. It felt like a lifetime had past between her realities. Refocusing on her home, the ravaged planet, and its inhabitants.
She had pondered on how to alleviate the desperate situation of her home, her family. In a breath taking moment of revelation, the clouds parted and she had to shield her optics from the brilliance of the sun. The sun -- she realized, solar power. Not land based, the caustic rains would destroy any collectors. Surely orbital ones would work if the energy were broadcast down to capacitors secured in the Decepticon citadel. It would work with her foster-uncle's help. Sure that she could secure Charlie's aid. There was one other detail to cover: And he was approaching now.
"You asked me come..." ThunderCracker said, as he joined her. Her summons had been cryptic, and had puzzled him exceedingly, but he came. Not out of curiosity, he left that to the 'thinking types,' it was out of his sense of loyalty and debt that he ventured out.
~Look up,~ she gestured to the sky, as she spoke with him, ~it is tedious, and shameful that we, a proud race, must scroung to just survive. Would it not be better to restore our self-sufficience?~ Mara asked, injecting his subconscious with possibilities, carving a web with which his intuition could connect the clues.
His optics widened as he sky-gazed, he grasped the concept in the context she had played upon. "Solar collectors! It could end the dishonor..." He paused, turning to her. Her optics were still aimed heavenward.
~Surely Galvatron would reward such perception from a warrior.~
ThunderCracker studied Mara in disbelief. Not only had she had freed him of the Dark Gourger, but was now handing him a powerful leverage that would aid him in the political in-fighting of the Decepticon hierarchy. He didn't want to take this precious gift from her, it could only be used once. He was satisfied with his freedom. "Galvatron should hear of this," he agreed, giving her a chance to reclaim the idea as her own.
~Hurry, ThunderCracker. Go tell him! There is no time like the present.~ She reaffirmed the gift as his, refusing to take it back. She had, in a way birthed him anew, and felt maternal towards the sweep. She knew she couldn't protect him, but she could give him a way to secure himself.
The reverence ThunderCracker felt for her multiplied ten-fold. "Thank you,' he murmured, embarrassed that he lacked the eloquence to truly express his gratitude.
~For what?~ She asked, feigning innocence.
He made no reply, as he left, swearing privately that he would find a way to repay his benefactress. Mara watched him, a smile of satisfaction slipping through her guard.
***
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D
(Part 7)
Planet fall. Mara watched from the co-pilot's chair. Charr loomed towards them like a mass of scar tissue being magnified as the ship descended. Still, she was home. That thought caught her by surprise. Home? That was a concept she hadn't attached to any place before.
When the ship landed Cyclonus boarded accompanied by a pair of sweeps, their weapons drawn. Cyclonus was surprises to see ThunderCracker, saying "you function!" He had seen the sweep fall and had assumed him off-line by now. No matter, Cyclonus turned to Mara. "Come," he ordered, "Galvatron is waiting for you."
Mara rose obediently. Seeing that ThunderCracker intended to go with her, she shook her head, telling him, ~stay and help unload the cargo. I'll be fine.~ ThunderCracker sat back down acceding to her request.
Escorted to Galvatron's chambers, Mara felt nervousness in her. The sweeps, still had their weapons at the ready, and they reminded her of the times that her uncle would embrace her by having her drug back like this every time she ran away. As they came though the entrance, Galvatron met them halfway, wordless in his livid rage, he slapped her roughly with the back of his hand.
This was the kind of treatment she was used to. She didn't fight back, rather allowed herself to crumple under the weight of the blow. It was a ploy in emphasis of the pretence of power he held over her, to admit she was weaker than he was. Considering the circumstances, she guessed that Cyclonus had told Galvatron of her disobedience to him.
~I apologize, Lord. I only engaged the enemy to ensure our mission.~ She projected in her defense, keeping her optics averted to the floor. She was preparing herself for more abuse.
"Do you deny attacking a comrade? Of slagging him?" Galvatron demanded.
~The sweep would have denied me the pleasure of making my own kill. I have already made amends by restoring the Sweep to peak function.~
Galvatron turned to Cyclonus, angered at missing this vital piece of information, "is this true?" he asked.
"It is, the sweep was fully operational and with her when I fetched her for you." Cyclonus replied, feeling the scorn of his leader.
Galvatron scowled at his second. "Leave me!" It was unlike Cyclonus to behave like this, to withhold information. Galvatron was disappointed with his second. Cyclonus bowed his head, saying, "as you command, Galvatron."
Galvatron settled onto his throne, reminding Mara of an eagle, as she allowed her head to rise finally. "Tell me Mara, did you enjoy killing an Autobot?" he asked her, as if none of the violence from earlier had past between them.
~I did not have a chance to kill the Autobot, Lord. The transport had broken free and the sweep needed immediate attention. I wasn't about to disobey orders for no reason.~ Mara replied. Not telling him that there was something more.
"No matter," Galvatron said dismissing the topic. "You, give me an assessment of the supplies acquired."
~We did not achieve the goal,~ Mara projected flatly, ~only a third of what was needed was gained.~ She lowered her head in apology. Galvatron listened thoughtfully. Her response matched Cyclonus' almost word for word, without excuses or blaming any one person, including herself as a responsible member or the party. A thin smile crossed Galvatron's lips, this creature came close to earning his respect; regretful she was female...
***
(Part 8)
WhirlBlade, a relatively youthful 'Bot. Tall for his rank, his slight build added the illusion of greater height from a distance. He was sleek and lanky, with dynamic angles and a glossy jetblack hide, this combined with tao-ish green optics, full of mystical humor, gave him the uncanny resemblance of a black cat.
He lounged back in a conference chair, his crossed legs perched on the tabletop, and his arms rested behind his head. Though any observer would have claimed otherwise, he was anything but relaxed. His chest still ached, and he felt stifled because he was banned from the ecstasy of flight. His usually jovial and lighthearted personality had been dampened, a mere shadow of what he once was, not so long ago.
Buster also was a shell, eaten out with guilt and worry, longing for the contact of his other self. WhirlBlade casually looked down at his life partner, able to read him as well as he could read himself. He knew that Buster needed reassurance.
"Hi Buster," the Autobot greeted warmly, a roguish ghost of a smile playing on his mouth. Buster looked up at the robot. WhirlBlade sat up and grimaced. Anxiety branded on Buster's countenance, as he rushed over to the Bot.
"I'm okay, really!" WhirlBlade protested with a chuckle, "it only hurts when I laugh!"
Buster gave a wane smile, finding it hard to be amused when he had other things on his mind. WhirlBlade's optics narrowed in resignation, losing the sparkle of laughter. If Buster couldn't enjoy the joke, how could he? Two minds, of one soul, the emotions of one affected the other.
It was though this link that WhirlBlade comprehended Buster's anger and regret. Soberly, WhirlBlade thought of what Buster had sacrificed for their link. Over the years, despite the Bot's encouragement to the contrary, Buster had estranged himself from the females of his species. Because he couldn't resolve within himself the idea that he could be emotionally connected to the Bot and still have a relationship with a woman.
Thus depriving himself of a family -- a deeply painful feeling of lack held in the deepest recesses of his heart. This concept had twisted itself, anchoring him with guilt over Mara's death. The acute awareness that Sarai could never have any other children made it all the more poignant. WhirlBlade was responsible by circumstance, Buster by association.
"Why don't you talk to Sarai?" WhirlBlade prompted.
"Why don't you!?" Buster snapped, defensively.
"I'm secure with what happened. I know I did my best for the girl. It is you who seek reconciliation." WhirlBlade said calmly.
Buster struggled with himself, "I ... can't."
"You mean you won't."
"No! I can't!"
WhirlBlade frowned, Buster reminded him of a skittish petro-rabit -- wanting the offered energon treat, but fearing the hand that held it. He said, "Reality isn't as harsh as your imagination. If you never tell Sarai, you will always feel her anger."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"It's not really a question of knowing as much as it is believing it," WhirlBlade pointed out. Buster fell silent. The Bot continued, "this is a battle only you can win," WhirlBlade's hand came to rest over his healing fuel capacitor, as he continued, "if nothing else, Buster, accept that I support you." The Autobot lapsed into silence himself. Feeling Buster's pain, he had to fight himself to do more to help his other self. Ultimately, if stripped of his burden, it would weaken the tinsel strength of Buster's soul, the soul they shared in life and death. Something that WhirlBlade couldn't afford if it conditioned Buster to be anything less than what he could be.
***
(Part 9)
Mara gazed at the blistered vista of Charr. The day was glaring and hazy, actually good weather by Charrian standards. She wondered what time it was on Earth. It felt like a lifetime had past between her realities. Refocusing on her home, the ravaged planet, and its inhabitants.
She had pondered on how to alleviate the desperate situation of her home, her family. In a breath taking moment of revelation, the clouds parted and she had to shield her optics from the brilliance of the sun. The sun -- she realized, solar power. Not land based, the caustic rains would destroy any collectors. Surely orbital ones would work if the energy were broadcast down to capacitors secured in the Decepticon citadel. It would work with her foster-uncle's help. Sure that she could secure Charlie's aid. There was one other detail to cover: And he was approaching now.
"You asked me come..." ThunderCracker said, as he joined her. Her summons had been cryptic, and had puzzled him exceedingly, but he came. Not out of curiosity, he left that to the 'thinking types,' it was out of his sense of loyalty and debt that he ventured out.
~Look up,~ she gestured to the sky, as she spoke with him, ~it is tedious, and shameful that we, a proud race, must scroung to just survive. Would it not be better to restore our self-sufficience?~ Mara asked, injecting his subconscious with possibilities, carving a web with which his intuition could connect the clues.
His optics widened as he sky-gazed, he grasped the concept in the context she had played upon. "Solar collectors! It could end the dishonor..." He paused, turning to her. Her optics were still aimed heavenward.
~Surely Galvatron would reward such perception from a warrior.~
ThunderCracker studied Mara in disbelief. Not only had she had freed him of the Dark Gourger, but was now handing him a powerful leverage that would aid him in the political in-fighting of the Decepticon hierarchy. He didn't want to take this precious gift from her, it could only be used once. He was satisfied with his freedom. "Galvatron should hear of this," he agreed, giving her a chance to reclaim the idea as her own.
~Hurry, ThunderCracker. Go tell him! There is no time like the present.~ She reaffirmed the gift as his, refusing to take it back. She had, in a way birthed him anew, and felt maternal towards the sweep. She knew she couldn't protect him, but she could give him a way to secure himself.
The reverence ThunderCracker felt for her multiplied ten-fold. "Thank you,' he murmured, embarrassed that he lacked the eloquence to truly express his gratitude.
~For what?~ She asked, feigning innocence.
He made no reply, as he left, swearing privately that he would find a way to repay his benefactress. Mara watched him, a smile of satisfaction slipping through her guard.
***