Author's note: All characters are copyright their respective creators. I do not own Transformers and I am not affiliated with Hasbro or Takara, Mainframe or Alliance, nor should any affiliation be inferred, implied or assumed. Enjoy the fic. Historian's note: "Indeterminate Timeframe" events occur shortly after Aftermath, following the Coming of the Fuzors, and before "Other Visits". G1-set chapters take place shortly before Transformers: the Movie, dates as given.

Year of the Snake- Part 3

**Earth: Indeterminate Timeframe
"So," Copper hissed, nearing his quarry, "we meet again..." He'd hovered above her in the trees for a good ten minutes, waiting for her to make that one false step... the one wrong move that would allow him to drop the hammer, leaping upon Pantera with great furor. This was what he was programmed for: destroy her by whatever means necessary.
"I'm sorry, Arty," Copper whispered, dropping silently from the trees and transforming- stealth mode engaged- to bring weapons to bear.
He was not silent enough.
"You really need to work on your lightfootedness," Pantera chortled, elbowing her adversary in the gut. As Copperhead doubled over, gasping, Pantera loaded her elbow for a strike, bringing it down on Copper's cranium with enough force to send the serpent sprawling.
"And you need to work on getting yourself killed easier," Copperhead groaned, getting up. Pantera allowed this, stepping back a few paces to let the ophidian stand.
"I've been trying to kill you for millennia, Artemis, before, during, and after the Great War. Don't you remember Skystryke, of Cybertron? I do recall you bearing one of his legacies. And... before Unicron, a stel or so before, I think, Shockwave sent you to Autobot City, and he sent me after as a failsafe. When you vaped a dozen or so of my troops, on Kiribas... Wormtongue, Scylla, Charybdis... I do believe you did that unaided, as well, if I'm not mistaken."
"Parseltongue, you bastard." Pantera's optics narrowed to slits, her hand cannon trained at Copperhead's forehead.
"My forebears were legally bonded, thank you." Copperhead placed his hands behind his back with a smirk.
"You were working under that... charlatan! Shockwave had no business running Cybertron in Megatron's absence... Hell, MEGATRON had no business running Cybertron."
"I agree with you there... if it hadn't been for my brothers, I definitely would have crossed over."
"Your brothers?" Pantera's eyes opened a bit. "Crazy."
"Artemis, if I were crazy, I wouldn't... oh wait, yes I would." Copperhead spread his arms, exposing his spark chamber. "Shoot me, get it over with. Kill me and I'll stop hunting you."
Artemis, much to Copperhead's surprise, called his bluff, firing off a shot from her hand cannon straight into Copper's midsection, missing his spark completely. The snake-bot crumpled to the ground, the wound smoking. "Dammit, Arty..."
"Listen, whoever you are," she said, turning to walk into the forest, "it's bad planning to let yourself get slagged."
==No== Copperhead chuckled inside Pantera's mind, ==It's distinctively good planning, and you've fallen for it twice!==
With a swift kick to her head, an electrical jolt to her midsection, and a psychic shunt to her brain keeping her from screaming or calling for help, Copperhead had his quarry. Trussed her up like a hog, slung her over her back like a hobo's pack, and was off.
Off to the ominous, looming black shape in his mind he knew was the home of Megatron and his crew.

* * *


Speaking of Megatron, the immense, goldcopper and royal purple Tyrannosaur, in his love for the bath, had fallen asleep. His rubber duck- artifact of a civilization verboten to his kind- was clenched within his fist as he dozed. While the dragon slept, so to speak, his lieutenants schemed. Tarantulas, ever the bastard, who normally kept his distance during the tyrant's waking, now found the time to scavage the computer's databanks, yanking whatever he could from them to promote his own schemes.
As the spider prowled the computers, he heard a slight splash, followed by a thump. Waspinator returning, no doubt, to a warm CR tank bath. Tarantulas disregarded the idiotic insect and returned to his work.
"Looking for something?" rang a feminine voice from the doorway. Tarantulas, previously dangling from the roofbeams, using each of his eight legs to type, leapt up, startled.
"Damnation, moth, your kind is supposed to be my prey, yet every day you seem to get the jump on me. Why is that? Perhaps you have hidden in those succulent compound eyes," the spider rambled, poking a mandible at Sin's chestplate, where her moth head rested in robot form, "some sort of device to hide you from proximity sensors. Megatron would be pleased to find that his..." the Spider could not hide his disdain, and unlseashed it in a rolling, manic chuckle, "...most loyal servant... has new technology for him."
"Is it really any of your business, leggings?" the hunter moth asked in return, sweeping the transmetallic spider aside. "Get out of here before I have TORCH slag you for disobeying Megatron's orders... OR I could just wake the Lord up right now. I bet he'd be more than happy to vape you himself."
"Your treachery knows no limits, flameflyer." Tarantulas's legs clicked as he stalked up the energon line. "Have it your way, but next we meet it shall be on my terms."
"I look forward to it," Sin snarled, her rage bubbling. As the spider departed, Sin opened the CR tank's controls. "Readout on units Waspinator and Katana please."
TORCH- the new computer system Sin had installed following the... purge... of her secondary personality- responded.
-=Waspy never takes too long, you know that. I don't even know why you bother dunking him in the first place. As for Katana, he's pretty badly slashed up. That Maximal took a big bite, you're lucky you got back in time.=-
"TORCH, cut the lecture and give me a status report, dammit."
-=Whatever you say, sister. 40% reconstruction to left brachial unit. Looks like it was hacked off.=-
"It was. New guy, too, hadn't seen him before. Vicious fighter, hopefully won't have to go up against him," Sin replied. "If'n I do, shouldn't be hard to drop and top." Sin cracked a slight smile.
-=You take too much of your abilities for granted, sis, know that?=-
"Nah." Sin switched the computer's focus from CR status to a schematics reader. "Got some good suveillance footage on the way to that pod," Sin said. "Oh, put a message in Megatron's inbox that I had to cut short the construction of the jamming tower: new Maximal pod and all."
-=Atom-ass won't like hearing that. It's been a month since we got a new one, and the Maxies have had three podfalls in the last week.=-
"Really, a month? How come I'm reading four podfalls, then?"
-=Seriously, four?=- TORCH asked, clearly surprised that she hadn't remembered that.
"Yeah... subaustralian ridge, Cyr-Vig sector, two days ago. Hmm... looks like the sensors just got word of it a few megacycles ago." Sin looked around, making sure the door to Megatron's bedchamber was still secured. "Wanna go take a look? Get Calamity and Intrigue on the comm."
-=Channel open.=-
"Little sisters, wanna go on a trip?"
//What kinda trip, Squishy?\\ Calamity's voice crackled through the laser-comm.
"Looks like snakes," Sin replied, rechecking the pod's records. "Yep, definitely snakes. Ooh, this one's a mean cuss too. Fangrel of Echelon Zeta."
//Fangy's here?!\\ Intrigue yipped, voice overflowing with joy.
"You know him?"
//Hell yes, Squish!\\ Intrigure replied. //He was only the best spy Echelon Zeta ever had! He was on the Axalon?\
"No!" Sin replied, surprised. "One of the DS pods. Thought they'd all been retrieved. TORCH, how come he's not in the crew roster?"
TORCH didn't respond. She'd gone into sleep mode. Damned computer, always shutting off when she was needed. Not particularly useful in a pinch. Of course, it wasn't as if Sin didn't want to just yank TORCH's programming out of the Darkside's computer... no, it wasn't that easy. It was a long story, and Sin hated thinking of it.
"Something secret and terribly clandestine," Sin smiled, tongue placed firmly in cheek. "Bet it's cool."
//Where is he?\\ Intrigue transmitted.
"Transmitting coordinates. I'll meet you two halfway."
//Sure, Squish.\
By the Pit, Sin hated when her sisters called her Squish. It was yet another of those annoying things about her sisters Sin despised. No matter, she thought to herself as she transformed, they'll get fixed.


The sky darkened as night fell, Copperhead found himself sitting beneath the tree, savoring the moment. Every few moments, Pantera would move, or moan, and the Predacon would jab her with his electro-prod or psionically jolt her core processor, putting her back into submission. "Just gotta find a place to kill you. You heard me, Arty, I have to kill you. I really don't WANT to do it, but I'm under orders. Yeah, yeah, orders can be disobeyed, but you remember what Shockwave tried doing way back when..." Copper stopped, hearing something in the underbrush nearby.
"Animal, vegetable or mineral, Arty?" he asked the unconscious jaguar-bot next to him. "You don't know? What kind of master Decepticon spy are you?" Copper blew air between his lips, vibrating them, before groaning his way to his feet. "Who's out there?" he called, readying a psychic surprise and a physical attack if there was an enemy.
The rustling in the bushed grew louder, then a metallic purple claw, and another, two more, appeared from the brush.
"By the pit," Copperhead muttered to himself, zeroing in on the mental signature coming from the purple claws. "Slanderspinner..."
"Slanderspinner," a voice echoed in an unsettling chuckle. "Nobody without a deathwish calls me that..."
"You always thought I was morbid, Spinner," Copperhead replied.
"Fangrel," the spider hissed, shocked. "I would have thought that deathwish was fulfilled years ago..."
"Yeah, well... you didn't check the roster on the Darkside, did you?"
"No... and you are the second to remind me of that fact in as many megacycles... what brings you here?"
Copperhead pointed to the sack of 'bot at his side. "An old wound that needs ointment, Spinner."
"Call me Tarantulas.."
"Oh, brilliant new dez, Tarantulas... Where'd you find that one? Back of a cereal box?"
"Silence, bellycrawler!" Tarantulas hissed. Copperhead snorted, obviously finding humor in the spider's obvious tactical disadvantage. Tarantulas was, despite the obvious Transmetallization, not designed to fight. His beast form was too cumbersome. Too many legs to get plucked off, too few weapons. "Terrorize!" the low-slung silver and black spider hissed, leaping into the air and folding into a robot.
"Not bad," Copperhead smirked. "Not bad at all, Spin."
Tarantulas's monoptic visor narrowed with distaste. "Do you want to be slagged?" he asked, pulling out his razor wheeled blaster.
"Calm down, sparky, or you're gonna hurt somebody," the serpent snickered. "Give me a hand with..." Copper waved his hand, indicating the unconscious bundle, "...this. I don't exactly remember why, but I'm supposed to take this to Megatron."
"Megatron... what would that fool want with a pile of Maximal parts?"
"Not exactly parts, Tarantulas," Copperhead chortled, "A Maximal elder."
The golden monoptic shot from a narrow sliver to as round as the sun. "Oh... how... interesting," the spider replied, vainly trying to hide his glee. "Which one? Steeljaw? Magnus Hawksbill? It's not... dare I say... Liosolarius?"
"None of the above... she and I go back quite some time."
"She..." Tarantulas's optic flashed, as if he was blinking in disbelief. "Pantera?"
"Out cold and in my fangs..." Copperhead hissed joyously. "Show me the way to the Darkside?"
"What's in it for me?" Tarantulas cackled.
"Half your usual fee... a finder's fee, so to speak. Find me Megatron, I pay you." Copperhead was already dropping to the ground, scales wrapping around his body as he reverted to beast mode.
"That is reasonable." Tarantulas's chestplate swung out, his shoulder-pads moving down to merge, forming a wheel. The razor-wheel Tarantulas used as a weapon pinned itself between Tarantulas's legs, his head folding back into the neck armor. Moments passed, and Tarantulas was no longer a spider nor a robot: this robot disguised itself as a motorcycle. Copperhead hefted the still form of Pantera and lay it across Tarantulas's broad paddle-shaped abdomen.
"Fold your forelegs back and secure her," Copper ordered, and Tarantulas, well aware he was outgunned in vehicular mode, complied. "There... stable?"
"Seemingly... I've carried bigger bots than she without hindrance." Tarantulas's rear wheel spun slightly in the damp ground, but the cycle-spider pushed forward after a few moments. Soon, Copperhead slithering behind at top speed, the two were off to the Darkside.

**Tokyo, 2003
"Celestimus!" Skyhook called, rushing out from the hangar. "Thank Primus you're here... the new-bots are nipping at my heels and I'm this close to the end of my rope..."
The quiet Prime looked at his tiny companion and shook his head.
"You have no idea how much this helps," she chattered as they walked down the hall, he, stalking in long strides; she, scrambling to keep up, breaking into a near-run in many places. "Arcee sent word from Autobot City in the 'states that she'd been having personnel problems, and she nearly went through the roof when I told her you hadn't arrived yet to help with the dedication..."
Prime remained silent. This might be construed by those not close to Prime as being rude or cold, but Skyhook, and the rest of Celestimus's senior staff, knew better.
Long ago, the great shuttle Celestimus Prime had been fought a battle so lopsided against his favor that in the months and years following, Celestimus spoke not one word. It was teracycles before he said the smallest of words. Teracycles still passed before he spoke in single sentence communications with those closest to him. The healing process was, as always, slow and tedious, and despite those who'd say it was especially painful for them, the pain was tremendous for Celestimus, and comparably immense for the Autobots stationed at Tokyo Base.
"Attention Autobot City, this is Tokyo Base. Celestimus Prime is ready to transmit."
**Understood, Tokyo Base** the comm crackled back. **Ready to receive**
"Good hearing your vocoder again, Blaster," Skyhook chuckled into the mic. "When're you gonna take a trip across the Pacific and see me?"
**When Ultra Magnus lets go of my ball bearings for a microsecond. Ready to send?**
"Affirmative. Commander, they're ready."
Celestimus nodded and stepped quietly to the communications panel. Momentarily, the image of a thousand or so Cybertronians appeared on the screen and Celestimus began speaking.
"I am a bot of few words," he began slowly, shakily, still feeling extremely uncomfortable about the entire thing. "But when... Ultra Magnus asked me to speak..." Celestimus continued, pausing often. "I couldn't refuse the chance..."
His diction began strengthening as his pace picked up. "To welcome the architects and technicians behind the greatest engineering feat in Autobot history. Congratulations, North-Am, you've done Cybertron a great service. Enjoy your rest, you've earned it."
Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd and Prime stepped back, video screen dimming. Optics wide, Skyhook flung herself on the commander, hugging and kissing his faceplate. "That was amazing, Commander!" she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What did it?"
"I saw all my comrades... the Autobots were waiting... for me..." Prime's voice was not higher than a whisper now as he explained himself to his lieutenant. "It was... an epiphany. The troops I lost at Nekhrid Seven... they died in vain... they were disarmed, they surrendered, but they were slaughtered..." Prime's optics shut tightly, trying to block the memory, but it still came to his mind, "but they also died so that I could live-- to help bring peace to Cybertron."
Skyhook smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. "As long as you know Primus has his plan for you..."
"He didn't have to tell me so like that, though," Celestimus replied gravely.
"Primus moves in mysterious ways, commander," Skyhook replied. "We've got work to do, Prime... shall we go?" Skyhook extended her delicate hand, which Prime took. Hand in hand, the two best friends exited the control room.
Scowling to himself as they left stood Parseltongue, telepathically invisible to every sensor. Nekhrid Seven played over in his mind...

End of Part 3: Stay Tuned for Part 4!