Chapter 1

" 'I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but weather there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.' "

~~ Éowyn of Rohan, The Return of the King

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Prehistoric Earth,

Mornings on prehistoric earth were quiet a sight to behold. The air was fresh and crisp, drops of dew could be seen on the leaves, and everything buzzed with the sound of nature. For Blackarachnia, it felt like the first day of her life, and in a way, it was. The day before was full of events. She had died as a Predacon and was then reborn as a Maximal. Life felt kinder to her. After all, everyone, with the exception of Depth Charge, welcomed her back with open arms. Optimus, Cheetor, Rhinox, and even Rattrap seemed genuinely glad to have her back with them. Dinobot seemed more acceptant. As for Silverbolt…

She turned to her right and looked at the other side of their bed. He was gone. Blackarachnia frowned but then remembered.

"Morning patrol," she tapped her forehead and rolled over to look at the chronometer. It was 0530 by military time, so whoever had the night shift would be relieved of it in about half a megacycle. For the sole reason of having something to do, she decided to go down to command and keep whoever-it-was company.

Blackarachnia stretched and got up. Walking over to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror. Without her helmet, her ocean blue hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back far past her shoulder blades. Her optics burnt a crimson flame. Blackarachnia smiled at her reflection. It was so rare that she ever removed her helmet that only Silverbolt had ever seen her without it. As she studied her reflection, Blackarachnia noticed a thin scar right cheek, about three or four centimeters below her optic. She lightly traced it with her finger and frowned. Where did that come from? She couldn't remember any injury that could have caused a scar like that.

Suddenly everything went black before her optics, and there was a flash of bright light. She saw a glowing knife heading for her face at lightening speed, and then the face of a bot who looked frighteningly familiar. Blackarachnia jerked back from the mirror with a start, her fluid pump racing. What in the name of Primus was that? She thought harder, struggling to remember something else, but once the flash ended, it was gone like a bad dream.

Though still a bit concerned, Blackarachnia shrugged it off. If it was important, it would come back to her later. The scar didn't ruin her complexion too badly. Placing her helmet back on and tucking her hair under it, Blackarachnia dressed and headed for command.

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For most bots, staying concentrated on the monitors all night was impossible. Rattrap always dozed off within the first megacycle. Cheetor tended to leave and run around the base. Blackarachnia herself had never been trusted enough for the post. Perhaps the only one who took the job totally seriously was Dinobot. Therefore, Blackarachnia was not surprised to find him staring at the many screens, arms crossed over his torso plate.

"Quiet night?" Dinobot glanced up as she sat down in a chair to his right.

"For some of us more than others," he replied, and she smiled knowingly. "How are you?"

"Why Dinobot, I didn't know you cared," Blackarachnia grinned, but he gave her a scowling look and she dropped the sarcastic expression. "I'm better. I didn't think I could live through yesterday, but I did. Now I feel much better."

The old warrior nodded. "How does it feel to be a Maximal?"

"It…" she paused, looking for the right words. "It's like waking up from some terrifying nightmare and realizing how kind life is. So I'm finally awake. Silverbolt was right: I did need to find myself. But don't worry; it doesn't mean I' about to turn into some goody-two-shew I'm still me, even more than before. What about you?"

"Considering I am once again the only Predacon within the Maximal ranks, I am well enough."

Blackarachnia sighed. She thought something had been bothering him, and she somehow felt responsible. "Dinobot, you are more Maximal than I'll ever be," she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. You don't need any screwed up programming to tell who you are. You're stronger than that. Stronger than I am."

There was an accord silence between them, then Blackarachnia got up. "Well I'll see you later. I have morning patrol today."

"Of course," he nodded thoughtfully, then something registered. "Wait! Silverbolt has morning patrol." He crossed his arms over his torso plate and glared at her.

"Yes…"

"Ah-uh," Dinobot rolled his eyes. "Well what are you waiting for? Go, before I change my mind and report this to Optimus."

With another grin and a: "Thanks, Dinobot," she headed out of the base.

Dinobot watched her go and turned his attention back to the monitors, shaking his head in mild exasperation. Those two were liable to get each other killed one of these days despite the best of intentions, he new that perfectly well. That was why he could never allow himself to form any emotional bonds, not with the Maximals as friends, nor with any females as lovers. He could never care.

He sat in silence for a nanoclick, absorbed in his own thoughts, then got up. It was 0600 hours; his shift was over. Now his job was to wake up Cheetor and inform him that the security post was his for the next six megacycles.

No, I can not make any attachments, he thought as he passed through the cold metal, barren walls of the Ark. That way I can not be hurt…ever again.