Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, I know: Horrible person doesn't update her story in such a long time. Actually I've been working on three short scenes from Isis Khmer's childhood. They'll appear later in this story, but I wanted to get them done now. Plus, I've had a major writer's block (block falls on head. Ouchies!) and my muse hasn't been talking to me (muse packs her bags and leaves.) So I finally got myself together to write this.

Chapter 3

Tarantulas would have terminated himself rather than admit it, but there was something about this meeting that frightened him. He was more than a little unnerved before extending the invitation, and now, standing at the edge of the large formation which was part of the chain that would later be known as the Rocky Mountains, he felt that same nervousness again. It was not surprising, considering that the Predacon knew this bot well enough to recognize the danger of confronting him especially on the subject of Isis Khmer. Nevertheless, Tarantulas was possessive that his own life was in no danger…almost possessive.

"Thank you for agreeing to meat with me," he said as he took a step into the shadows of the rocks. "I'm sure that you will find our meeting quiet… informative."

"Give me a single reason not to slit your throat right here, right now," threatened a dark figure. It was entirely concealed by darkness, but Tarantulas was sure that the bot was armed, even if the only thing visible was a pair of scarlet optics.

"Alright," the scientist didn't sound at all intimidated. "I'm sure you remember the name Isis Khmer, do you not?" There was a gasp, and the Predacon smiled to himself. "Am I to assume that touched a nerve?"

"You psychopathic monster," the voice hissed.

"Not untrue," Tarantulas shrugged and leaned against the rock wall, casually examining his claws as if he found them very fascinating.

"You murdered her!"

"No, you did, actually," the spider corrected, "but what if I told you, she is alive?"

"Impossible," it retorted in a low growl.

"Oh I assure you, it's very possible, and she is very much alive," Tarantulas nodded. "I wonder what would happen if she found out what you did to her."

"She is dead! Once someone enters your web, they do not leave. Ever."

"She had…help."

The shadowed figure seemed to consider that. "The pilot?"

"You should have stuck around a bit longer," the Predacon observed. "If you had, you would have certainly heard what happened. After all, it was on every headline for months. Mystery of the Missing POWs Solved, Tripredacus Council Denies Any Knowledge of the Atrocities Committed Against the Maximal Prisoners of War,' or my personal favorite, Young Woman Escapes Brutal Torture and Proves to be the Key in the War. Not only did she survive, but that bitch managed to reveal my entire organization in the process!" He lost his calm for a nanoclick and cursed under his breath, but then quickly regained his cool, casual composition. He couldn't let his acquaintance catch him off balance, or everything would fall apart.

"So," the bot said thoughtfully, more to himself than to Tarantulas. "She is alive."

"Very much so," Tarantulas nodded. "Now I wonder what would happen if I informed her of your part in all of this? I'm sure she'll be very interested to find out what you did, but then you're probably wondering how I would do that. After all, we're stuck here on this Primus forsaken planet, and she's probably back on Cybertron, enjoying her fame."

The figure said nothing. "Oh well," the scientist shrugged. "I'm sure fate will take its coarse. She'll get whatever she deserves in the end; we all do." He turned and began to walk away. "Including you, my friend. Including you."

* * * * * * * * * *

Patrol was usually left to those who could cover great distances as quickly as possible. For Optimus and Silverbolt, the advantage was flight. For Cheetor, it was overland speed. Dinobot was also sent out on patrols, but usually they were patrols of the nearby areas or a pretty specific location. He wasn't as fast as Cheetor, but he was fast enough and his skills combat were uncontested.

Unlike them, Blackarachnia had no such great advantages at her disposal. True, she was a skilled warrior, but her greatest weapon was her mind. She stood in the clear space of a field located at the edge of a small forest. Millions of years later, it would become the great Yosemite National Park, but for the present time, it was only a dozen or so square miles in area. Shutting off her optics, Blackarachnia took a deep breath, inhaling the cool clean air. She cleared her mind and reached out with her spark, searching for Silverbolt. It didn't take her long to locate him over a hundred miles west of where she was. Blackarachnia smiled.

Hey there, Bowser, she called to him with her mind. Beautiful morning, no?

There was silence for a moment, and she giggled. Silverbolt must have been thoroughly confused. Beloved? Where are you?

Less than a megacycle by flight east of you, she replied. I would come to you, but it would take a while.

Oh, Silverbolt was still puzzled, but he was starting to understand. Then I shall be with you shortly. Patrol has been quiet this morning. I was planning on returning to base soon in any case. I shall be with you very soon, my love.

Okay, see you then, she cut the mental connection, and dropped on the grass, covering her optics with her right hand to shield them from the bright rays of the sun. Finally feeling comfortable, Blackarachnia sighed with content. Nothing can go wrong today, she thought, and a smile spread across her lips.

"Aww, what a touching scene," came a cocky voice behind her. The female immediately sprang to her feet and fell into a fighting stances. Her muscles tensed when she saw Tarantulas standing a few meters away from her. Even though, Blackarachnia knew very well that she could take him on in hand to hand combat, a part of her was still terrified. There were too many bad memories, too much pain and unhealed wounds, and she had no desire to live through the same ordeal a second time around.

"So this is what Maximals do on their days off," Tarantulas moved slowly, lazily, like he didn't have a care in the world.

Blackarachnia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose in agitation. "What do you want? I was really having a good day, and then you had to come in and ruin it. So the sooner I kick your tail pipe back to the hole you crawled out of, the sooner I can get back to it."

"My, my, aren't we in a bad mood this morning," Tarantulas shook his head in mock disappointment. "You should really work on that aggression, Blackarachnia. It never got anyone anywhere."

"What in the pit do you want?!" she was extremely annoyed.

"As hard this may be for you to believe, I'm not here to trade petty insults with you, witch. I'm here, because I've discovered something that concerns you very closely."