Disclaimer; I own Slingblade and the plot. That's it.
Warning: Due to language and violence, this series is rated PG-13.
Ulysses
Chapter 8
Arrival
by Switchblade X
Someone was outside. Someone of rather large stature, judging by their footfalls.
His optics lit up and he instinctively pressed his back farther into the corner, preparing to defend himself.
Light flooded his quarters as his door opened, making him raise an arm to shield his optics from the glare. A shadow fell across the floor, providing him with some relief from the sudden explosion of light.
"Your time's up." the shadow's owner said. "You can come out now."
Cautiously, Silverbolt crawled off of his bunk and stood before his commanding officer, struggling to focus his optics. He hadn't had his lights on for quite some time, and it showed.
"You can thank Slingblade for this; she begged me to let you out." Optimus said, stepping aside so that the Fuzor could pass by him.
Silverbolt snorted, "I have nothing to say to her."
Optimus frowned, "Silverbolt, this is your fault and you know it; you have no right to be angry with Slingblade."
He looked at the floor, "I know, Sir. And I apologize for my actions."
"I'm afraid an apology isn't going to cut it this time."
Silverbolt looked at him, "What?"
"Until I say otherwise, you'll have someone with you when you go on patrol."
His shoulders slumped, and he returned his gaze to the floor, "As you wish, Sir."
"I think you owe someone else an apology, as well." When he didn't reply, Optimus continued, "Silverbolt, Slingblade begged me for three hours to let you out. Three hours."
Silverbolt still didn't reply.
"She didn't just say 'please', either; she was down on her hands and knees pleading with me like she was pleading for your life. Slingblade is not known to beg, Silverbolt. That should say something to you about how much she cares about you."
He still didn't reply.
"…Have you heard anything that I've said?"
"I heard it. …But I don't believe it."
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Cheetor looked at Slingblade, who was sitting beside him, flipping through some files. Her left hand was shaking almost violently. "What's wrong with your hand?"
She looked up, "Huh?"
He nodded to her hand, "What's wrong with your hand? Why is it shaking like that?"
"Oh, that." She chuckled and held her trembling hand up for him to see, "Nerves. Yet another wonderful side-effect of war, I'm afraid."
From across the room, Rattrap snorted softly.
Cheetor looked at his own hands, "Will that happen to me?"
"I dunno. You haven't been fighting for very long, and you haven't experienced very many traumatic things, which is good for you; it lessens your chances of having bad nerves."
He frowned, "Define 'traumatic things'."
Slingblade's face suddenly became emotionless, then a far-away, reminiscing look took over. "Seeing your friends die around you by the hundreds of thousands and knowing that there's nothing you can do…trying to patch up a wounded 'bot who's screaming in pain only to have his head blown off by an enemy soldier before you can save him…ordering the slaughter of millions of innocent people…watching countless innocents die by your own hand…helping carry in the dead bodies of your comrades…seeing children slaughtered like cattle…knowing that every 'bot you kill might be a father, uncle, brother, son, grandpa, whatever…knowing that every life you take might have been the life of someone who could've made a difference…watching a mother and child scream as the husband is killed trying to defend them…being the only 'bot left standing on a battlefield…knowing that you have destroyed literally billions of 'bots' lives and enjoyed every last minute of it and still enjoy killing…"
Cheetor was quickly becoming mortified as Slingblade's far-away look was replaced with a bloodthirsty look.
She saw the look of horror on his face, "Oh, yes, little one, I enjoyed my job. I enjoyed it like I enjoyed nothing else. I loved seeing the brief look of pain and surprise that flashed across a 'bot's face when I killed him. I loved seeing the mech-fluid of my enemies draining down my sword's blood-gutters and dripping from the point. I loved having the blood of my enemies splashed onto my body, into my face, into my mouth."
She inhaled deeply, "Ah, Cheetor, you do not know the true thrill of battle! The sights, the smells, the sounds! Killing those you despise most! Drinking your enemy's blood as it splashes into your open mouth! Hearing them scream as you thrust your sword into their body and twist it a few times just for kicks! The sheer adrenalin rush of it all!
"…True, I have my regrets, but they are insignificant when compared to the knowledge that I helped my people stand up for themselves. Besides, you Maximals and Autobots reproduce like rabbits; your population was back to normal in no time at all."
The command center had fallen deathly quiet. Cheetor and Rattrap were staring at her, expressions of horror and revulsion playing across their faces.
"You. Are. Sick." Rattrap finally said.
"And you are weak." Dinobot replied, stepping out of the shadowed hallway and into the command center. "You act as though you are repulsed."
"We are!" Cheetor exclaimed.
Dinobot snorted, "You are repulsed because you have Autobot blood in your veins. The Autobots did not enjoy battle like the Decepticons did."
"The Autobots were a civilized race." Cheetor argued. "The Decepticons were little more than savages."
"We are not savages!" Slingblade yelled. "True, we are a rough-and-tumble race, but we are not savages! We are just as civilized as your precious Autobots!"
Cheetor drew away from her; Slingblade had never been angry with him before.
"Your ancestors oppressed us, treated us like second-class citizens just like you Maximals treat the Predacons! It was only natural that we lashed back at them!" She paused, looking him over, "You are afraid of me. You all are. You fear me because I am a Decepticon. You fear me because my mind works differently than yours; I think like a predator, and that absolutely terrifies you."
"Ey, I ain't scared 'a nobody!" Rattrap exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
"Maybe you should be, vermin." Dinobot coolly replied, walking over to Slingblade, who stood as he approached.
"I feed off of fear and pain." Slingblade said. "We all do; it is the Decepticon way. The Autobots are weak. As are their descendants."
"Den why did you join 'em?" Rattrap demanded.
Slingblade smiled at him.
A chill shot down Rattrap's spine and his mech-fluid went cold.
"You'll find out soon enough, little mouse." She put one arm around Dinobot's waist, and the two of them exited the command center.
Dinobot shot a quick glance over his shoulder. Rattrap was staring at them with pure hatred, but Cheetor was still traumatized. He grinned, and put an arm across Slingblade's shoulders.
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Optimus stared at the blank screen in front of him, a million thoughts racing through his mind at once. He had just finished watching the security video that Rattrap had insisted he view.
"Somehow 'I told ya so' jus' don' cover dis." Rattrap said, folding his arms over his chest.
Rhinox shook his head, "We should've seen this coming."
"I agree." Optimus sighed, "I just wanted so badly to believe that she was a Decepticon redeemed. …I guess I was wrong."
"I say we slag da both of 'em." Rattrap said.
"NO!" Cheetor exclaimed. This was the first time he had spoken since Slingblade had yelled at him.
"Why not?"
"Slingblade's not evil anymore, I know she's not!"
"Cheetor, I know you like Slingblade, but you personally witnessed her Decepticon programming take over." Optimus said gently. "We can't trust her anymore. We can't trust Dinobot, either."
"We shoulda slagged his skid-plate a looong time ago." Rattrap remarked.
"Shut up, Rattrap." Optimus snapped. "We have a situation here, and we don't need your smart-mouthed comments."
Rattrap made a face at him and fell silent.
"What're we gonna do, Optimus?" Rhinox asked.
"I don't know, Rhinox." he answered. "I just don't know."
Silverbolt sniffed the air, "They're close. Perhaps we should confront them now."
"Confront who?" Slingblade asked, as she entered the command center, picking some dirt out from under one clawed finger with the smallest of the two blades that she kept secured to the inside of her left calf.
Dinobot followed her without saying a word. The tension in the room made him somewhat nervous; something big was about to go down.
"Whose side are you on?" Optimus asked.
Slingblade returned her blade to its place and looked at the Maximal commander. "Why yours, of course."
"Liar!" Rattrap accused. "Da both 'a you 're workin' for da Preds!"
Slingblade snorted, "Hardly." With all the cocky coolness of the cat that just ate the canary, she sat down on the command center table cross-legged, her elbows on her knees, chin propped against her hands, and a smile on her face. "Now, if you all would be so kind, explain to me what exactly is going on."
Dinobot stood beside her, preparing to defend himself when the attack came. She's going to get the both of us killed! he thought.
"We have reason to believe that the both of you are spies." Optimus said calmly. The way she was looking at him was making him nervous; she looked amused. "I don't want to believe that this is true, but the security tape says differently."
She grinned, "Surely you aren't going to believe a security tape."
"Why wouldn't I?"
She shook her head, "Optimus, Optimus; I thought you knew better than that. It's not hard to forge one of those things."
"Why would anyone want to forge a security tape?"
She sat up straight, and gestured to Rattrap, "It's no secret that Rattrap hates my guts. True, we got along well enough until recently, but such a shaky relationship can only last for so long. Who's to say he didn't forge the tape?"
"Now, wait just a slaggin'-" Rattrap started, but was interrupted by an alarm going off.
Rhinox rushed to a computer console. "We've got a full-scale Predacon assault!"
"Get the auto-guns online and fire up Sentinel!" Optimus ordered. "Battle stations, Maximals!" As the others scrambled to their stations, Optimus pointed to Slingblade and Dinobot; "That means you, too!"
Slingblade hopped nonchalantly off of the table, and made her way over to an unoccupied computer console.
When did she get so cocky? Dinobot wondered, rushing to the last remaining console.
"Fire at will!" Optimus ordered.
"The shields are taking some pretty bad hits!" Cheetor called.
"Rhinox, divert all available power to the shields!" Optimus looked over Rattrap's shoulder, "What are they doing?"
"Ya got me, fearless leader." Rattrap replied.
"Slag!" Cheetor exclaimed, "My auto-gun just got blown up!"
"The shield is down to twenty percent!" Rhinox called.
"Try to hold it!" Optimus replied.
"Hey, what gives?" Rattrap suddenly asked.
"What is it?" Optimus asked.
Rattrap pointed to the screen, "Check it out, Boss Monkey; someone else's firin' on da Preds!"
"Cheetor, see if you can get a reading!" Optimus ordered.
"I can't see 'em!" Cheetor called.
"That's because the ship is cloaked." Slingblade said, walking over to him. She didn't comment on him flinching away when she leaned over his shoulder and began typing in commands. "It's basic stealth technology. If they taught you anything in school, you'd know that." She typed in a few more commands, and the radar disappeared, giving them a clear view of the smoke-filled sky. She zoomed in on where the red lasers were coming from, and pointed to the screen, "See that little ripple? That's your ship."
Optimus stepped over to the two, and looked at the "ripple". "Are you sure?"
"That's where the lasers are coming from. Besides, when you're dealing with stealth fighters, you need to learn not to rely on anything but your optics and audio-receptors. Look here."-she pointed to two other ripples that had just appeared-"There's a wing here and here, and the nose is here. This ship is an experiment."
"How do you know?"
"Easy; I can see it. If they had perfected it yet, I wouldn't be able to see anything but its lasers; I'd only be able to hear it."
"Hey, we got runners!" Rattrap called.
Optimus moved back over to him, and watched the Predacons retreat.
"Looks like our pal has decided to land." Cheetor said.
The Maximals gathered around Cheetor, and watched the ship descend and switch off its cloak, revealing a black fighter that resembled a raven.
"Ooooo." Slingblade said. "I like. I like a lot."
"I thought you said it was an experiment." Optimus pointed out.
"It is. But it's a pretty experiment. A couple dozen of these babies could do a helluva lot of damage once perfected." she replied.
"Now what?" Rhinox asked.
"We should hail him." Silverbolt suggested. "He did save us, after all."
Optimus thought this over for a moment, "…Lower the shields. We'll hail him, but be ready to fight."
As one, the Maximals drew their weapons.
While the ship was being hailed, Dinobot shot a glance at Slingblade, who nodded as she silently sheathed her sword. He did the same.
The roof hatch was suddenly forced open, and smoke began drifting in.
The Maximals exchanged nervous glances. Rattrap noted that Slingblade and Dinobot were unarmed, but didn't say anything about it.
Suddenly, two lasers shot through the thick smoke, blasting the weapons from the Maximals' hands.
"What's goin' on?" Cheetor asked.
Optimus squinted into the smoke, "After the Great War, a few Decepticons were granted amnesty. Most have retired, but rumor has it that one was reprogrammed and rebuilt--as a Predacon."
A black panther stepped out of the smoke.
"Ravage." Optimus almost growled.
Ravage bowed, "You will pardon my shooting the weapons from your hands. I only wished to avoid any regrettable accidents to my person."
"Yeah?" Rattrap asked, "Well next time try da front door!" Optimus sighed, "Rattrap, please-""PLEASE?! For bootin' up cold! Da only ting worse dan a stinkin' Predacon is a stinkin' Decepticon!"
Slingblade cleared her throat threateningly.
"Shut up Rattrap." Optimus snapped.Ravage looked them over, "I must say, some of you look...different …than what I was expecting."
Optimus folded his arms over his chest, "We've had some…interesting times."Ravage nodded, as his optics fell on Slingblade. "There you are. I was getting concerned."
"Hello again, Ravage." Slingblade said, walking up to him and shaking his hand. "Your arrival was very well-timed."
Ravage grinned, "I try."
Dinobot slowly stepped forward, keeping an eye on Ravage.
"You remember Dinobot." Slingblade continued.
"Ah, yes, your friend." He held out his hand, "Greetings."
Dinobot nodded, and shook the panther's hand.
Behind Slingblade, a gun cocked. She turned around to find Rattrap aiming at her. In fact, all of the Maximals were aiming at them.
"You three have a lot of explaining to do." Optimus said. "And you've got about two minutes to do it in."
Ravage stepped forward, "By order of the Tripredacus Council, I have been dispatched to capture the fugitive known as Megatron. Agent Slingblade was sent on this mission since both ships were due to lift off at the same time and their paths would almost intersect, hopefully resulting in the capture and containment of Megatron. Unfortunately, we hadn't counted on her being put into the protoform state. But, it all worked out in the end, as you can plainly see."
"So, you are a spy!" Rattrap exclaimed.
Slingblade grinned at him and mockingly said, "Oh, dear, you've found me out." But, her grin faded, and she became serious, "I'm not a spy; I'm a Tripredacus Agent. I've worked with the Decepticon government and military, and eventually the Tripredacus Council ever since I 'defected'. I help catch the renegades that get too rebellious by keeping an optic on the 'bots who join the enemy's ranks for one reason or another."
"So…that's why you joined the Autobots and then the Maximals?" Cheetor asked, sounding hurt. "I thought you'd changed your ways."
"I'm sorry you had to find me out like this, Cheetor, I really am. But, the fact remains; I am an Agent that has been within your ranks for over three hundred years. Now…what're you going to do about it?"
"Slag your sorry ass, dat's what!" Rattrap exclaimed.
Before he could get a shot off, Dinobot had blown his pistol from his hand.
"Ah ah ah." Slingblade said. "Mustn't do that. You might get…hurt."
"What's your role in all this?" Optimus asked, directing the question toward Dinobot.
"I have a score to settle." he answered simply.
Ravage sighed and stepped forward, "Forgive my…partners…they seem to be a bit trigger-happy. Perhaps I could explain things better if you would lower your weapons."
None of the Maximals complied.
"Mm. Very well, then; we'll do this your way." He shifted his weight a bit, "The three of us have no quarrel with you at all. We only wish to capture Megatron before he does any more damage and return him to Cybertron in as few pieces as possible. Now, we are more than capable of doing this ourselves, but your help would be greatly appreciated."
"Why should we trust you?" Optimus asked, folding his arms over his chest.
Ravage smiled, "I should think that you would appreciate what we are doing. You want Megatron captured as much as we do, and I am fairly certain that you would like to go home. I am the only one with a ship that is worthy of flight. And, if I had arrived any later than I did, Megatron and his forces would've penetrated your defenses and destroyed you."
"How do we know dat you won't stab us in da back like Slinger an' Chopperface?" Rattrap demanded.
Ravage's smile broadened, "Have no fear, my small friend; we won't betray you." He reached up and patted Slingblade's head, "And besides, I'm sure you all know by now that Slingblade is not 'all there'."
"Hey!" Slingblade protested.
"I don't know about her friend, but he looks reliable enough."
Optimus stared at the trio, then said, "Maximals, huddle."
As the Maximals huddled together and began whispering amongst themselves, Ravage took the opportunity to look around the command center. In all honesty, it looked exactly like he had expected it to; just like an exploration vessel's command center should. He was disappointed.
Keeping his optics on the clump of Maximals, Dinobot stepped over behind Slingblade and bowed his head just enough to speak to her. "I have a bad feeling about this." he whispered.
"You know what?" she asked, also whispering.
"What?"
"Me, too. I don't know what it is, but something is definitely wrong."
Oh, great. Now I know we're going to get slagged. he thought. "…Stay close to me; it's not safe anywhere now."
Author's Note; Finally! I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get this done. Sorry for the wait: school's back in session, which should tell you something. If I hear one more sermon about the dress code or the new cell phone laws, I swear, I'm gonna go nuts!
Anyway, thanks to nannon and Green Tima for the reviews! They are very much appreciated! More to come!