Author's Note: I beg forgiveness, those of y'all who liked this fic, but I'm afraid that it is permanently discontinued. I have changed fandoms, improved my writing skills (or so I hope), and have subsequently lost all desire to complete this tale. I don't want to erase the story entirely, so I am merely consolidating the Parts in belated compliance with the rules of FFnet.
Gomen nasai, minasan. (Bows low)
Disclaimer: The plot and all original characters belong to me, while Hasbro and other companies (whose names I can't remember for the life of me) own the Beast Wars. So don't sue. You won't get much. :)
The Stranger
by Dierdre
Part One
Chapter One
Rhinox, one of the oldest members of the Maximal team, was at the computer console. It was the dead of night and he was the only one on-line. The others were slumbering peacefully in their quarters. As tired as he was, he could not resent their rest time; things had been rough the past deca-cycle. Everyone was exhausted and edgy. Thank the Matrix; the Predicons had finally halted their attacks.
Rhinox suppressed a yawn. A little over one megacycle remained before Rattrap would relieve him. The Maximal would be right on time of course, but not without a great deal of grumbling and slightly acerbic comments. Rattrap never accepted any task with grace.
The bot on duty had to do something to alleviate the boredom. While his optic sensors were trained on the screen, his fingers glided expertly over the console, routing the base's outward sensors to his monitor. He set them to change every 7 nano-clicks; this way, he could see eight directions in just under a cycle. Leaning back in his chair, watching the screen change from one peaceful scene to another, Rhinox did not expect any trouble. The Preds were surely just as tired as this group. Still, it gave him something to do as the cycles dragged slowly by.
Despite this distraction, his optical lids were heavy, and his mind was not focused on the screens. The image shifted to the camera on the topmost part of the ship, pointing in the direction of the night sky. The planet's moon, no longer dominated by its much larger, and much more destructive, sibling, filled a good portion of the monitor. The larger moon had not been a moon at all but a monstrous machine capable of incredible devastation. It would have demolished the whole planet if Optimus had not been able to destroy it. A tiny point of light, smaller than the stars, was moving across the sky. Rhinox would have missed it entirely had it not chosen just that last moment, before the screen flickered to another image, to enter the atmosphere. Its superstructure heated to several thousand degrees in less than a nano-click, causing it to glow a brilliant orange and white.
Rhinox sat bolt upright, no longer tired.
"What the slagging..." The Maximal muttered, his hands flying over the controls. "Computer! Magnify the object in sector 00.358 and identify."
"Magnifying," the base's computer replied in its soft impersonal voice.
The screen wavered as the computer overrode the previous program. It recalled the surveillance system's uppermost camera, showing that the point of light was still descending towards the earth. The sensors focused on the object, bringing it up to full magnification.
The object appeared huge on the screen. It could have been mistaken for a meteor except that Rhinox could see, barely, a metallic… something among the flames.
The computer finished analyzing the object, and the screen's image was quickly replaced with several neat columns of data, giving the unknown object's approximate size, weight, speed, vector to crash point and its contents.
Rhinox could not believe his sensors. "Computer, confirm data!"
"The phenomenon is an interstellar craft of unknown design, approximately 20 meters in length by 10 meters in width, and is descending at a speed of 1,200 mph. The cruiser has received heavy damage to its outer hull. Shipboard computers are attempting to slow its decent. They will be unsuccessful; the craft will impact the earth at Grid Markum in approximately 19 cycles. Pilot does not register as either Predicon or Maximal. Status: Inactive."
"By the Matrix," Rhinox whispered.
He hit the emergency alarm button with enough force to rattle the console, and yelled into the speaker. "Everyone report to the bridge immediately! Code T! I repeat; Code T!"
Optimus Primal, the leader of the Maximals, came on-line with a start, immediately on the alert. The voice of his trusted friend, Rhinox, reverberated throughout the ship. Optimus had known Rhinox for many stellar-cycles, and in all that time, he had never heard him speak with such urgency.
He left his quarters at a fast trot, his footsteps rumbling the deck. As he traveled down the long hallway, he passed Dinobot's quarters. Dinobot was once a Predicon, but Megatron betrayed him. Soon afterwards, he joined the side of the Maximals. The door slid open, revealing the sparse interior for an instant as Dinobot stalked out. His long strides brought him easily abreast with Optimus.
"Good morning," Optimus said.
Dinobot growled, the sound originating from somewhere deep in his chest, and replied, "I fail to see what is good about it!"
Primal shook his head and grinned tolerantly. The bot was always irritable and picked fights with Rattrap on a regular basis. Optimus had only seen him smile when he thought no one was looking. All in all, he was a dour individual.
Wouldn't want him any other way, the Maximal leader declared to himself.
No sooner had he thought this, than the two were on the bridge with red lights flashing in alarm. Rhinox was staring at a flaming point in the sky, his hands a blur on the console as he tried to pull in all available information from the stations. The other Maximals filed in a few seconds later.
At the command of Optimus, Silverbolt, a new addition to their little band, sat at a nearby terminal trying to boost the ship's scanners. He was a Fuzor, a mixture of a wolf and an eagle. He was an honorable bot, kind and completely trustworthy.
Cheetor was staring intently over his shoulder. The youngest of the group, he was a Transmetal, like Optimus. Both Optimus Primal and Cheetor's super structures had been mutated as a direct result of the larger moon's destruction. Their beast forms were now capable of flight.
Rattrap, also a Transmetal, lounged in a chair a little apart from the others. In his usual contrary fashion, he did his best to look disinterested. Optimus pushed his way to Rhinox's side. "Is it a stasis pod?"
"Nope. It's much too big to be a pod. It's a spaceship whose like has never been charted in Maximal history!" Everyone crowded behind Rhinox to get a look at the screen, including Rattrap.
"Is it a Pred ship?" Cheetor asked; his voice tight with apprehension.
"Negative; it isn't Predicon. I have never seen its like," rumbled Dinobot.
Optimus, with a note of command, said, "Rhinox, plot the ship's vector to crash point and time of impact."
"Already plotted," Rhinox responded, bringing up the data. "The ship will crash in roughly 14 cycles at Grid Markum. It will take 13 cycles to reach the crash point."
"Is there any way we can slow the craft's decent by accessing and overriding its computer with our own?" Primal asked.
The Maximal scientist slowly shook his head. "The ship's computer is too alien. I can't access it from here."
"Optimus," Silverbolt said suddenly. "Whoever is in the craft is in trouble and probably injured. That pilot is no threat right now, we must help him."
"Hey, wait a nano-click! Why should we do anythin'? Despite what 'Dinobutt' says, it's a Pred ship. It can't be anythin' else." Rattrap glared challengingly at Dinobot. "'Sides when dat thing crashes dere won't be enough left of it t' make a maintenance bot."
"You forget my origins, vermin! I am... I was...a Predicon. It is not a Predicon cruiser. Be silent when you are ignorant! In other words; never speak again!" Dinobot growled, taking a menacing step toward Rattrap.
Rattrap looked up at the larger bot without fear. "Try it, lizard breath. Come another step and I'll show ya silent!" He waved his hand in a come-hither gesture.
Silverbolt pushed between the two adversaries to confront Optimus. He stood straight with his wings half spread behind him. When he spoke, his voice was entreating. "Optimus, the readings indicate that the pilot has neither Predicon nor Maximal energy signatures. Grid Markum is in the outskirts of Megatron's territory. I don't think he is an enemy; he may even be an ally. We cannot let him fall into the clutches of the Predicons."
Rattrap and Dinobot still glowered at each other, but did not continue the argument. Dinobot, surprisingly, spoke up in agreement with Silverbolt.
"Which side the pilot is on is irrelevant. We must secure the craft and its contents before the Predicons do."
Cheetor advanced to the side of Silverbolt and Dinobot. "Big Bot, they're right. We---"
"Enough!" Primal spoke firmly, silencing any further discussion. "If you bots will let me get a word in edgewise; we will secure the craft and rescue the pilot. Rhinox, take over the scanners and comm-links. As for the rest of you: Silverbolt, Cheetor, come with me; Dinobot, Rattrap, follow us as quickly as possible."
Rhinox turned back to the console and said after a second, "13 cycles 'till impact."
"Okay bots, let's move! Maximum burn!" Optimus commanded, sprinting to the base hatch. The others piled in behind him.
Outside, the night was cool, and the moon shone full and bright. They could see the distant ship, flaring white with friction, already alarmingly close to the ground.
"Beast mode!" They cried, almost in unison. Bodies shifted and altered. Soon they were seeing with different pairs of eyes. With their new forms they gained new advantages, and new limitations.
The fliers, Silverbolt, Optimus Primal and Cheetor leapt into the air. Cheetor's rockets partially separated from his sides, flaring to life and driving him forward. Primal's motion gears, located on a sort of metal board at the base of his feet, did the same. Silverbolt flapped his wings strongly, propelling himself straight up until he caught a good head wind, where he stiffened his wings and soared.
Dinobot, in his deadly velociraptor form, was about to run after them. Rattrap's new body had the advantage of wheels, something his old normal rat body had never had.
"No, Chopperface, you're too slow!" Rattrap exclaimed, spinning his wheels and kicking up dust. "Change back t' robot mode an' hitch a ride!"
Dinobot shuddered in disgust. How degrading for a warrior to 'hitch a ride' on the back of vermin. Unfortunately, the rat was right. He complied.
At that very moment, the Predicon leader, Megatron, and his motley band of cohorts were racing towards the distressed aircraft. They had reached the same conclusion as the Maximals; the ship was neither Predicon nor Maximal. Unlike the Maximals however, they were not intent on a rescue.
Megatron was thinking of rather inventive tortures to use on the aviator with the purpose of extracting the maximum amount of information from him before he died of pain. Torture was always good for the spark
Inferno, his massive flamethrower at the ready, was on one side of Megatron. The bot's logic circuits were so scrambled; he was more ant than bot. As a soldier ant, his first, last and only thought was for the protection of his leader, or 'Queen' as he called Megatron. Megatron threatened the ant with dismemberment every time he called him that; unfortunately it never worked.
On Megatron's other side was Waspinator. The bug was an inept soldier with delusions of grandeur; but fortunately, he was too stupid to plot against the Pred boss. He also attracted missile fire like a magnet. Any bot that fought beside him was almost guaranteed to come out of the battle unscathed, while Waspinator would invariably have to be brought back to base in a very small box.
The others were following rapidly behind them. Tarantulus was an absolutely brilliant technician. The Transmetal arachnid was also devious and treacherous to the core. He made good time using his wheels, with Black Arachnia riding on his back.
Black Arachnia was also a spider and, like Tarantulas, she was as intelligent and equally as treacherous. Her deceitfulness was far subtler, however.
Quick-Strike was scuttling after them. He was a Fuzor; a rather disturbing mixture of snake and scorpion. The bot was a fool, but a good fighter. He was only dangerous when he had a leader to guide him.
They were only a few cycles away from the crash point. They would be there before the Maximals.
"Oh no," Rhinox murmured. Gazing with alarm at the screen, he activated the line-of-sight transmission. With any luck at all, Optimus would still be within range.
"Optimus!" he cried into the transmitter.
A reply came only a few seconds later. Although heavily garbled, it was still understandable.
"Optimus here. What ... the trouble?"
"The ship is breaking up! The rear section of the craft is tearing away from the bow. It can't take the heat!"
"Hard to under... you. Hav ... lost ... pilot?"
"I don't know. The life form is in the front of the ship. My computer is detecting activity there. It seems the pilot is now functional and is attempting to seal off the bridge. He might succeed, he might not; I can't tell."
There was a long pause. "...Will pr..eed to ... point. ...Might surv... Can't take ...chance. …Predic… might..."
The rest of his words dissolved into static.
"Rhinox. Rhinox, come in!" Primal was unable to get a response. "Slag!"
"What's wrong?" Cheetor asked, shouting to be heard over the wind. Silverbolt crowded in close to hear. Primal patched into Rattrap and Dinobot's comms so they could listen in, as well.
"The vessel is breaking apart! The rear of the ship is collapsing under the heat and friction of the atmosphere. Rhinox says the pilot is attempting to close off the bridge from the flames."
"What can we do? We've gotta help him!" Cheetor exclaimed, his cheetah-like face showing alarm.
"We can't do anything right now. All we can do is proceed to Grid Markum and hope the pilot can hold it together."
Silverbolt's face was grim as he flapped harder to their destination.
They had traveled wordlessly for a cycle when Dinobot's voice suddenly rasped through the intercom, breaking the silence. "Look!"
They raised their heads as one just in time to see the distant craft split in two with a brilliant detonation of flame. The larger rear portion, including the engines, spun off violently from the bridge. The smaller half continued spinning forward, dragging a fiery tail of debris in its wake, while the larger piece hurtled in the opposite direction.
"No," Silverbolt spoke in a barely discernible whisper.
The stern eventually crashed into the ocean with a huge spray of water, while the bridge fell below view, hidden by a rocky cliff.
The Maximals braced themselves for the inevitable explosion. Surprisingly, there were only the faint sounds of trees snapping like matchsticks and of metal gouging into packed earth with shocking force.
"What da slaggin' heck happened? Why didn't it explode?" came Rattrap's incredulous question after a half a cycle of astonished silence.
No one bothered to answer, for at that moment the fliers passed the cliff face. What was left of the craft was smoking; fire licked hungrily out of a partially opened hatch. Megatron with his gang of followers were already there, crowded as close to it as the fire would permit.
Megatron looked up at the three Maximals approaching from above. Dinobot and Rattrap were making their way down the cliff side; now separated and in robot form; they were grabbing for hand and foot holds, making good time. They would be there very soon. He looked up at the trio now hovering above them; weapons drawn. With a look of pure hatred and contempt, the Predicon shouted to them over the roar of the mounting flames.
"Leave here, Primal! You are outnumbered and outgunned. Yesss." He waved dramatically to his fellow Predicons, who had turned away from the wreckage and were now aiming their weapons at the other approaching bots. "The prize is ours, Maximals!" He spit out the last word like it was a curse.
"I think not, Megatron!" Primal gestured to the two beside him and at Rattrap and Dinobot, skidding to a halt beneath them. "Maximals, all weapons ready and..."
He never got to finish, for at that very moment something erupted from the unknown craft's hatch. What looked like a bag sailed through the air and landed in a shapeless bundle just out of reach of the flames. Following behind it, a form so enshrouded by smoke it was impossible to see what it looked like, emerged. They could only see flashes of gray, red and metallic silver.
"It survived! Astonishing!" Tarantulus exclaimed, echoing everyone's thoughts.
The pilot gave a sound somewhere between a choking gasp and a cough as it staggered backward from the now flame-engulfed craft. Maximal and Predicon alike looked on in amazement.
"By the Matrix! What is it?" Cheetor gasped, landing beside the other two fliers. The fliers all transformed to robot mode.
Tarantulus sniggered. "Can't you tell? Even you, you ignorant child, must have read the history tracks from the Great War. It's a human!"
All present gasped at his words, but they made sense.
The human was tall, a little taller than Optimus, but shorter than Dinobot. The human was a female, for even though humans were made entirely of flesh and bone, their shapes were similar. She was clad in a suit of silvery metal from her neck to her feet. Even though it was blackened from the soot and flames, and dented from the impact, the suit was obviously well crafted and elegant; designed to flatter as well as to function. Her hair, bedraggled and sooty, hung down her back in a heavy braid, the clean strands shining as red as the flames around her.
They took this all in the span of a moment, for the human whirled around at the sound of Tarantulus's voice. There was a band of the same color metal, scratched and dulled, encircling her forehead. Her large eyes were the soft blue color of glacier ice. Her face was streaked with ash.
Even though she was obviously still disoriented from the crash, when she saw them, her eyes narrowed. Her left hand went to her hip and grasped a deadly looking blaster. With blurring speed, she drew her weapon and pointed it at all of them.
"Predico! Meadansa toi? Meaine nae pioletiorus! Dean nae!" Her voice challenged them.
"What is she saying?" Silverbolt sounded a little dumbfounded.
"Da first word sounded like 'Predicon'," Rattrap observed.
At Rattrap's remark the human trained her weapon on him. Her words were a snarl of hatred. "Predico! Meadansa toi Eartha? Dean nea te!"
Optimus held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "We mean you no harm. We are Maximals." He tapped his chest and gestured to each of his allies. Rattrap displayed the stylized fox symbol engraved on his arm, signifying that he was a Maximal. All the other Maximals with the exception of Dinobot, who had none, showed their emblems.
"Maxicum? Arte witheires!" Relief was evident in her voice. Suddenly, her face tightened with pain. Clasping her side, she dropped to one knee; still holding her weapon in a death-grip, pointed now at the Predicons. She wrapped her right arm tightly around her ribs.
Both Predicons and Maximals had lowered their weapons, caught up in the drama of the moment. Except Megatron. With speed that rivaled the woman's earlier draw, he fired three rapid shots. The first was directed at Optimus, the second at Dinobot; the only two Maximals who had not let their guard down. The final one was aimed at the human. But she had a bit of warning with the first salvo. She fell to the ground, letting the plasma charge miss her by millimeters. Both sides began to fire at each other, diving for whatever cover they could find.
Dinobot was blasted flat on his back, but not seriously hurt. Hissing in rage and pain, he scrambled to his feet and dove behind a boulder where Silverbolt had already taken refuge. Optimus was in worse shape, however. The shot had taken him full in the chest plate. He was unconscious.
"Optimus!" Cheetor cried, standing up in full view of enemy fire. "We gotta help him!"
Rattrap grabbed him and threw him to the ground behind the fallen tree where they had taken cover. "Are ya nuts, Spots? You'll be creamed!"
"We can't just leave him there!"
"We won't," the Maximal replied, reaching for the demolition charges he always kept with him.
The Predicons had taken shelter in the nearly waist-deep fissure caused by the fallen craft.
Megatron rapped out orders while firing at the enemy. "Inferno! Circle around behind the Maximals and wait until I call for a retreat. When we are out of sight and they have let their guard down, grab the human! Disable it if you must, but do not kill it! It may be useful to us. Waspinator, grab that bag. Go!"
The human woman had ducked behind a massive tree that had been knocked down by her crashing ship. The ribs on the left side of her body were cracked; she was bruised and battered. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her injured body. Through the use of genetically enhanced healing techniques, she eased the pain and encouraged the mending of her bones and tissues. Within half a minute she was breathing easier. It would have to do until she could use the med-kit.
Her suit had taken heavy damage. The very latest in human- produced technology; she could literally control the Tech-Suit with her thoughts, as easily as she could move her arms and legs. And although it was not painful, she could still 'feel' each damaged circuit and fried memory chip. Fifty percent of the suit's computer chips were in need of repair or completely unusable.
She cautiously raised her head over the tree, assessing the situation. The Maximals were outnumbered six to four. The unconscious one she guessed was their leader.
Dierdre Joan McClananhan, commander of the best squadron in the Fleet, was nonplussed. None of this made sense. This planet she had crashed on was Earth; it had to be! The same familiar moon hung over familiar grasses and trees. The foliage suggested to her that she was somewhere in Southeast Africa. But the constellations were all wrong. They looked the same, but they were in the wrong position in the sky!
And why were there no hovercraft passing overhead? Even in the wilderness environments, you should still be able to hear the faint sonic booms of hovercraft zipping by. Engineers had made great strides in silencing the noise, but you could still hear it faintly. In this place however, there were no sonic booms, only the sounds of discharging weaponry.
What had happened? Why were the Predicons here? Why didn't the bots understand her? True, her translator was smashed, but everyone knew Galtwo! Their words were barely understandable; they seemed to speak a highly antiquated version of the Cybertronian language.
A dozen suspicions came to her: one prospect more unpleasant than all of them. Time travel had been a fact for humans for nearly two centuries. Several people had tried it; a few had even come back to tell the tale. The jump-point her wounded ship had plunged into was said to have an occasional Time-Flux. But the odds of her ship's safeguards failing just as one of these anomalies was taking place were astronomical.
And that still didn't explain why the bots were here...
She was startled out of her disturbing thoughts when one of the Maximals cried out the ancient name often given to leaders of a group of Maximals. "Optimus!" The other, smaller bot pulled him back to safety.
So she had been right, the injured one was their leader.
Their weapons were primitive, but very effective. They still used lasers and plasma bursts! Weapons from a hundred years ago. Apparently none of them had Personal Shields, although that was both Maximal and Human standard issue. This shielding protects the wearer from most hand-held weapons and even guards against the crushing vacuum of space. Intelligence reports state that even the Preds were now starting to wear their own version of PS.
The small Maximal, the one who had first shown her his emblem, pulled out a demolition charge just as two of the flying Preds rose out of the ditch. The larger one shot off parallel to the battle until he disappeared from view hidden by the tall, unbroken trees. The other went into a sloping dive, firing rapidly at the Maximals. He was approaching fast, heading straight towards... her bag.
"No!" She cried in Earth Anglic, cursing herself for a fool. Some of the equipment in that bag was irreplaceable. There was one thing in particular, a small data disk. The information contained in that disk was so vitally important to the Resistance that the Council had sent her entire squadron on a probable suicide mission just to retrieve it. So many of her comrades had died; and she had thrown it out of the air lock and forgotten it!
She quickly activated her Personal Shield, casting a faint blue radiance about herself. Thank Heaven and Infinity; it was still functioning! She did not take time to think. The disk was too important. Images of her dying comrades and friends flashed through her brain. She had to get that disk!
Rattrap activated the charge. It was set to go off on impact. He peered over the fallen tree, his eyes narrowing as he saw Waspinator begin his dive.
"Cover me!" He yelled to Cheetor.
The Transmetal rodent stood up in full view of the Predicons.
Cheetor grimly fired several bursts of energy, effectively keeping any heads from showing over the furrow. Rattrap threw the small bomb just as he saw the human run from cover. She was sprinting towards the bag. Waspinator would be practically on top of her when the charge hit him!
"Watch out!"
His warning went unheard; she did not see the charge. She fired her weapon at the Predicon but it missed. All he could do was watch in horror as the charge hit Waspinator in the side, blowing him into several large pieces. His wasping cry of "Not again!" rang in the air.
The smoke that resulted from the blast obscured the human. She must have received the force of it. He looked away.
"All right!" Cheetor cried suddenly, whacking Rattrap on the shoulder with a metallic clang. "Look! She's okay!"
Rattrap peeked quickly over the log. The woman was staggering, clutching her bag, but alive! "Wooohooo!"
Rattrap grabbed another charge, arming it. This one was designed to go off three seconds after impact. He suddenly heard one less Pred weapon firing. He looked and saw Quick-Strike draped over the furrow, unconscious. Silverbolt had taken him out.
The rodent tossed the charge high in the air. It arched and landed with a thump in the furrow. With cries and snarls of anger and dismay, the Predicons leapt out of the ridge; an instant before it went off. Even so, the force of the blast sent the Preds flying.
The battle was clearly on the side of the Maximals. Two of the Predicons were inactive, Inferno had mysteriously disappeared and the remaining Preds had been deprived of their cover. The bots had dived back into the remains of the trench, although it was now nothing more than a shallow crater, providing very little protection.
Rattrap, Cheetor and Silverbolt were undamaged; Dinobot only slightly injured. As for Optimus Primal; help for him came from a rather unexpected source. The human was on one knee in the dirt beside him; her bag slung by two straps on her shoulders. She was firing at the Predicons with her left hand. With her right, she touched their leader lightly on the shoulder. The faint cerulean radiance spread from her hand to completely envelop his body. This blue glow was apparently a shield of some kind, for the few shots that connected either with her or with Optimus simply bounced off. The human's only reaction was to sway a little with each blow.
The tide turned permanently when Dinobot blasted Megatron with his lasers. The twin shots pierced the Predicon leader's shoulder, neatly severing several wires and rendering his firing arm useless.
"Arrrggghhh!" He cried, more for effect than from pain. Now would be a perfect time to announce the 'retreat.' "Blast! Retreat, retreat!"
The defeated Preds ran like mad. Tarantulus grabbed Quick-Strike, none too gently, by the feet, while Black Arachnia darted into the line of fire and quickly snatched up the larger pieces of Waspinator. Weighed down by their burdens, the spiders staggered towards the promised cover of the forest. There were very few feelings of camaraderie between the Preds; they would have left the two there had Megatron had not ordered them to take them to safety. They reached the woods and vanished.
Rattrap and Cheetor whooped in celebration, leaping to their feet and giving each other a 'high five'. Silverbolt immediately abandoned his hiding place and walked towards the human and Optimus. Dinobot slowly did the same, looking almost cheerful as he always did after a victorious battle.
The woman removed her hand from Optimus Primal's shoulder, the blue light disappearing abruptly from both their bodies. She collapsed flat on the ground, still conscious but utterly exhausted. Optimus stirred, groaned and struggled to rise.
"Take it easy Big Bot," Cheetor said. Primal, clutching his chest, tried to stand but staggered. Cheetor's hand shot out, grabbing his leader by the elbow and supporting him until he was steady on his feet. Silverbolt knelt beside the human, who was breathing raggedly, pain wracking her body. The Personal Shield was a wonderful invention, but it taxed the body after a while and required mental acuity. She had little of either when the battle began; she had even less now. She was at the limits of her strength. All the healing techniques in the world could not block out the pain now. Her ribs were on fire.
"Are you all right?" Silverbolt asked. He did not expect her to understand, but she looked blearily up at him and gave a feeble smile.
"Marte farquare," She replied. After a second, she said, in such oddly spoken Cybertronian that it was difficult to understand, "Been better."
All the Maximals stared at her. She closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them again.
"Oh, boy," Rattrap muttered.
"Tell me what happened," Optimus ordered. They filled him in on everything that had happened, from the time Megatron blasted him to when the strange human saved him from the plasma bursts of the Predicon's weapons.
"Oh, she did, did she? Remarkable." He limped over to the human. "Thank you. I owe you my life." He said, giving her a quick salute.
"Welcome." She replied, slowly returning the salute and gazing with weary curiosity at the members of the group who surrounded her. The wolf-eagle bot was still kneeling beside her; while Optimus, the leader, stood a little off to the side, looking thoughtful. A huge reptilian bot towered over the rest; his arms crossed and face expressionless. The small silver and red one, who had used the explosives, was both curious and suspicious. The other merely smiled. She tried to raise her upper body for a better look around her. That was apparently a bad idea, for she emitted a tiny gasp and clutched her ribs.
"We've got to get her out of here," Optimus said. The wound in his chest sparked and he winced. "We're both injured. There's nothing left of her ship anyway." He gestured to the blackened hulk. The human's eyes followed his arm. She stared a little sadly at her old ship Stardreamer. If she had understood his archaic speech correctly, he was right.
"Yes, rety loi gesta. Destroyed," Dierdre agreed, mixing the two languages. She turned on her side and planted both hands firmly on the ground. With a mighty effort, she pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet. She forced herself to stand upright with her shoulders back as a pilot should. Silverbolt steadied her when she swayed. The human flashed him a brief grin of gratitude before turning back to the slightly shorter Primal.
"Rety te pioletiorus han? Predico wati bacu. Your ship? Where? Predicons back." She was frustrated. Communication had not been a problem between their two races for nearly a century since the introduction of a common trading language, Galtwo, and the making of the Universal Translator. Her UT was trashed and these Maximals did not seem to know the language. She hated having to talk like a two-year-old!
"The human is correct. Megatron has withdrawn, but he will return. To remain here much longer would be foolhardy," Dinobot hissed, glowering speculatively at her.
It took her a second to catch the gist of what he was saying, but when she did, she merely met his eyes and nodded her head. Dierdre recognized the difference in Dinobot at first glance. She had met a few Predicons-turned-Maximals in her life. They seemed to be all alike in that they had a certain grimness and humorless air about them. Oh, she had nothing against them; an old friend of hers was a Liberator Predicon (one who had defected after the Feylian Massacre); you just simply never smiled openly at them. They often regarded that as a weakness.
"Our ship is twelve cycles to the northwest. Not far. Can you travel?" Optimus asked, gesturing to her torso where she still had an arm wrapped around her side.
The human closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate inward for moment. During this time something remarkable, and very strange, happened. The metal armor along her back seemed to melt, becoming almost liquid and crawling around her shoulders and torso. At the base of her shoulder blades, under the bag, the liquid steel spread outward. The half formed shapes looked almost like wings and seemed on the verge of solidifying. Suddenly, the metal of her suit collapsed in on itself, returning to its original, if somewhat battered, shape.
"No, can not walk. Injured badly. No flight off-line, suit damaged. Repair." While she was talking in her oddly spoken version of Cybertronian, she had been looking at the still smoking remains of her craft. She turned back to them.
Cheetor and Silverbolt were staring at her with open-mouthed astonishment. Rattrap and Dinobot grimly looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Although they were constantly at each other's throats, they were more alike than they realized. The human was not a threat now, but let her regain her strength and fix that suit of hers and she would be very powerful. She could either be a valuable ally or a formidable enemy. She must be kept under close observation.
Optimus Primal's instincts told him that she could be trusted. She had proven worthy of that trust; so far. However, he did not trust blindly. She was a new and unpredictable element to the Beast Wars. Complete trust would come later, for now she would have to be watched.
Dierdre was amused at their stunned expressions, although her face did not show it. These bots knew of humans, the spidery looking Predicon had confirmed this, but they'd probably never seen one. If she was right and she was two or more hundred years in the past, their shock was understandable. These bots probably postdated the Great War, but predated the Human Revelation. The Archives, created during that time, only spoke briefly of the human species. They had described them as a promising, intelligent and highly adaptable organic race, but still too primitive. It was recommended that they be left alone to develop at their own pace before they could join the Maximals as equals amongst the stars. The chronicles also implied that this development might take a very long time. She smiled to herself. The ancient Autobots had been very wrong with that rather superior assumption.
"Much to explain. Too much here. Must..."
She never got to finish that statement. Two flame bursts blasted the ground near them with tremendous force, knocking them off their feet and throwing them backwards, momentarily stunned. Dierdre was flung onto her stomach a little apart from the others. Her poor abused ribs were slammed against each other. The resulting pain was so intense she nearly blacked out.
In the instant before the Maximals could recover and get to their feet, Inferno came screaming from the treetops where he had been hiding, waiting for the proper moment. He flew over the stunned forms of the Maximals. Silverbolt fired at him with one of his missiles, but he was disoriented and the shot went wild. Laughing crazily, Inferno grabbed Dierdre by the bag still slung over her shoulders. She struggled feebly but was still nearly unconscious. He lifted her into the air.
By this time, the remaining bots were all on their feet. Everyone drew their weapons.
"No!" Optimus commanded. "They are too close together. You might hit her! Silverbolt, Cheetor, come with me!"
Silverbolt, with wings extended, simply leapt into the air and took off. Optimus and Cheetor transformed back to beast mode. Cheetor, while not able to fire his weapons while in beast mode, would still be useful. They followed quickly.
Dinobot growled lowly, his optics narrow slits of crimson. He disliked being excluded from a battle. It lacked honor. Rattrap was not short on courage, but he had a more philosophical view of the situation. The fewer battles he was in the less likely he was to get slagged.
"Let her go!" Silverbolt snarled, aligning himself with the fast rising Inferno. They were now very high up; the two bots left on the ground were tiny in comparison. If the human were to fall from this altitude, it would be fatal.
Inferno merely laughed. "Fool! The Royalty commands this creature be brought to him. I will do so; and you will buuuurrrrrnn!" The ant held onto the human with one hand, drawing his flame weapon with the other. He fired a blast of continuous flame at Silverbolt. The bot flexed his wings and turned sharply, barely missing the blaze.
The smell from the weapon discharge forced Dierdre fully awake. She looked down at the ground very, very far below her and gave a small involuntary scream of fright. This was too much! A sudden shot tore the flame-thrower from Inferno's hand and sent it spinning away into the night. Optimus Primal and Cheetor had arrived. She took heart when she saw the three Maximals had the Predicon surrounded. She knew they would not let her fall.
Cheetor fought for more elevation, rising above the Predicon. Optimus glided to the other side of Inferno, opposite to Silverbolt. They kept pace with him even though he drove himself forward at maximum burn, dodging and twisting.
"Give her to us, insect! We have you surrounded. Release her and we'll let you leave here in peace," Optimus decreed, shouting over the sound of the wind whistling over their fast moving bodies.
Inferno glared contemptuously at him. "Never!" He suddenly grasped the woman around the throat with his free hand. "If one of you comes any closer, I will destroy the human!" He tightened his grip around her esophagus, inducing choking noises from her.
Dierdre locked eyes with Optimus. He saw a warning look in her expression. She was trying to tell him to be ready; she was about to attempt something very dangerous.
The human clutched the metallic hand that was encircling her neck; hoping that the Maximal leader had understood her unspoken message. She closed her eyes and focused.
Primal had seen the warning in her gaze. He motioned with his hand for Silverbolt to drop below them and wait. He had seen that same look of concentration only a few cycles before when she had caused her suit to melt and assume a different shape.
No sooner had Silverbolt moved away, the human woman acted. Blue electricity, the same color as her shield, shot from her armor-decorated fingers. The electricity surged up Inferno's arm to envelop his entire body. He gave a scream of pain and rage, his fingers convulsively loosening from her throat.
At that same moment, one of the straps on the bag, which had been bearing the weight of a full-grown woman with heavy armor, ripped loose, tearing a large hole in the material. Most of its contents spilled, raining down on Silverbolt's head and falling to the forest floor far below. Dierdre's right shoulder slipped from the strap. The other followed a second later. She fell.
She did not fall far. Silverbolt was waiting for her. Her limp and unconscious body slammed into his arms.
Diving, Cheetor planted his front paws hard onto Inferno's back. The Pred gave vent to another shriek of rage and lashed out blindly with his arm. It connected savagely with the right side of the young Maximal's head, stunning him. Cheetor slid off Inferno's back and began to tumble downward.
"Cheetor!" Optimus cried. He abandoned the Predicon ant and swooped down after his fast falling friend. Reaching out with a desperate hand he snatched, and held on to, one of Cheetor's flailing hind limbs.
Cheetor came to his senses an instant later. Groaning and shaking his head, he looked up at Optimus.
Optimus smiled in relief. "If you're done napping..."
Cheetor grinned back and activated his thrusters, which had shut down during his descent. Optimus released his foot and let him fly on his own.
"Thanks, Big Bot. Where'd the bug go?" Cheetor's optics scanned the now empty sky above them. Inferno had disappeared, taking with him the tattered remains of the woman's pack. A pack that contained a few pieces of replaceable equipment, some personal items, and one small, unimportant looking data disk.
Silverbolt flapped his wings and glided next to them, gently holding the still form of the human. "I saw him fly into the cover of the forest. Inferno is long gone."
"No matter," Optimus replied. "We got what we came for."
Optimus Primal touched his arm, activating the comm link. "Optimus to Rattrap and Dinobot. Come in."
A static-filled reply came an instant later. "Dinobot here. What is the situation?"
"We were successful. The human is unconscious, but alive. We are returning to base. Proceed to coordinates 451 and 452. The human's equipment fell around that area. Bring back anything you can find, salvageable or not."
"Affirmative," Dinobot growled.
"Be careful."
Rattrap's sarcastic voice could be faintly heard through Dinobot's comm. "You got dat right, Big Ape! Sheesh, ya always give me da slag jobs! Why I otta..."
"Silence, vermin!" Dinobot's exasperated shout cut through Rattrap's tirade.
"Watch it lizard, or I'll rearrange your hard drive!"
"Go rummage through garbage, you useless..."
With a long suffering sigh, Optimus cut off the link, effectively silencing them both. Once they got through arguing, they would get the job done. He hoped.
"Let's go home," he told the other two.
They flew wearily towards their base, the rising sun at their backs.