A/N- During this chapter, Nightshade's voice will jump to a high pitch every now and again. I'll let you know when that happens by dragging out sounds.

-Personal Log: Entry #005-

Optimus met me outside the scanning room, and filled me in on my new systems. What it boils down to is this:

My transformation, at least at first, will be dependent on Activation Codes. If I were to speak the words "beast mode", I would immediately convert to beast mode. While in the aforementioned beast mode, to say the word "maximize" would return me to my robot form. Once I properly memorize the different servo movements, I will be able to transform without the Activation Codes.

I now have my own personal IRS, (Internal Repair System) which activates automatically when I convert to beast mode. From what I've heard, it's not as efficient as a CR Chamber, but it's quite handy in the field.

When I asked Optimus about this planet, he told me he didn't know where it was, or when. The Axalon had locked onto the Darkside's warp signature, following it through space and time until both ships crashed here. The Axalon's engine core died in the crash, and the core from the Darkside was fried in a subsequent transplant attempt. Neither one is capable of ever flying again.

Then he told me of the Darkside's crew, the Predacons. There are currently seven of them, led by a tyrannosaur named Megatron. The Maximals and Predacons have been engaged in a war for survival, the Beast Wars, for some time. Megatron is intent on conquering Cybertron, and he will use Earth's resources to do so. Optimus refuses to let that happen. Kinda sounds familiar, when I think about it.

I was correct in my supposition on the origin of these people. The Maximals and Predacons are indeed descended from Autobots and Decepticons, respectively. Under this knowledge, I have deleted all of the system scans from the various items I have encountered, and will refrain from inquiring further into their history. Unerring knowledge of the future can be a very dangerous thing.

"What a fool he is," Tarantulas said to himself, as he finished his work in his lair. "Megatron truly does not suspect what I have planned."

"But I might," Blackarachnia said, emerging from the shadows behind him. "You intend to take that ship for yourself, don't you? To 'get off this dirt-ball as soon as you can'? Admit it!"

Tarantulas turned to face her. "And what exactly would you think to do about it?"

"Why, help you. What else?"

"Aaarrrggghhh, like you helped last time? You nearly got us both scrapped, you conniving witch!"

"Hey," Blackarachnia said, unfazed. "As far as conniving goes, I'm nothing compared to yourself." She gently ran a claw over his chest. "This time, though, I know for a fact that I am better served... by serving you."

"Ohhh, all right then." Tarantulas converted to beast mode. "The craft itself is not something I recognize, so we'll have to pay the pilot a little visit, and see what he can tell us."

"You know where the pilot is?"

"The scrambler program that knocked out the scanners missed the computer down here, and I discovered an energy anomaly, which gave me an estimate of where the ship might be found. I can't scan inside the craft while its shields are active, so we'll have to go there and seek out the pilot."

"What if the pilot isn't there?"

"We will check his ship first. If he is not there, then I suspect there's only one other place he could be."

Tarantulas scuttled out of the cave. Blackarachnia transformed and followed him.

Nightshade stepped into his room, taking another look. Yeah, it needed a few homey touches, he decided. The walls were too empty. But until he recovered Alpha Seven, he wouldn't have anything to stick on them.

He reflected on the events of the past solar cycle. First he walked to this ship from his own, nearly getting fried by the raw Energon deposits on the way. Then he was introduced to everyone except Tigatron, who had been patrolling the area. Then he was given a beast mode, so that the Energon wouldn't get to him again. Then he was told about a war, and now--

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Nightshade said.

The door slid open, and Cheetor and Tigatron entered, both in robot mode.

"Big Cat, this is Nightshade," Cheetor said. "Nightshade, Tigatron."

Nightshade gave a quick salute, and then stuck out his hand.

"I see you've already chosen you beast form," Tigatron said as he shook Nightshade's hand. "May I see it?"

"If you like." Nightshade took a few steps back. "Beast mode!"

Nightshade's robot head descended into his chest as he raised his arms above him, internal joints pushing his shoulders together. Both halves of the panther's muzzle unlocked themselves from Nightshade's wrists, and each half of the panther's head slid forward over his robot hands, concealing them from view as the panther's head locked together. He bent forward, and his panther forelegs unfolded and swung out from behind his lower back, moving up to take their place at his shoulders, his bat's claws catching him before he fell. His wings unfurled, and a panther's tail snaked its way out of his back, completing the transformation in two or three clicks.

"Is it up to your expectations?" he asked, watching their faces.

"And then some," Tigatron said.

"Yeah, ultra-gear," Cheetor added. "But what is it?"

"A crossbreed," Nightshade answered simply.

"Totally spot-on smoooooth," Cheetor remarked. "I've got to take you running sometime."

"I'd like that. I didn't get a real chance to see what's out there when I landed, and it'd help me get to know the world I've landed on." Nightshade sighed. "But I'm on probation for the next lunar cycle. I can't leave the base without Optimus's direct approval."

"Optimus has a good spark," Tigatron said. "He might send an escort, but I don't think he'd deny you such a simple request. And it will be well worth asking."

"You think so?"

Tigatron nodded. "This world has many wonders, even beyond what you would have seen, had you had time to notice them on your journey from your ship to this one."

"Oh, frrraaag my fangs!" Nightshade said suddenly.

"Whoa!" Cheetor stepped back. "All aboard for trip-out city!"

"Are you all right?" Tigatron asked.

"I'm not sure," Nightshade said, confused. "Suddenly, I feel... out of sync with myself. That squeal escaped before I could stop it. Maybe this crossbreed form wasn't such a good idea."

"A programming block," Tigatron surmised.

"Like the time the Preds swiped our rectifier coil?" Cheetor asked. "But it took two solar cycles for the effects to hit us!"

"Which means there's still time to stop it before it gets worse. We should make use of that time." Tigatron stepped forward. "Listen to me, Nightshade. Your beast mind, whatever it is, may be trying to overpower you. Stop fighting it. Search your core consciousness. Find the programming block, and delete it. And let your beast instincts work side-by-side with your robot intelligence. Only then will you be at peace with yourself."

"I... I can try," Nightshade said. "But compared to what my voice can do, that first freak-out might as well have been a mute mouse. You'll want to cover your audio receivers."

He waited until they did so, then looked within himself as Tigatron had instructed. But his diagnostic circuits had other ideas.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" Nightshade slammed his clenched forepaw into the deck.

"Whoa, you weren't kidding about that voice thing," Cheetor said. "Ow."

"What's the problem, Nightshade?" Tigatron asked.

"Programming block not found," Nightshade said, beginning to panic. "So, what now? I await your next bright idea, maaassster guru-bot."

"Don't get huffy with me," Tigatron growled. "I'm only trying to help!"

"I know! I know." Nightshade calmed himself. "I'm sorry. It's just, this plaaannnet, this ship, this war... it's an awful lot for me to wrap my processor around. And that's without this malfunction, or whatever it is."

Maybe that's all it is," Cheetor said. "Just a malfunction."

"You should try talking to Rhinox," Tigatron suggested, stepping out of the way. "He'll know."

"Not a bad idea." Nightshade ran from the room.

Rhinox slammed the console angrily. "It's no good, Optimus. The scrambling program that's knocked out the surface scanners subtly changes itself every few cycles. I can't keep track of it."

"You did what you could, Rhinox. You know that's all I've ever expected of you."

"There you are, Rhinox," Nightshade said, arriving on the bridge. "Nightshade, maximize." He transformed, and approached the console. "Problems with the scanners?"

"How did you know?" Rhinox asked. "Unless..."

"I can help you with that, Rhinox, but I need you to help me."

"You put this program in the computer," Rhinox accused.

"Who else? And if you need me to, I'll get rid of it. But right now, I've got problems of my own. Problems that, according to Cheetor and Tigatron, may require your know-how to fix."

Rhinox looked to Optimus. "What do you think?"

"If Nightshade can fix this, then you should at least see what his problem is," Optimus said. "It's not worth your frustration to stay here."

"All right," Rhinox said. "What's the problem, Nightshade?"

The two of them were alone in the medical room.

"Well, I'm not sure," Nightshade replied. "In beast mode, my voice started jumping back and forth randomly between my normal tone and a high-pitched screech."

"How high would you say it was? Like a bat's sonar?"

"Not quite, but pretty close. And I felt like I didn't know myself. Like I couldn't really remember what I wanted."

"Maybe your programming block--"

"Programming block not found. Tigatron had the same theory."

"Well, the only other idea I can give you is that something about your beast form is messing with your circuitry. In order to test the theory, though, you'll have to transform, and go offline for about ten or fifteen cycles."

Nightshade yawned. "Great. Some sleep might help me clear my head. Beast mode." He transformed, hopped onto the exam table, and laid down for a nap.

Nightshade's eyes opened. Not that it did any good, though. The space around him was pitch-black.

"Where am I?" he wondered.

A light appeared before him, just bright enough for him to see that he was currently in robot mode.

"And when did I maximize?"

"Why did you maximize?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "That is the question."

"Who are you?" Nightshade asked. "That's the real question."

"Oh, come now. Surely you haven't forgotten me already?"

The light changed shape, taking form until Nightshade could make out a familiar face. A face that he would've been happier never seeing again.

"Galvatron." Nightshade spat out the name as though it were poisoned, saturated with the juice of his namesake.

"Such fury does not become you," the Decepticon commander said.

"Leave me alone!" Nightshade yelled.

"Return to us," Galvatron replied.

"I'll never return! I'm with the Autobots now, and that's where I'm staying!"

"You're fooling yourself," Galvatron sneered. "You will never be a true Autobot. You joined with Rodimus Prime only to save yourself from being scrapped."

"I'LL SCRAP YOU, YOU TIN-PLATED TYRANT!" Nightshade positioned his wings so that the claws were pointing forward, over his shoulders. The wing-claws glowed red for a few clicks, then fired Nightshade's plasma lasers.

The twin crimson beams hit dead on, blasting through and shattering Galvatron's optic sensors. Nightshade turned to leave.

"So, even now you defy me," the blinded Decepticon said. "Very well then. We could have used your strength, but now the gauntlet has been cast."

Nightshade turned back in time to see Galvatron's image dissolve back into light. It quickly reshaped itself again, this time taking the form of Soundwave.

"Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, eject," Soundwave commanded, opening his chest plate. "Operation: Bind and destroy."

Three cassette tapes flew from Soundwave's chest, and he vanished. The tapes transformed themselves into two humanoid robots, and a black metal cat.

Rumble and Frenzy grabbed Nightshade's arms, holding him there while Ravage moved in for the kill.

"I still have a few tricks left! Beast mode!" Nightshade's transformation sequence pulled Rumble and Frenzy off of their feet. Ravage stopped short just in time to avoid being sandwiched between his two comrades, but they slammed together and dissipated. Then, Nightshade turned to face Ravage. "You'll never take me back! RARRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

The bat's scream seemed to have the desired effect, as Ravage backed off a few meters. The sound echoed through the emptiness several times before dying down. Ravage did not approach again.

Nightshade breathed a sigh of relief--then instinctively shrank back as he heard a rhythmic growl.

Ravage was laughing at him.

Rhinox started as Nightshade sat up suddenly.

"I tried to keep them quiet, Nightshade," Rhinox said. "But I couldn't keep them away."

"What're you--" Nightshade stopped in mid-sentence, seeing a cheetah and a white tiger standing near the table. "It's fine, Rhinox. Diagnosis?"

"When you first transformed into your beast form, your internal repair system thought the bat's echolocation was an improperly configured weapon. In order to help you, it started making modifications of its own accord. Even as we speak, your beast mode's voice box is being completely rewired into a high-grade sonic refractor."

"Sonic refractor?" Cheetor repeated. "Ultra-gear!"

"That, it is," Rhinox agreed. "And rare. I've heard of such things, but until today, I've never seen it before."

"What triggers such a turn of events?" Nightshade asked.

"Triggers sometimes vary," Rhinox replied. "But in the majority of recorded cases, the beast form of the unit in question was manually modified."

"That's basically what I did," Nightshade said. "Using the panther as a starting template, I added on bits of bat where they'd be most useful. So, how did you figure this out?"

"I figured it out when you let loose with a sonic beam, in your sleep," Rhinox answered. "Shortly before you woke up, you punched a hole in the wall." He stepped aside, giving Nightshade a clear look at his handiwork. "Must've been some dream you were having."

Nightshade's eyes widened when he saw the six-inch tear in the metal. If he could do that in his sleep...

"You should also know that in all recorded occurrences, the rewiring process has had strange side-effects," Rhinox continued. "In your case, the pitch of your voice jumping up and down."

"What about the feeling of loss of self?" Nightshade asked anxiously.

"Well, I'm no psychiatrist, but because you only started feeling that way around the first jump in pitch, I think it's safe to assume that that will end when the process ends. Which should only be another forty cycles, assuming you remain in beast mode and allow your repair system to finish it."

"But I can't."

"Why not?" Tigatron asked. "To have such a weapon in beast mode could mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"I made a promise, Tigatron." Nightshade turned his head toward Rhinox. "You kept your end of the baaarrrgain, and so should I. It's time I took that program out of the computer."

"Go back to sleep, Nightshade. Finish the modifications." Rhinox was insistent. "Doctor's orders."

Doctor's orders. Nightshade rolled his eyes. Right. Having never seen it before, Rhinox probably wanted to monitor Nightshade until the rewiring process sorted itself out.

"Whatever," Nightshade shrugged. Now or later made no difference, as far as he was concerned. He stretched out on the table and hunkered down for another snooze.

-End Chapter Five-