A/N: Thank you ever so much for reviews, LadyStarscream, Cargo-Cache and Architeuthis! I love you all!
About Abyssinian cats: they are not a modern breed - they'd remained pretty the same since ancient Egyptians worshipped them, and I figure there must have been something pretty similar lurking in Africa a million years ago as well. If not... fiction, remember? ;D

Er, sorry for lack of creativeness in this chapter - the next one is episode-free ;)
The grammar... /sigh/ I'm working on it.

Disclaimer: Kittar and Rust: mine. The rest: someone else's.

part nine
All about sparks

Sparkles creatures are not reliable. Young-spark creatures can be violent. Sparks make a good subject for a boy talk ;)

-

-

-

The sudden electronic screech from the radio almost made Rattrap fell off the chair. Before he regained his balance, the static noises turned into a rumbling voice.
$$ Rhinox to maximal base, do you read me? $$ "Wow, Rhinox, good ta hear ya, buddy! What's da news in insanely high and frozen places?" $$ /chuckle/ I'm using half a day's energon ration just to keep my servos from freezing, but Tigatron is faring very well. $$ "Huh, no wonder, wit' dis fur coat. An it looks like yer laser communicator's working pretty good." $$ Mhm. I'd like to run few more tests before I go back. $$ "No problemo, I'll be here when you call. At least as long as dat red spawn of a demon is out, dat is." There was a sound of two persons trying not to laugh. $$ Till the next call then. Rhinox out. $$
--------------------------------------------------------------

To be perfectly honest, Megatron had allowed Tarantulas to experiment with cloning just to have something to occupy his mind after the reprogramming fiasco.

Tarantulas, on his part, was plain bored; he didn't have anyone to talk to at the moment, the few devices he'd been working on lately maliciously refused to activate, and he didn't want to think about anything that started with an 'a' and lived in a deep space. So he pulled an old project out of a recycle unit to have a small break. Though he rolled his optics at Megatron's choice of subject. It bordered on an obsession, really. The transmuter had been built especially for Dinobot too.
Well, it was a good idea, and he intended to use it to his own advantage. If only Megatron hadn't changed the plans just because an opportunity to capture the rhino arose... Stupid lizard.

Tarantulas let the tyrant meddle with the ready equipment, while he himself withdrew to the safe distance. It always paid off to put someone else between you and the prototype machinery. They tended to be unstable.

And, being a prototype and unstable, the cloning sphere short-circuited and broke, but not before it fulfilled its purpose.
Megatron laughed. "Success!"
Scorponok, being only a backup scientist in this endeavor, was less than enthusiastic. "Very impressive. But, uh, what do we need him for?"
Megatron surveyed the waking creature with a deceptive smile. He didn't actually plan anything beforehand, but now the answer seemed obvious. It had a word 'infiltration' in it, and the clone eagerly assured them it would be a piece of energon crystal. Then something small darted along the wall, and the clone jumped after it so suddenly, that Blackarachnia yelped and almost fell off the floater. Terrorsaur, ever so helpful, pulled her off it completely, just so he could fly her to the safety of the floor.
/Whack/ "Get your hands off me!"

Rust snorted quietly at flyer's equally quiet cursing, but his optics didn't left the brown creature, that at the moment was gobbling down a hunted rat.
"It doesn't resemble him much."

Everyone stared at him, the clone included.
"It's identical to Dinobot!" Scorponok finally said.
"Is not! His voice is lower pitched and more harsh, he moves differently, he even has a different stripes pattern!"
The stares wandered to the clone, then went back to him.
"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you can't see it! And it doesn't even have a spark, one scan for life signatures and it's fried!"
The stares remained in place. Finally, Rust shrugged. "Whatever." He looked away. "I bet they're not gonna fall for it," he murmured.
"Really? What's the stake?"
The blue bot glanced at the red one and grinned. "You name it."
"The looser swaps six megas of patrol for winner's monitor duty," Terrorsaur said immediately, extending a fist. Rust punched it in acceptance. "Deal."
Sucker, they both thought.
"Terrorsaur, Rust," Megatron's voice boomed above them. "Since you're getting along so well, you will go to remove the original Dinobot from the picture, yess." He considered it for a moment and added, "preferably without terminating him."
----------------------------------------------------------

"Why do I always have to work with him?" the pterodactyl murmured, flopping through the air just above the wolf's head.
"One: two times does not make an 'always', and two: you're a treacherous little worm who can't be trusted, and I'm a perfect bot to keep an eye on you," Rust informed him cheerfully, and, true to his word, he kept an eye (both eyes, even) on the flyer almost the whole way, which was rather unnerving in Terrorsaur's opinion. "Stop staring at me," he snapped finally.
"Give me something better to look at, then."
"How about a pair of uglies?"
"Huh?" Rust followed his companion's gaze, and sniggered. "Don't be mean, not everyone can have our looks. And get down before they see you."

&&&&

Dinobot narrowed his eyes and looked around inconspicuously. The movement he spotted didn't appear again, but...
"Hide," he ordered, not allowing his steps to falter one bit. Few meters away, Kittar raised her head to glance at him curiously, and then disappeared among the boulders.

&&&&

Rust smirked. "He spotted us."
"How do you know?"
"He stopped checking where the cat is. My guess is, he told her to hide to have her out of the way."
"So now what?"
Rust shrugged. "We follow your plan."

&&&&

It was so obviously a trap, that Dinobot felt insulted. Did Megatron seriously think he would blindly rush into the cave after the flyer? Pathetic. He stepped inside slowly, adjusting his vision to the darkness and searching for any sings of other Predacons or booby traps. He found none.

Outside the cave, the wolf transformed and outstretched his arms at the cave entrance's sides. He waited patiently, glaring at the warrior's back.
Will he, or will he not look back?
He didn't.

With a trademark screech, Terrorsaur shot out of the narrow opening up on the mountainside. Rust couldn't see it, but the flyer's optics were closed. He only opened them when he felt the sun on his face.
Primus, I hate flying in caves...
He somersaulted and did a spin dive just for the feel of it before he turned to shoot at the cave.
"Show off," Rust murmured with an approving grin, launching all his grenades. (He had eight, if you're curious).

"Rust in peace, old-timer," Terrorsaur sneered, and this was when things went wrong.

Rust with a yelp landed on the ground, with a laser burn on his shoulder, and Terrorsaur was hit by something yellow, that lunged at him from the mountain slope.

A pain in his back, his angered screech, two shots from his shoulder cannons.
A pained scream, a soft noise of transformation.
The gravitation claiming both him and his attacker.

Terrorsaur choked as he hit the ground and his back flared in pain. He registered a limp cat falling straight at him, then there was a shot from the side and the cat was shoved out of his field of vision. He stood up with a grunt, and stumbled in the direction where the Maximal fell.

Rust's optics widened in alarm. "Terror, don't move!"

'I'm gonna tear her apart with my bear hands' was what the flyer intended to say in response, but he only got as far as 'gonna', and then he fell to his knees, fighting a sudden dizziness. "Wha-- what?.."

"Told you not to move!" Rust came to stop by his side. Oh slag, what was he supposed to do? The flyer's back was drenched with energon, but he couldn't see any wounds... No wait, here it is! A single, narrow slit, just below the neck. The energon was pouring from it.
A moment's hesitation, and Rust's fingers pried into the gap, closed around the edge and pulled. Terrorsaur screamed something extremely rude, but Rust didn't pay attention, 'cause now he could see what the problem was.
"What the (&#$) is your main energon vessel doing on your back!"
"Powering my jets, you moron!"
"Right now it's cut open and leaking you to death, STOP moving!"
Blue fingers plunged into the wound, trying to keep the cut edges of a tube together. Slag it, slag it all, how do you stop a major leaking like this?
"Slow down your fuel pump and stop moving," he ordered, with a free hand reaching for the Emergency Kit. And, because he'd been ordered to inform Megatron of the outcome immediately, he also activated his comlink.
----------------------------------------------------------

Megatron listened to Rust's report, smirking at Terrorsaur's whines in the background. He ordered the duo back to base, and turned to the clone.
"It is time for you to do your worst. Go!"
The creature smirked. "As you command, mighty Megatron," it said and stalked of.
"He's so much more pleasant than the original," the tyrant commented, looking after him with a smile of a proud papa.
----------------------------------------------------------

"Now aren't you glad we have a deal?"
"Slag off," a muffled voice murmured.
"You're amazingly talkative today."
"Slag off," a muffled voice murmured.
"And to think I left my racer at home."
"Thank the Primus," a muffled voice murmured.
The wolf stopped to look at the pterodactyl slumped on his back. "What was that supposed to mean?"
"That Platform of Death is the last thing I wanna see," the flyer murmured in muffled voice. And then he tucked his beak deeper under his wing, closed his eyes, and slipped off-line. Rust rolled his eyes and went on.
----------------------------------------------------------

In a dark cave few stones rattled on a side of a large pile, and the next nano Dinobot burst from under it with a roar. He shook himself off, beastmoded to save energy and enhance internal repairs, and took a look around. The cave-in trapped him in here for good. He growled. The ambush's purpose obviously hadn't been to terminate him, but to detain him for whatever reason, and he was angry with himself for stepping right in it. And without putting up a fight too. True, he'd managed to shoot at Rust just before the ceiling gave in, but he wasn't sure if he scored. He tapped his talons, and then started looking for a way out.
It presented itself pretty quickly, with a faint, bluish glow emanating from the cave's wall. A small vein of energon. A hopelessly unstable, useless energon. Dinobot wrenched few crystal off the wall, and felt them prickling with a wild energy itching to get free.
Perfect.
----------------------------------------------------------

The mountain grumbled at yet another explosion at its side. Dinobot grumbled, pushing himself through the created opening. At times like that he truly regretted his frame wasn't a bit smaller. Once outside, he beastmoded again, and a sharp smell he felt made him tense for a brief moment. Energon. Not a raw energon he was handling just a few cycles before, no. This was a sickening stench of a live energon, from transformer's fluid systems. He gritted his teeth, and stalked slowly toward the source of the smell, knowing already what he'd find.
It looked even worse than he thought. The puddles of silvery energon were splashed all over the place, stained with few swirls of dark mech-fluids. Dinobot contemplated them in silence. This massive energy loss for someone so tiny... It wasn't his responsibility to keep her safe, but still...
"I've told you to hide, cat," he said finally. And, being done with goodbye, he started toward the base. A spec of color nearby caught his optic.

----------------------------------------------------------

"A lousy job," Scorponok commented, inspecting the repairs Rust had applied on flyer's wound. The young bot shrugged. "It's not like I've ever had to patch anyone up before. He'll be all right?" "Yes. A minor repairing and re-energizing is all he needs. You are to check on clone's progress. His beacon frequency is 9462,88." Rust nodded, stuffing new grenades in his launchers. "I'll be on my way in a cycle. Emm, sarge... you think Dinobot will join us again if we get rid of the Maximals?" "Probably. Why?" "No reason," Rust assured, trying in vain to hide a smile of a fiendish kind. "I'll report if anything interesting happens."
--------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap carefully peeked down. A glimpse of a bubbling lava flow bellow made him shudder. "Talk about your Pit," he threw over his shoulder. He didn't get any response, and shook his head, scrambling onto a log, conveniently spanning the chasm. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something really wrong with Dinobo-- the log shook violently.
"HEY!"
Dinobot smirked and kicked at the unsteady bridge again.
"What are ya doin'!"

"I should think it would be obvious..." Another kick, and the log disappeared in the chasm, taking Rattrap with it. The clone looked after him. "...even for a Maximal." Then he jerked his head up, as a gray blur reached the opposite cliff edge.

The wolf gaped first down, and then up at him. "Neat," he said with a mixture of surprise and admiration in his voice. "So who else is to deal with?"
" /snarl/ Optimus at the base, and Cheetor somewhere in the area."
"OK, cool, so go back and get rid of the ape, I'll keep an eye for the cheetah." As soon as the raptor stalked away, Rust jumped to his feet. During their brief conversation his gaze had slid down to the glowing flow few times, and he noticed what the clone overlooked.
So now he ran along the cliff edge, looking down with bright eyes and mouth half opened in excitement. A lava surfing!
I got to try it sometime!
After a while he realized he was muttering directions. "Left, to the left, now on that rock to the right, NO, to the right, you stupid rat!" He chuckled at his spectator instincts and shut up, but he still followed the unwilling competitor, until he decided to blow this joint - literally.
The wolf's head jerked up as a rock-rocket zipped out of the chasm.
"WOW!"
I gotta try this sometime!

----------------------------------------------------------

--Code incorrect--
"Argh!" the clone threw his hands up in frustration. Anything else aside, he'd got zapped five times already. Lashing his tail angrily, he stalked to the radio and activated an open channel on a predacon frequency. Being only equipped with a small beacon, he lacked other means of communicating with his master. The message wouldn't be coded, but he doubted Maximals were listening - they had problems of their own.
"Megatron, the defense system requires deactivation code, I do not know it."
The resulted commotion startled him, which only showed how little he knew about Predacons.
$$ Just hack into their system, and... $$
$$ Wazzpinator knew lizard-thing would... $$
$$ Try kicking the computer, maybe... $$
$$ Whose bright idea was it to send that... $$
$$ You may need to access the computer core directly... $$
$$ Move your tail, 'cause Rattrap's survived, and when he tells Optimus... $$
$$ SILENCE! $$
A brief silence followed.
$$ Rust, stall Optimus. Scorponok, instruct the clone. The rest of you - off the line! $$
----------------------------------------------------------

"Rattrap's trail ends here." Cheetor's worried face turned to Optimus. "You don't think he..."
"No. No, Dinobot said they've crossed the chasm, though I don't know h--"

/swoosh/ "iiiiiiIIIiiiieeeeeee!" /THUMP/

"Jumping gyros, what was that?"
"I'll check it, you--" The cheetah disappeared among the rocks. "--wait here," Optimus ended with a sigh and took off. It took them few cycles to locate the crush site. Something just started moving among the rubbles.
"Rattrap? Rattrap! Are you okay?"
Rattrap got to his feet, paying no attention to Cheetor and brushing himself off. The action was accompanied by a low sound, which, as Optimus slowly realized, was an angry, muttered monologue. "...when I lay my hands on 'im..."
"Rattrap? What happened?"

The small bot looked up at him. "I've TOLD ya, ya can nevah trust a Pred! Dat (#&!#$) son of a (!&$#) tried to scrap me!"
A sudden laugh made them all jump.
A wolf grinned down at them from the top of a rock. "Neat. I didn't know that one," he said, in a voice full of laughter, and jumped out of sight almost immediately. Quite a wise move, considering the fact that the spot he left was pulverized with firepower a split nano later.

Frowning and gnashing his teeth, Optimus gestured the other two to split up and search, and then called out. "How did you force Dinobot to work for you?" he wasn't really interested in an answer, he just hoped that Rust would respond and give away his position. His hopes were only fulfilled halfway.
"We didn't." Optimus half turned and pointed in one direction, while Cheetor gestured in another. Rattrap looked at them both as if they were dumbos, and indicated an entirely different way.

"You know, you dumb Maxis have lost me a bet!" the wolf's voice sounded, and all of them shifted, pointing the way where the voice came from... Each of them a different one.

Rust put his muzzle close to the ground in front of a hollow rock. "I don't believe you didn't notice we've sent you a copy!" The complaint sounded all around him, and he grinned at his own mastership. An echo was a wonderful invention.

Optimus gave up on sound-hunting and took to the air, while Rattrap and Cheetor wandered between the rocks, weapons ready.
"I mean, he doesn't even look like Dinobot. He doesn't even have a spark. What kind of an idiot wouldn't recognize a sparkles clone?"

"You talk to much!" Cheetor yelled, jumping round a corner and sweeping the ground with blasts. Then he made a surprised face, when it proved to be free of any irritating canines.

Rust chuckled. "Can't resist, it's a bad-guys' trait." He navigated carefully around Rattrap. "Besides, I can babble all I want, 'cause our clone is in your base right now..." the rat-bot was tilting his head, tensed and ready to fire, but he was gazing in the wrong direction. Rust bored into his back with his eyes, sneaking closer. "...alone..." he finished sentence in a whisper, and then yelped and hurled himself backwards, as Rattrap span in place and shot him in the face.

"Gottcha."
A lifetime spent in narrow alleys and mines' corridors can have its benefits. Rattrap was accustomed with echoes; Rust's sound plays didn't fool him for a nano.

"That's mine line," Rust complained, getting his feet under him and beating a retreat, as Optimus and Cheetor zeroed in on rat's position.
----------------------------------------------------------

The clone fluttered his tongue, pleased with himself. He'd found the computer core all by himself! (Technically, Scorponok had told him where he should look, but it was him who navigated through the enemies' base, so...) He frowned at the control panels, and started pushing buttons at random.
----------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot was getting increasingly worried. Whatever Megatron's plan was, it seemed to be working. He'd tried to contact the base five times already, with no result. And it wasn't that he was being jammed. He was sure his signal was getting through - there just wasn't anyone to answer. With a true relief he greeted the sight of the force field around Axalon. At least the base was safe-- wait.
He glared around suspiciously, scanning for any hostilities. Wouldn't it be ironic, if he let the Predacons into the base himself? Megatron would love that.
But there were no signatures to be found. "Sentinel, stand down," he commanded, adjusting the weight on his back.
----------------------------------------------------------

Optimus face was grim. "He's right. I've left Dinobot-- the clone-- in the base. We've got to get back!"

"Too-late-too-late-too-laaAAAATe!" Rust cheerfully howled his opinion from some hiding place. Optimus was prepared to ignore that, but the words were shortly followed by Rust himself. The wolf rushed at Cheetor, sweeping him off his feet, and run away, laughing. Both Cheetor and Rattrap perused.

Rust laughed, enjoying the chase. Hey, maybe he could outmaneuver them? He turned, accelerated, and jumped over the chasm.
Nope. It didn't go as planned. One - the two Maxis halted in time. Two - Optimus was airborne again, and shot him from above, spoiling his calculated trajectory.
A quick terrorizing and flailing his arms madly, a breath-taking impact with a cliff wall, and he was clinging for dear life to the chasm edge, a little hurt and very defenseless. Scrap.
And then someone, who shall remain unnamed, shot him in the back. Twice.
"Hey!" he screamed a protest, spitting energon and scrambling to regain a handhold. "That was extremely un-maximal of you!"
"Hold your fire," came an angered voice, and then the all-mighty Optimus landed in front of him. With a wrist-cannon aimed straight at him, he couldn't help noticing.

"You should give your troops a lecture on Maximal honor and such," Rust said, craning his neck to look down the chasm. A long way down...
Optimus gritted his teeth. "Surrender, Rust. We'll see if Megatron values you enough to trade you for Axalon."
The blue bot sniggered. It was the funniest thing he'd heard from the maxi leader so far. "Are you mental?" he asked good-naturedly, and pushed away from the edge.

There was a triple gasp and a single, joyful 'yeeeee-ha!'
Then Optimus came to his senses and dived into the chasm after the crazy Predacon. He caught a glimpse of a figure in a skydiving pose, then it shifted, giving the impression that Rust was preparing to plunge head first into the lava, and then there was an explosion. The blow from it shoved Primal upwards, and when the smoke cleared, Rust was nowhere to be seen.

"Is... is he?..." Cheetor leaned so far in a futile search for the blue bot, that he almost fell into the chasm himself.
"Yes." Optimus forcefully turned the teenage bot around. "We need to get back to base." And to leave the thinking for later.
----------------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot surveyed the improved CR-chamber doubtfully, and shook his head. It might have been better, but he had no idea how to operate it. He turned to the other one, obsolete, perhaps, but working on automatic, and carefully put an armful of off-line cat in it. He'd been astonished, to say the least, to find Kittar in one piece and functional. How did that happen, and where all the energon came form was a small mystery, which he'd stored in a 'for later' directory. Right now he needed to find out why the base was deserted. He made sure that the machine began repairs, and started toward the door. It slid open in front of him. Two raptors stopped dead in their tracks.
----------------------------------------------------------------

"We--" /BLAM, BLAM/ "--don't have TIME for this!"
"Try an tell it to dem, Fearless Leader!"
They cowered in a dry riverbed, as tree arachnids and two flyers enthusiastically presented before them the display of a blind firepower. After a moment it subsided a little, when the flyers took off to flank Maximals' position.

"Oh man, we're scrapped now," Rattrap whined, and then jerked as a hand grabbed his neck. A yelp to his left told him that Cheetor received a similar treatment. "Whatta--?" "BigBot, what are you doi--!"
"Hold on!"
----------------------------------------------------------

Life wasn't fair, Waspinator thought, hitting the ground. Why such things always happened to him? Why wasn't it Terrorsaur who got rammed out of the sky by a flying tripe-bot unit? It just wasn't FAIR. He fluttered his wings to check if they'd survived, (they did, thank Primus), and decided to just lie around for a bit. This way, if any more slag would happen, at least it wouldn't happen to him.

&&&&

"Dat was crazy," Rattrap gasped, uncovering his optics. Then he took one look at the ground down, down, down below, and covered them again.
"You're kidding! It's way cool!"
Trust a kid to be enthusiastic. Sheesh.
"It worked. But you two are going to be put on a diet," Optimus grunted. He set his jets on maximum burn, but with a double cargo he was flying depressingly slow. Terrorsaur would catch up to them--
-a few shots missed him narrowly-
--right about now.

"You're finished, Maximals!" Terrorsaur screeched gleefully.

Dangling in their leader's grip, few hundred meters above the ground, battered and frustrated, Rattrap and Cheetor experienced something like a short, spontaneous synchronization.
They turned their heads to look at each other.
They turned their heads to look at the offender.

They raised their guns in a menacing manner.Terrorsaur stopped in midair. Oops...

Optimus didn't pay attention to a set of shots below him. He didn't worry about his quickly lowering altitude or the warning cracking of energon surge either. All his concerns were in the area of speeds, ships, raptors, and T-rexes. A purple T-rexes approaching his ship, and brown raptors bowing to them to be exact.

"Pull up, pulluppullup!" Rattrap's panicked voice cut through Primal's stupor in time to convert a disastrous crash into a controlled crash. As soon as he got his feet under him, Optimus ran toward Axalon.
Too-late-too-late-too-laaAAAATe! an echo of Rust's taunting rang in his head. Without a base, without a safe place to recharge, re-energize and repair themselves, Maximals would be finished. And Megatron was right next to their base right now.
"No!"

And as if in respond to his desperate shout, an energy field snapped in place, sending the tyrant flying. The raptor with interest traced Megatron's trajectory, said something to him... and maximized.

Optimus felt his knee-joints going week with relief.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something must have gone terribly wrong, because Megatron seemed to be really pissed off when he radioed the retreat. Scorponok was instantly very grateful that this whole cloning business was not his idea. But then again, he was supposed to stop Optimus from reaching the base, so he might get in trouble anyway. He shifted nervously. Well, the least he could do was to make sure everyone make it back to base safely. He ran a check-up. Terrorsaur growled that he was fine, slag off, Waspinator simply raised to the air to show he was fine too, and Tarantulas ignored him. All safe, sound, and in character. Scorponok then radioed Rust, and the youngster didn't respond. That was worrying.

After few more tries, he finally got a response.
$$ ...mmm? $$
"Where are you?"
$$ ...do I really have to tell you that? $$ The voice was nothing like a defiance. If anything, it seemed drowsy. Scorponok narrowed his visor, confirming.
$$ Somewhere narrow and sticky. $$ A short pause. $$ Is this possible I'm having a hangover? $$
The Predacons' second in command expressed his doubts on the matter.
$$ Then I got hit in the head, badly. $$ Another thoughtful pause. $$ Oh, I know what happened. $$ A beat. $$ I'm in a crack in a cliff wall, with a very pretty lava river below. It'll take me some time to figure out how to get out of here. $$ A beat. $$ Funny, I'd swear I had five fingers the last time I looked. $$ There was few small noises and a grunt. $$ Y'know, sarge, don't wait up, I don't think I'm gonna make it. $$

Rust tilted his head, contemplating the energon dripping from the half of his hand. From his comlink came an irritated sigh. $$ Relay your coordinates, I'm sending flyers to help you $$ The blue bot blinked few times, feeling more than a bit foolish.
Help. Right. Didn't think of that.
Well, why should I? I've been on my own since
... His face clouded suddenly. I've always been on my own.

&&&&

"Here's the place." Terrorsaur hovered, looking around.
"Wazzpinator not see crazy-head."
plop

"...the name's Rust, slaggit..."

plop

Waspinator hurriedly looked up, wiping away the drops of energon from his helmet.
Rust gave them a small, tree-fingered wave. "Y'know, on the afterthought, the rat might have had a point to put a rock between himself and the explosion," he said, and fell off the crack, straight on Terrorsaur's head.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Let it never be said that Rattrap wasn't stubborn. "I ain't gonna buy dat scrap," he said for the umpth time.
Maybe being obnoxious is his way of dealing with stress, Optimus thought lazily. He didn't interfere. Half lying in one of chairs, he savored having Axalon and his crew safe and sound. What a delightful feeling...
"...if dere was some 'clone', Mr Excuse, den I wanna see it."
"Well," Dinobot mused with unusual calm, "I can arrange a meeting, if you insist, Cheese-ball." And with that, he belched and raised a claw to pick his teeth.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The CR blared an alarm, making Scorponok jump. "What now?" He studied the machine and with an irritated sigh went to rummage in a supply locker. After a while he came back with a bunch of small metal rods. He fed the doses of wolfram, cobalt and titanium to the insatiable tank. He'd already checked the machine for any malfunctions and found nothing, but it kept eating up trace elements at a frightening pace. He'd have to check it again once Rust's repairs were over. And notify Megatron their supplies were running short. He sighed.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up, Sleeping Ugly!" The scratchy voice brought Rust back from the depths of off-line. "Wha--at?" he mumbled, yawning. The repair liquid sloshed around, as he shifted on the raised platform of CR-tank. A white face above him grinned maliciously. "Oh, it's you," Rust commented with a scowl. "How touching of you to watch over me."
"I wanted to make sure you didn't forget about our bet."
The blue scowl deepened. "Dumb Maxis. So when do I take your stupid, fragging, slaggin' boring monitor duty?"
"I'll let you know," Terrorsaur said haughtily and departed with the air of superiority.
"There's nothing to gloat about!" Rust called after him. Then he huffed, rested elbows on knees and face on forearms, and sulked.
----------------------------------------------------------

The soft hum of CR-chamber and occasional snore were the only sounds at the Axalon's bridge, until Rattrap slid of the chair he'd fallen asleep into, and landed on the floor with a clang.
"AW! Oh, scrap!" The rat-bot climbed to his feet, scowling, as all his injuries started to ask, what did he think he was doing. "I knew it's no good to let the cat mess with CRs," he grumbled, shooting a vicious glare at the humming machine. He would have rant more, if the radio didn't spoke suddenly with a familiar, though unusually worried voice. $$ Rhinox to Maximal base, are you receiving? $$
Rattrap jumped to the speakers. "Rhinox, ol' buddy! Great to hear ya! Oh, man, did ya miss one heck of a ball!"
$$ Rattrap! $$ The relieve in mechanic's voice was evident. $$ Thank the Primus. What's been happening there? I've lost contact with you for over a mega-cycle. $$
Rattrap smirked. The last connection took place good few megas ago, and he was willing to bet any amount of credits that the remaining time Rhinox had spent stripping the radio contraption down in search for any hidden glitches. "Yeah, well, ya won't believe da stunt ol' purple-face pulled..." He went into a detailed report on the recent event, with extra comments added. "... an Kittar's been out since then, an no-one knows what happened to her," he finished.

The rhino shook his head, absentmindedly side-stepping in a futile search for a patch of snow that was less than a knee-deep. "A clone. Who would have thought."
$$ Not me, dat's fer sure. Though I knew dere was something wrong wit' da thing, I just couldn't 'ave put my finger on it. Anyway, yer be comin' back anytime soon? $$
"Yes, the radio is set up, and Tigatron knows it as well as it can be known." The technician smiled at the tiger stretched lazily in the snow, and something occurred to him. "Rattrap, are you alone?"

$$ Er... yeah. Why? $$
"Enter my private data, please."
$$ Huh? Sure. Gimme a nano. $$ There was a brief pause. $$ Password? $$
Rhinox recited a string of numbers.

$$ Am in. What am I lookin' for? $$
"Find the directory 54343, subfolder 467BP."
$$ Man, I'll never understand how can ya catalogue anythin' like dis, Big Green, $$ the rat-bot complained. $$ Got it. Now what? $$
"Send it here. You don't need to code it." $$ Here goes. Oh, hey, look who decided to wake up! $$ The next voice that came over the radio was feminine and irritated.
$$ You're damaged. Why aren't you in CR? $$

Rhinox could almost see the frown on the orange face, and fought hard not to smile.
$$ Because someone was occupyin' da only CR we know how to use, Miss I-wanna-proper-equipment! Hey! Watch it! Aw, ow, frag it, female! $$
Rhinox waited until the noises of Rattrap being forcefully locked in the repair chamber stopped before he spoke, a note of reproach in his voice. "Kittar..."
$$ I'm just doing my job, $$ the cat insisted, sounding hurt.
"You should try and do it a bit more politely," Rhinox sighed. "Please don't drive Rattrap mad at least until I get back."
$$ Humph. Kittar out. $$ And the connection was cut off abruptly.

Rhinox shook his head sadly, downloading the files Rattrap had sent him to a datapad. "She would benefit from this as well," he murmured. "Alas, she doesn't care."
"What is it?" Tigatron asked, raising and coming closer, shaking the snow off his fur.

"Books. Few classics and some modern novels - the latter not the best of arts, but they should give you an insight on the nowadays social life on Cybertron and the colonies."
The tiger maximized and smiled gratefully at the green bot, taking the pad. "Thank you." The technician nodded, returning the smile. "I'll be going now. Good luck."
"Fare well, Rhinox"
----------------------------------------------

Kittar went through the Axalon like a determined tidal wave, sweeping the Maximals off their rooms and into the CR-Chambers, and then sat down to think of the problem Rattrap had brought up. The only Maximal beside her who knew how to operate the three of four CRs was Rhinox. That was a tad problematic. The only way to solve it, she concluded, was to install automatic repair modules. She nodded to herself and set to work.

About a mega-cycle later she had three modules ready and frowned at them. To install them she would need someone to hold them in place from the outside, while she worked on the wires from the inside. She considered her options. Rattrap? Too short. Dinobot? Would do just fine. That's why Dinobot didn't even manage to step out of the CR before he was confronted with the small medic.
"You will help me install these in CRs."

He snarled, automatically going into a defiance mode. "I shall do no such thing. It is not a task for a warrior." He stepped past her, paying no attention to an angry hiss, but then he stopped. "Unless," he said, "you are able to make for me some blend to preserve an animal's pelt?" Kittar frowned, consulting the knowledge of organics she'd gained so far, and nodded. "I'll make it when we're done," she said, since the CR were much more important than some pelt. Dinobot nodded too. "It's a deal," he finished formally.

-------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------

-

-

It was a good thing that Rhinox was never prone to spookiness, as the landscape he was patiently trotting through could give the creeps to a lesser spark. Twisted, petrified trees, bizarre rock formations and gullies abound; the air was thick with unstable energon, and here and there an energon geyser erupted. The fiery smudge across the sky looked so much like a normal element of the scenery, that it took him a moment to notice and identify it. But when he did, he erupted from an easy trot straight into a mad canter.

----------------------------------------------

The Predacons detected a falling stasis pod much faster than the Maximals did, and the intercepting team was already on their way.
Scorponok clicked his claws uncomfortably, searching the surroundings with his gaze for any trace of Blackarachnia. She'd been there only a cycle ago, making fun of him, and now she was gone. Surly he would have heard if some animal attacked her?

Perched on a branch directly above the gray bot, Blackarachnia smirked and aimed her launcher. She would have prefer to test her new poison on Megatron himself, but the blindly loyal second-in-command was almost as good, and as a bonus she'd get to work on the protoform alone. She wasn't as good with the programming as Tarantulas was, but she was pretty sure she'd manage to obtain a normal, and at least half-intelligent person - something the Predacons base sorely lacked.

Scorponok was about ready to backtrack his way to the point where he last heard the widow's mocking voice, when his world suddenly exploded with pain, and he felt himself twitching involuntarily as the paralysis cut him off his body, and even his vocalizer failed. Over his fading screams, he'd heard an overly sweet feminine voice. "Oh, so sorry, shell-head. I took you for a Maximal. But don't worry, it's not lethal, and I'll soon be back for you - along with our new Predacon!" And he was left alone.
----------------------------------------------------

Cheetor halted rapidly, gasping and wide-eyed. It was a very normal reaction for a bot who suddenly came nose to muzzle with a whirling chain-gun, but after just split a nano the weapon was lowered, and two sighs of relieve sounded.
"Cheetor." "Rhinox." And then: "What are you doing here?" they said together.
"Optimus sent me to meet you, and I saw the stasis pod falling, and I've radioed Optimus about it, but it'll be some time before he gets here."
Rhinox nodded acknowledgement. "I'm glad you're here. I'll need your help - the protoform is dying."
Cheetah's eyes widened noticeably. "Dying?"
----------------------------------------------------

"Hmm. Interesting." Tarantulas absentmindedly tapped in a better recalibrating algorithm to get a more preside readings from the radar, wondered briefly if he should rat on his creation or keep the information for himself, and then reported to Megatron that Scorponok's signature had stopped moving, while Blackarachnia's went on toward the pod. Two cycles later, the flyers were on their way to investigate.

Megatron frowned thoughtfully. He couldn't establish contact with Rust (too much interferences), but the wolf-bot had been in the area on the earlier assignment, and knowing his nose for anything that could prove entertaining, he'd show up anyway. That should be more than enough to ensure capturing the newcomer. Yess.
----------------------------------------------------

Cheetor gaped at the poison dart about an inch away from his optics. Unbelievable, he actually managed to catch it! Wow! After a split nano amazement, he lashed his hand out, sending the thing back to the sender, and she collapsed into a twitching heap.
All right! The valiant cat saves the day!
The familiar buzzing sounded above.
Okay... so the brave cat still fights through the day, with two innocents lives on the line.
"Hey, fly-trashbins! Eat that!" he shouted, squeezing a shot - only one, because cold fires suddenly shot through his frame, while his internal computer informed him of the impending stasis lock. He beastmoded, fighting the queasy feeling in his circuits. Scrap, he'd forgotten about his missing locking chip. Now he had half the normal fighting time - and it was up already.
"Ay!" he yipped, jumping clear of few blasts. "Well, at least I got their attention," he murmured to himself encouragingly, and ran.
----------------------------------------------------------------

The pod's panels were all wide opened, and the Maximal technician was working with trice the speed anyone would expect of him, trying to make it work. Thank the Primus that he was on his way from the construction site - he wasn't normally carrying this much tools with him. Curse the Pit that the pod had been this severely damaged. He'd done what he could, but the big amount of chips and systems were running on a weld and a prayer, and the upload protocol array must have been fried for good, seeing as it kept blocking any attempts to program the protoform with basic data. Narrowing his optics in anger and determination, he overrode the stubborn component, coupling its driver directly to his own hardcore circuits. Then he gritted his teeth. This was not going to be pleasant.
The link activated, the voltage sent through the cables much higher than it was healthy, and in a flash of shorting circuits, Rhinox was blown backward into a nearby rock. The connections had only lasted for few nanos, but as the mechanical voice assured, it's been enough. Barely conscious, the green bot still managed a small, relieved smile. "Beast mode," he choked out, and drifted away.
----------------------------------------------------------------

/Whoop/

More than a little tired and worried now, Cheetor zigzagged in a mad pattern, trying to shake the flyers off--

/Whoop/

--or at least prevent them from hitting him. You'd better hurry up, Rhinox! He jumped aside again.
/Whoop/

What was that sound? It seemed too regular to be natural, but... Hey! He caught the sight of the noisy object and brightened, steering toward it. If he didn't miscount...

One, two, three, jump, five...

/Whoop, went the geyser, catching Waspinator in a painful, instant overload.
/Crunch, went Waspinator.

Unfortunately, Terrorsaur was flying much higher, and the chase continued, until Cheetor felt undoubtedly that if he tried to run for another two meters, he'd fall down on his face. Cheetahs just weren't made for cross-country.

He started maximizing, when the sudden blare of internal alarms reminded him it was a very bad idea. Despite himself, Cheetor whined. "Giga bummer, how can I fight if I can't transform?"
"Problems, pussy cat?"

Cheetor jumped, spinning in midair, and gaped at the big wolf lying on the rock, front paws hanging over the edge lazily. "But you are dead!"
The wolf half opened his jaws in a silent laughter. "Really? Didn't notice. But in that case, please join me." And with that he lunged at Cheetor, teeth first.

Terrorsaur stopped in the air. Oh, good, the dog can chase the cat, while the pterodactyl gets the trophy. He swerved and headed toward the pod.
--------------------------------------------

Rhinox came back on-line after a few cycles, the information of internal damages blinking in red across his vision, but what bothered him more was the pod's computer recurrent announcement. No compatible life forms in range? But there was life on this wasteland, as barren as it was! He'd seen a lizard and something that could be a small rodent fleeing before him earlier, and no doubt there were more of them. Primus, right now even an ant would do, on this planet ants were everywhere! Saving this spark was what mattered; they could worry about more proper alt-mode later--
Proper. Compatible. Rhinox scrambled painfully to his feet. He lacked the vocabulary to vocal the depths of his own stupidity. He should have thought of this earlier - the standard sequencer's setup was to find a form that would best correlate with bot's previous alt-mode. If this bot had been a flyer or a nautical craft... He needed to-- "Rhinox, maximize!"
Nothing happened, except for a few muffled grinds. His transformation circuits were out. He would have cursed, hadn't he been so tired. He could have prevented the current predicament erasing a single command - if he'd just thought of it.
He started looking around for a stick or elongated rock he could take in his mouth and use to push the buttons, when his back flared with pain, and he fall to the ground. And in case he had any doubts as to why did it happen, the cause announced itself with a screechy laugh.
"Well, well, well. Rhinox and a pod. This is my lucky day!"

--------------------------------------------

Cheetor's day wasn't lucky at all. The last few cycles were a blur for him - one moment he was being attacked, and the next thing he knew, he and couldn't-be-Rust were standing few feet apart, their sides heaving, teeth and claws marks all over them.
There was a low chuckle, and sparkles in the green eyes. "You fight pretty well when you're terrified, you know that?"
"I'm not terrified," Cheetor snapped, though it was precisely what he was at the moment. He was wounded, exhausted and stuck in a beast mode. Just one shot from the other bot would probably finish him-- Why was he fighting as a beast, then?
Cheetor carefully circled around the canine, trying to word a half-formed thought. "You... are not Rust."
A snigger. "Man, don't go projecting your identity problems on me."
The cheetah shook his head, now almost certain. "You're his clone, right?"
A wolfish grin appeared. "Good thinking, kitty. But WRONG." The last word was a roar, and in a move almost to fast to perceive, the wolf attacked. Cheetor felt the teeth sinking into his side even as he dodged.
The evasion was unexpected, and Rust howled shortly as he flew over the Maximal, taking a chunk of his side with him. For a nano they both looked equally surprised, Cheetor gaping and Rust squinting at the piece of yellow fur in wolf's mouth. Then Rust looked up and grinned around a mouthful. "Yum."
Cheetor made a dismayed sound of terror and bolted. Rust only paused to spit the fur out with a disgusted 'yuck', before he followed.

--------------------------------------------

She woke up slowly, blinking at the strange yellow light. Slowly, hesitantly, she stretched out her arms - only they weren't arms, they were wings, and she couldn't stretch them properly in the narrow space she was in. For the briefest of moments she panicked, and shot out off the pod with a screech that tasted strange in her mouth - that wasn't a mouth anymore either. For a few moments she simply flew, savoring the wind under her wings and the sun on her feathers, but then she looked down, and her thoughts rapidly came to focus.

She didn't know that foggy scraps of Rhinox's memories got mixed in the basic programming he gave her. She didn't even know what he'd done for her. All she knew was that the bots below were familiar - and she felt a sudden need to defend one of them. With a challenging screech, she descended on the red bot.
The first move seemed very obvious - to lift him off the ground and drop him from the heights. But that didn't work too well - he was a flyer too. She needed something more efficient.
She closed her eyes, searching herself for information of who she was, what she was... and she found them. "Airazor, maximize," she whispered.
After that, the fight was tough and short - her adversary seemed to be too stunned to defend himself effectively, and she soon left him in a pile of broken parts.

Rhinox observed the brief battle with something akin to protector's pride, but also with no small amount of worry - to get here, Terrorsaur had to get past Cheetor first - and there was no telling in what condition the young bot was.

----------------------------------------------------

There was a warning rattle of pebbles behind him, but before Cheetor could react, Rust was on top of him, the jaws closing on his neck.
He struggled, but it's hard to fight when the cables in your neck are crackling, and a mad growling reverberates through your systems.
Straining to keep his optics online, Cheetor pawed weakly at what little of Rust he could reach, and received a painful shake for his troubles.
Why do Predacons keep trying to eat me? he thought miserably, even as the world started darkening around him. And then suddenly the crushing pressure was gone, and he found himself lying on the ground, gasping for air. As his vision cleared a bit, he realized there was a mass of gray fur nearby. He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Rust was sitting nearby on his haunches, staring somewhere in the distance with a grin. "Look-at-that," he said appreciatively. "She's a one good flyer!"
"Wha--? Who?"
The wolf jumped to him and grabbed his neck again, but this time only to jerk his head in the right direction.
"Her."
Still to dizzy to think coherently, Cheetor tried to focus on few dark specs on sky, which gradually blended into a single spec, that indeed could have been a flyer, circling in the sky as if in search for something. He flinched, as a gray muzzle reappeared in his field of vision. "Whattcha think," Rust murmured into yellow ear, never lowering his gaze from the graceful seeker's form, "she's my friend or yours?" And not waiting for an answer, he went to find out.

&&&&

There was an explosion in the air some distance away, and she performed a narrow turn and flew in its direction.
A blue bot stood tall on the top of a boulder, the gun in his hand directed at the sky above - but as soon as she got close, he aimed at her.
"Pred or Maxi?"
She was considering answering this in a civil manner, but then behind him she saw the battered cheetah, barely moving and leaking fluids, and again the strange wave of concern, protectiveness and anger went through her. She transformed and shot. "Get away from him!"
The blue bot threw himself backwards, rolled over his head and laughed. "I guess it's a Maxi, then." He flashed the wounded bot a grin. "Lucky you." And then he was gone.

Cheetor whined quietly, watching the fluffy tail of retreating wolf. He was exhausted, damaged and sore, and once again he needed to be rescued. Life wasn't fair.
"Thanks for help," he murmured dejectedly, as the strange femme landed by his side. He couldn't remember when was the last time he'd felt so wretched.
"It was the least I could do after you defended me," she said with a smile, and suddenly the day didn't seem so bad.
"I guess now we're even," Cheetor said, returning the smile.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

-

-

Few days later, Blackarachnia stomped angrily out of the cleaning facility. She'd had a long and stressful day: her patrol rout led through the swamp again (a courtesy of Scorponok - he didn't appreciate being poisoned, accident or not), she'd been hit on by a moron again, and to top all that, she was still banned from the lab (Megatron's orders. He didn't appreciate having his second poisoned either), and, shock, the last one was hardest to bear.

Being Megatron's pawn was NOT what she wanted from life. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, to wake up to Tarantulas's smirking face, with no memories of her own, and being told that she is a Predacon under some saurian's command, take it or be terminated. She submitted only because she didn't have other choice, but she never accepted it. She was going to take back her freedom, and if the only way to do so was to get rid of Megs… then all the better. But she needed help, and her choices were severely limited. Scorponok and Waspinator were too dumb, and Tarantulas too intelligent (she didn't want to end up double-crossed). That left her with Terrorsaur and Rust. Ugh. What a glorious choice. The pterodactyl was a coward, and wouldn't keep his hands to himself (she only just had a little reminder of that), while Rust was obsessively devoted to Megatron. But he was also fearless and fun-loving, and she could offer a lot of fun… Promise it, anyway. Not that she meant to keep any promises.

&&&&

The bot who invented monitor duty must have been a sadist, Rust decided. The only bright spot during last four-and-a-half megas was when he observed on the radar Terrorsaur's signal nearing Blackarachnia's, only to be abandoned about half a cycle after their paths crossed. Other that that, it was one, big, boredom. The young bot stretched in his chair and grumbled a long and colorful curse at the dumb Maxis, who get him into this mess. HOW on Cybertron could they not recognize a phony raptor? Were they blind?

The steps in a corridor interrupted his brooding. He leaned backwards, pushing at the movable backrest, until he was seeing the upside down doors. An upside down black-yellow shape appeared in the entrance a cycle later, and Rust scowled inwardly. Did she really HAVE to be black-yellow? And THAT shade of yellow at that? The femme stopped in the entrance, regarded him carefully and started toward him.
Rust raised an optic ridge. Was it just him, or were her hips swinging more than usual? He felt his metal pleasantly prickling all over, and blinked.
Electromagnetic field? Oh, please! This trick's for amateurs! And you're not even doing it right!

"Hallo, Blue-optics," she said in her best seductive voice, leaning against his chair. "What's a bot like you doing wasting his talents on a monitor duty?"
With an amazing self-control, he beat a snigger unconscious, before it had a chance to reach his voice-box. You're overdoing it badly, widow.
"Lost a bet, as you well know," he answered with a polite smile. "And when did I skip from being a 'filthy henchbot' to a 'bot like me' ?"

Oh, slag it. She had hoped that their first meeting wouldn't be brought up.
With a smile she leaned over his upturned face. The fact that he was half lying in his chair was giving her an advantage. "I know we didn't start well," she murmured, reaching with her pincer to ruffle a short fur on his chestplate, "But mayb--."
"Your own fault," he interrupted, shifting into the caress. "You shot at me first."
"Let's put it behind us," Blackarachnia proposed sweetly, suppressing the anger boiling in her spark. She wouldn't have started shooting, if he didn't tell her to go back to base, because 'Megs was waiting with dinner', or something along these lines. "I'm sure we could work out quite nice relationship." Her pincer tugged lightly at Rust's beast ear, and blue optics dimmed slightly in appreciation. He shifted again, tipping his head further backwards, his pose almost begging for a kiss. Really, it was just to easy...
"Have I mentioned already how much I don't like your looks?" he asked with a charming smile, and it took her a moment to realize it was NOT a compliment. Her pincer twitched, as she stomped hard on an urge to cut out his vocalizer. She did need his help.
But then his devilish grin was back in place, telling her that he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Well, if that's how he wanted to play... Her pincer moved to his neck menacingly. "You're just asking to loose your voice-box, wolf."
"My, my, what happened to 'blue-optics'?" he asked teasingly, tilting his head, daring her to follow the threat. With some effort she regained her composure, smiled and traced the line of his jaw. He practically purred. If he was trying to play a tough guy, then he was doing a poor job of it. "We don't have to be enemies, Rust. I bet you don't know how nice a femme can be if she wants..."
The young bot blinked few times. Then his face started to twitch. He made few strange, strangled noises. Blackarachnia took a step back, startled, thinking that maybe he was even younger than he looked... And then the remains of his self control vaporized, and he was openly laughing his head off.
The femme jumped back, and a launcher materialized in her hand. "What's so funny!" she screamed angrily. If there was something she hated as much as being a pawn, it was being laughed at.
Rust kicked lightly at the console, swiveling his chair to face her. "Sister," he choked out between laughs, "if you did bet on this, you would lose SO badly!"
The look on her face was something between fury, surprise and incredulity, and he felt obliged to explain. "I can bet that I have more experience with Spark Merging than the rest of the crew combined."
She gasped, more at the way he so bluntly named what she was just hinting at, than anything else. To cover it, she addressed the rest of the comment with a snort. "Sure, and you are an incarnation of Primus himself, right?"
Rust chuckled. "You don't know much of the colonized universe, do you? There are whole systems where SM is highly regarded currency. You'd be amazed how much experience a handsome young bot can gain there."
She stared with disbelieve at his shameless grin. A currency? "You're disgusting!"
"That's your maximal spark speaking."
"How DARE you call me a Maximal!" Her launcher went off almost on its own accord, narrowly missing Rust's head. The next nano, she was flying in a graceful arc toward the nearest wall. She barely had time to register a nasty dent in her midsection, before she had to do something about an advancing wolf-bot - fist clenched and a delighted grin on his face. Seduction? He wasn't interested. Brawls? He was up for them any time.

&&&&

A quiet beeping alerted Scorponok that some minor damages were being inflicted to the comm-room. He went to a monitor he had hooked up to the indoor cameras, and raised his visor to the ceiling in exasperation.
"Rust," he radioed, "put her down."
$$ But she shot at me firs-- OUCH! $$

&&&&

Blackarachnia took an advantage of the momentary distraction, and wrenched herself free, leaving Rust with few new dents and a partly torn beast ear. He let her get away with it, (a superior was watching), but he couldn't resist other small victory. "Oy, widow, you ever need an advice on flirting, just give me a call!"
A string of profanities drifted to him in response. He chuckled.

"You've just made yourself an enemy."
Rust grinned again at the scratchy voice. "Enemies make life interesting," he stated, turning to Terrorsaur. "What are you doing back here so quickly?"

The flyer had absolutely no intention of admitting that his hopes for a date with a certain spider had been once again shoved down the disposal unit, and therefore he had no further use for the patrol time.
"I realized that I'd be blamed if you short-circuited anything, so," he took the chair Rust had abandoned, "move your tail to the patrol route."
Rust made a sound between a snort and a chuckle, leaning against the wall. "No point. Would have to go back as soon as I got there."
"You'll be in trouble if Megatron notices." A careless shrug. "I'll risk it."
"Suit yourself." Terrorsaur watched the monitors for a moment, until curiosity got the better of him. "Why the Pit don't you like her looks?"
Rust raised an optic ridge. "How long have you been here?" "Since she started groping you. So? Why?"
A shrug. "I hate her paint job. And I'm not much into curves either. AND she's boring."
Terrorsaur almost fell off the chair. "Now you're kidding me. She's the most interesting femme a bot can find!"
"No, she's not. Kittar is an interesting femme. Widow is a walking Roxy action-figure. She's so symmetric it makes me queasy."
"You are crazy. Really. Know what? I'll stick with bots who have their cheek plates on the same level, you can have the cat."
A stifled chuckle. "Fine with me. Though I'm not going to limit myself to just one person. I'm surprised you do."
"Well, I'm certainly not going after the bird, and there's no more--" the flyer suddenly fell silent and turned his full attention to the screens. Behind his back, a grin bloomed on a silver-blue face.

Terrorsaur ignored the first two sniggers, but with the third, he swiveled his chair, crossing arms over his chest defensively. "So I happen to like femmes. And so what?" he snapped.
"This is SO last century! Not to say maximalish!"

Contrary to Maximals' society, where over 80 of mechs would choose a femme for a partner (which, along with a two protectors family model, was an aftereffect of Autobots dealing with human culture for too long), Predacons' tastes in the matter were mostly shaped by medias. Generally, the design and a paint job of a bot on 'Prestar Pictures' posters were considered hot. For the past three decades, the trendy look was a black-and-white RN motorcycle. Femmes - that was ancient history.

"Well, some of us are were activated BEFORE people started drooling over some over-stuffed commando."
Another snigger from the blue bot. Terrorsaur jerked his head challengingly. "So what's your favorite design?"
"Pft! Like I'm going to let you babble it all over the planet, ruining my chances." "Like you have any chances to start with." "I believe I have." "Oh, please, not even that maximal cheetah is dumb enough to fall for a psycho like you."
Rust scowled. "Ewww. Don't be disgusting. That kid is barely off age, if that."
"Oh, gee, you're shocking me. Like you're that much older."
Rust burst out laughing. "Good point," he choked out after a while. "But he's still too young. Good merging takes a bit of maturity."
"So by all rights, you shouldn't get any merging at all. You're as immature as it gets."
"I know you are, but what of me?"
"Now, that was childish. And it just proves my point." "I'll show you a point, Dactyl," Rust said with a merry glint in his optics, pushing himself off the wall, and then he staggered, grabbing it for support with a surprised face. The flyer regarded him suspiciously. "Are you cratered?" He had no idea where Rust could have got hold of high grades, but that would certainly explain a lot.

"N-no, just some glitch in gyros. From the kick Widow gave me. Yeah. See ya." And he left, short of running.
----------------------------------------------------------

Blackarachnia hit the button on CR-tank and climbed inside, shaking in fury and humiliation. She'd rather die than let Rust anywhere close to her, but how did he dare reject her? She was pretty and hot, she knew she was, but now the small threads of doubt snuck into her spark, and that was something she wouldn't forgive. The wolf was going down.

------------------------------------------------------

Rust slid down to the floor in a convenient closet, and sat there for a while, pretending that he was perfectly fine and not in pain at all, thank you very much. His frame shuddered, and he whined quietly. He transformed to the wolf form. It helped, if only a little. Gritting his teeth, he made his way to his quarters, only to find it empty. Oh, it was littered with various garbage as usual, but there was a very noticeable lack of roommates. Rust grunted. Where was that wasp? He didn't want to be alone right now!

The camera on the main living deck swept over one very unhappy wolf, making his way through the corridor and sniffing under the doors hopefully.
Empty, empty, empty. Where was everybody, when he needed company?

&&&&

"Hi sarge."
Scorponok almost dropped a test-tube. He frowned at the wolf in lab's doorway. "What do you want?" "Nothing." "So, what are you doing here?" A small shrug. After a moment: "You mind if I stay here for a while?"
Scorponok blinked, taken aback. "Why?" Another small shrug. Rust looked around, as if he was looking for something, and shrugged again. Scorponok decided not to bother with him any longer. "Don't break anything," he warned, turning back to his work.

After some time a scrapping sound made him look back. No Rust in sight. Puzzled, Scorponok walked round the laboratory, glancing behind shelves. Still no Rust, but the scrapping did sound few more times. After few cycles, during which the scientist was getting more and more uneasy, he finally thought of bending down to peek under the computer console.

Rust lay squeezed in the narrow space, deep in recharge, paws twitching lightly in some dreamt pursuit. But what caught Scorponok's attention, was his unnaturally fast breathing. He run a few scans over the prone bot, and clicked his claws worriedly.
Malfunctioning circuit connections, overactive cooling system, internal temperature seriously exceeding optimum. Simply put, Rust was having a fever.
The scientist nodded to himself. He'd been expecting something like that. It was over four weeks since Megatron had cut Rust's off and recharge time down to mere three megas a solar, which was crazy, even if Rust obviously had some extra energy to burn. Thirteen megas of duty, with three megas off, and four for recharging - now that was sensible minimum. A bot can function with so little rest, sure enough, but not for a long period of time. Sooner or later, his frame is bound to protest.

Judging by the expanse of small malfunctions, it's been going on for days. And the youngster didn't say a word. Scorponok shook his head, not for the first time wondering, where in the galaxy had Megatron found the young soldier. Then he went to the computer and opened the file with crew roster. Its pattern was a nightmare for the next bot, but it made perfect sense if you knew where to look. It kept Rust and Waspinator close, but Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia apart. It ensured a constant control over their territory, and enough sleep for everybody. All these were the small details that ensured that everything ran smoothly, and they were entirely in his charge. Megatron didn't need - and didn't like - to be bothered with them.
------------------------------------------------------------

Rust blinked at his new schedule. "ODWOP?" he said.
"Off-duty while on patrol," Scorponok translated, not turning from his work. "You can't return to base, but you're technically having a break." He glanced over his shoulder. "You should use this time to recharge."
The youngster looked at him with confusion for a moment, but then he smiled and stood to attention - complete with clicking heels and saluting.

"Aye, sir!" he said with merry sparks in his optics.

------------------------------------------------------------

End of part nine

A/N: Just because I don't beg for reviews every second line, doesn't mean I don't wait for them! There's this nice blue button down there - go and CLICK it for Primus sake!
Oh, come on...
Pleeeease... /whines/