Machine Wars: Extreme Measures

Santon led the two unusual Maximals out of the registration room and into a private facility towards the back. SilverBolt glanced warily at his beloved before wrapping an arm around her. It hadn't occurred to the fuzor during the Beast Wars that there would be so many complications to deal with on Cybertron. When he had been brought online, all he was told to do was fly and attack, whether he had been a part of the Predacons or Maximals. Of course he valued being a Maximal warrior and it felt so right to him to be a hero, yet the war was over and there were other conflicts to deal with. Black Arachnia seemed just as bothered as he, albeit for different reasons.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" Bolt inquired gently.

Santon grunted as his treads brushed against the wall for the umpteenth time that solar cycle.

"There's someone else who'd like to hear that story you told me. Perhaps he can fix the machines you broke to work on your weird bodies."

BlackArachnia shrugged at the large Maximal. She wasn't too crazy about changing her form anyway so this delay mattered little to her. SilverBolt on the other hand, still wasn't quite sure he understood what was going to happen when they arrived to the next room, but whatever happened, he would forever be her champion. The dogbird sighed in relief. At least his feelings hadn't changed. Santon stopped the two bots before another set of doors identical to all the others they'd passed in the halls. The large but kindly Maximal punched in a series of codes until they were able to walk inside. SilverBolt squinted his optics, allowing them to adjust to the brightness, and stepped on the surprisingly rough floor. The room itself had little furniture and was mostly white with one large glass plane on the side. BlackArachnia let out a small grin when she faced the mirror. She loved her transmetal body.

SilverBolt immediately averted his gaze towards a bright red Maximal with friendly eyes, but a tense posture. His paint stood out from the white of the room and Bolt could truly see how rusted the transformer's armor was. Clearly this mech had seen his fare share of violence throughout the years as his person looked as if it hadn't been in a CR chamber for many stellar cycles.

"My name is Bump and I am a scientist hired by the council," The red Maximal walked up to them. "I was told that you had an unusual appearance to you, but I never imagined it was to this magnitude."

Santon stepped forward, "Bump, I have the results my scanners provided."

"Excellent!" The Maximal took the holo from his underling. "Of course, given the circumstances, I would like to try a physical examination on you both."

BlackArachnia's mouth twitched upwards at the thought. "Physical? You mean like back when Medics were actually needed during the Great War?"

"Due to the efficient and advanced technology of the CR chamber, Medics are practically non-existant these days, but since you practically destroyed our machines before, I believe that a physical examination will be less costly," Bump gestured towards the wall. "Don't worry, I am perfectly trained for this. It won't hurt a bit."

For over a mega cycle Bump tested out each gear, servo, and function the two Maximals had in their bodies. Any weaponry of course, had been removed upon their arrival. SilverBolt was glad to help his fellow Maximals find out what was wrong with their bodies, but the process was getting tedious. Bump found everything about them fascinating and asked several questions about their time on Prehistoric Earth. BlackAracnia would give her lover certain glares when Bolt would almost give away too much about their adventures. SilverBolt respected his beloved's wishes, but found it difficult not to say anything to the good doctor when he began examining his lady's body. Bump would warily glance at the fuzor, certain that each time he merely tapped one of BlackArachnia's gears with an instrument,he'd hear a growl. The scientist eventually stopped his examination and compared his findings to the results of Santon's scanners.

"Is everything in working order?" SilverBolt asked, relived that the doctor was nowhere near his love.

Bump nodded. "Your form SilverBolt, is relatively simple as the mismatched beast modes were just a result of a faulty scanner when you landed. A small tweak to the registration module should be able to scan you a new body without any trouble."

"That's a relief," The fuzor took a breath, "and what about BlackArachnia?"

Bump glanced over at Santon and sighed, "Her case is extremely interesting. Your fuzor body was the result of a malfunctioning stasis pod, but hers seems to be more complex. Perhaps brought on by a...quantum surge of some sort. BlackAracnia's body was clearly altered to be what it is now on purpose. Her frame possesses programming and engineering capabilities that is unknown in any existing Maximal technology. Furthermore, I noticed in these reports that you have an inactive Predacon Shell Program in your body. That is most troubling."

The two alien altered Maximals stiffened at the scientist's findings. BlackAracnia bit her lip realizing that whoever Bump was, he clearly wasn't an ordinary scientist if he came to that conclusion so quickly.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag now bowser," The spider laughed nervously. "You're already aware that SilverBolt was tricked into serving Megatron, but that wasn't what had happened to me. When I was still a protoform, a Predacon named Taratulas had planted the Shell Program. Later, it was removed when I joined up with SilverBolt and the rest of the Maximals."

The spider carefully chose her words, but she could tell that the two bots were suspicious of her. Bump and Santon stared at the femme with unsure glances.

SilverBolt noticed the tension and placed a hand on his beloved's shoulder. "But even before that, her inner Maximal goodness shone through as she valiantly aided us against the Predacons to defend the Ark!"

"Oh Primus." Santon rubbed his processor at the young bot's sickeningly sweet devotion to the spider.

"Wait," Bump shook his head, "are you sure you mean the Ark? As in the very ship Optimus Prime had crashed before taking down the Nemesis?"

Black Arachnia gently took Bolt's hand off of her shoulder and crossed her arms in annoyance.

A small sneer grew on her face. "Before we have to give another history lesson here, I'm sure the Big Ape is explaining all of this to the council. If you don't take our word for it, then you can ask him later."

Santon nodded. "Seems logical, but about this matter of you two being, uh, converted to the other side..."

"Never fear," The fuzor lowered his wings emphasizing his gentle behavior, "surely you do not think we are still Predacons. I was deceived by Megatron and BlackArachnia had been reprogrammed against her will. That does not mean we wish you any harm."

Bump and Santon simultaneously coughed at the two. "You'll understand if we are a bit shocked upon hearing this. It seems that the events you experienced on that planet were far more extensive that I'd imagined. None the less, I'd like to hear exactly how you acquired your forms, for you see, I am at a complete loss on this matter."

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." The spider lady shook her head.

BlackArachnia knew that there was nothing she could really do to stop the almost fearful gazes of the two scientists. At one time she would have relished their fear and she'd be lying if she didn't find their quivering a little funny, but this wasn't the time to deal with old prejudices. As the spider began to explain the story of her futile efforts with the transmetal 2 driver, no one noticed Bump stealthily walk towards his desk. While the scientist was very much interested in what these two marvels of technology had to say, there were certain rules that had to be followed when it came to Predacons. It didn't matter if a Maximal was tricked or forced into that violent lifestyle, an age old saying since the days of the Great War rang through the scientist's mind: once a Pred, always a Pred.

Bump pressed a button underneath his desk and started to take notes on BlackArachnia's story.

The alert he activated reached it's destination behind the large glass pane in the room where the four were in. A lone Maximal gazed on the sight, drinking in the story the spider lady was telling to to the group. K-9 was a mech of few words, but as loyal to the cause as they came. Once he heard the two admit to being Predacons his servos twitched, waiting for Bump to give a signal. K-9's optics narrowed when Bump pressed the button and raised his servo to activate his comlink.

"Night Glider? Two member's of the Axalon have just confessed to being former Predacons, and I'm looking at em'."


"And then we returned the spark to the original Megatron, and flew all da way home only ta be greeted by your slaggin' Security Force that don't know the difference between a true Maximal and a faulty maintenance bot. In conclusion, as a hero of time, I solemnly recommend to put these officers in a Maximal torture chamber. Of course, I also recommend we would need to begin construction of said torture chamber before placing the victims in it. I volunteer."

Rattrap threw his head back followed by a satisfied sigh, his chair tilted as a result. There was far too much information to fill the council in on and a normal report was getting tedious to write: Predacons do stupid things and the Maximals kicked their skid plates, enough said. Rattrap knew the importance of an accurate report but he also wanted to make sure credit was given where it was due. As a result, even the good deeds Dinobot and BlackArachnia did were written in full detail. The rat bot frowned and shook his head, staring at the later entries he reported. All he had done after Ravage's death was either babysit some monkey kids or fail at retrieving a device that could have helped his teammates gain a huge advantage on the Preds.

Those failures were probably why the Boss Monkey hadn't let him do as much fighting as he would have liked, but either way it was all Megatron's fault for even starting such a war.

"You didn't actually write those things in your report did you?" Cheetor eyed him cautiously.

"Hey give me some credit pussy cat! But, eh, to be honest just a little," Rattrap jumped off of his chair. "Besides I needed to cheer myself up! The report was getting a little too serious, if ya know what I mean. Don't wanna bore the high council after all."

"We saw the original leaders of the Autobots and Decepticons, narrowly prevented a time storm that could have changed history itself, and saw other stuff like Protoform X's death and the aliens! You think the council will be bored?"

"That ain't what I meant kid, I know what's important, not like I was built yesterday," Rattrap sneered, "No way I'd slack off in those departments! I meant when writing about the smaller missions like when our stupid beast modes were acting up or when we all went blind, and I still don't know how in the pit Rhinox got us out of that one!"

"You wrote those moments in the report?" Cheetor questioned nervously.

"When ya get to put in as many files as I did during my energon mining days, ya know that even if ya miss reporting about one measly crack in the wall it could cause the council to revoke your license-twice," the rat crossed his arms and began to walk out of the room, "not that I would know what that's like."

"Sure...hey wait! Where are you going?"

Rattrap glanced at him at the corner of his optic before walking out of the room. "Yanno, we've been workin' long enough, how bout' we go see off Megs into the slammer?"

"Ultra gear!" Cheetor coughed a little while sliding out of his chair. "I-I mean yeah, totally, at least we'll finally see Megajerk get his due. But how are we gonna find out where they're taking him?"

The rat bot pushed Cheetor out of the way and walked back to his computer typing away. "I think we can find a solution to that, a little of this and that and bingo! We have the shortest route from the spaceport ta the holding cells."

"Awesome! Let's go, it'll be great to see Cybertron again."

"Heh, tell me about it kid, another mega cycle on Earth and I'd start dreaming about burrowing like a field mouse," Rattrap muttered. "Come on, and at least act like you have a stealth mode setting cause we're gonna need it ta get out of this place."

Cheetor grinned while taking in his surroundings; the room was barren and relatively small with only a few computer consuls around. It was likely that there were several rooms along this corridor of the building, specifically for filing reports.

The two Maximals cautiously opened the doors and quietly crept to the edge of the hall. Rattrap had many odd assignments in his life ranging from regular desk jobs to freelance spying for paranoid Maximal politicians. Before accepting the Axalon mission, the rat bot thought he had seen everything space had to offer. Being an energon miner for many years allowed access to remote areas of space and testing out experimental weapons for the army made him knowledgeable in such areas, especially with bombs; how he loved bombs. All those years of testing, training, or sneaking around got him some respect from his fellow Maximal officers, at least enough to be on an experimental transwarp vessel. This building was a cake-walk, Rattrap knew that under normal circumstances security would have been tight in the reporting wing, but not today.

The rat bot knew people very well and understood how tempting it was to check out a juicy, new rumor. Word must have gotten out about Optimus's unusual size along with the news report about Megatron's capture must have all the Maximal Officers buzzing around in confusion. Chaos was a beautiful thing and a wonderful distraction when a bot just wanted to get some fresh air. Rattrap's optics squinted and surveyed the halls. There weren't any security cameras yet, but they'd show up sooner or later.

The rat bot crept ahead of his compatriot and signaled Cheetor to wait. Suddenly, two Maximal officers walked out of a room. They were no one Rattrap recognized, but one of the soldiers had a stern look on his face as if something got caught in his tail pipe and he was forced to live with the shame.

"You'll have to relay that one to the council K-9, even if they are Predacons they still deserve to explain themselves," the calmer officer spoke.

"These Predacons managed to walk inside our cargo bay to registration without any inspection or interrogation yet! This cannot be public, the Predacons must be locked up, until we get some answers."

The second officer sighed and began to walk with his companion in the other direction, "I understand your feelings, but we are Maximals, we cannot just apprehend them for being who they are, lets just hand in our reports and we'll deal with it later."

K-9 thinned his lips and forced a salute, following the officer closely. Rattrap tilted a brow upon hearing their conversation; Predacons weren't allowed to dock in Maximal space ports save for moments where the ship was nearly scrapped. Even if a Pred could dock in Maximal territory there were many stages they had to go through before leaving the port, sometimes it could take stellar cycles just to sort out all the paper work needed to let a Predacon leave. This was passed due to one of the smaller reasons the Great War began. Back in the day, Decepticons would take advantage exporting and importing goods or ships using this cover as surprise attacks against the Autobots. Maximal veterans of the war refused to let such things happen again and made it harder to for anyone to get in Cybertron, yet getting out was relatively easy.

"I didn't know any Preds arrived here in Maximal space ports," Cheetor whispered causing Rattrap to gasp at his friend's sudden lack of personal space.

"Kid, don't sneak up on me like that ever again and come on, they're gone. Besides, it ain't like we've never ran into any Predacons that stupid before."

A buzzing noise bounced along the walls and Rattrap noticed a small news bot near the end of the hall. "Slaggit! How I hate dose things!"

The bot stopped in front of the two Maximals, not saying anything for a while until it's small screen flickered, "The town of Praxis is nearing total reconstruction after to being demolished in the Great War. specialists say-"

Rattrap sighed and brought his servos to the machine and flicked the tiny device to the other side of the wall, causing it to crash.

"Rattrap!"

"I'll tell ya one thing about Cybertron kiddo, I didn't miss those annoyin' news bots. Always interruptin' ya at the worst times," the rat bot walked ahead of his friend. "Besides, if Praxis is nearly complete then maybe we've been away from Cybertron longer dan we thought."

Cheetor quickly followed his ship mate, "How long do you think?"

"Honestly, I'd rather not know. Right now, I'd like ta get me some action," the rat bot rubbed his hands with glee.

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean!" Cheetor held his arms out happily. "I can't wait to experience the turbo velocity of the Six Lasers roller costars, feeling the wind against my optics and cheering as we fall to the end!"

"Yeah, not the kind of action I was talkin' about."


A tall flyer transformer walked down the halls of the registration building with a sneer painted on her face. Sonar had problems with other Cybertronians on a regular basis and today had been no exception.

When a mech tells a femme that there's a grease stain on her leg, it means that he had been staring where he shouldn't have, and when a mech stares at a femme, it means he's interested in her. Suddenly, when a mech becomes interested in a femme then it could lead to sexual harassment and from sexual harassment could cost Sonar a big court case. Knowing this, it wasn't really overreacting when Sonar had screamed that she wasn't interested in him and slammed his processor into the wall. Couldn't they all see that she was the hypothetical potential victim here? It wasn't her fault that people stared at her, that was just how she was built.

Sonar wasn't what the average bot would call an attractive femme, not that she was absolutely hideous to look at, but her personality kept many mechs at bay.

They told her she overreacted and put words into their mouths when they hadn't even said anything. This wasn't true of course, as Sonar was just excessively cautious: if you smiled at her she'd question you thoroughly as to why you were acting so suspicious, or if you brushed her off she'd yell at you for not looking at her in the eye.

Coincidentally, when a bot actually did look at her in the eye, he had been accused of undermining her authority.

Sonar rubbed her processor after receiving another tough lecture from her superior officer about her attitude. The seeker fembot didn't dare argue with anyone of higher rank and it frustrated her greatly. No one understood her, no one saw what she saw in other people. Maxmals often claim that Predacons are their less noble counter parts, but not all Maximals were heroes.

Her day had begun horribly by being late to work due to arguing with her landlord about his twitching servos putting off signals of impure thoughts, and the first time she had been about to give an inspiring speech to her officers (something she'd worked on for many solar cycles) a mysterious ship docked in the city causing everyone to miss out on her hard work.

It came to no one's surprise that the flyer femme had gotten into another argument with an insensitive mech who pointed out a stain in her leg. She later went to thank him for preventing a potentially embarrassing incident, but he had the nerve to run away.

Sonar didn't believe she jumped to any absurd conclusions and whoever said otherwise must be a Predacon spy.

Today had been a long day but at least it was finally over. Sonar's last assignment of the solar cycle was to collect some reports from two Maximals that were part of the Axalon crew. As the fembot approached the door she smiled for the first time in a long while. This was it, she could go home and rest and not fear of being judged by every transformer on Cybertron. Sonar punched the code to go inside, but she froze before entering the room. No one was sitting at any of the computer consuls. Sonar checked her assignment holo and looked at the room number again; this was the correct place. The femme crushed the holo and growled out a cracked scream.

"You have got to be kidding me!"


"Ack what was that sound!" Cheetor covered his audio receptors. "It's like a bat just died or something!"

Rattrap raised a brow and looked back at the hall they had just walked through and shrugged.

"There ain't any bats on Cybertron so just ignore it, besides the exit is right ovah there!"

It had taken some time for the rat bot to disarm and rearm the security around the place, but there wasn't a trap that Rattrap couldn't get past. Cheetor, on the other hand, was not such a good partner for these types of things. It was no wonder Optimus hadn't sent the youngest Maximal out on any stealth missions as the kid would have definitely been caught by Megatron immediately. Rattrap frowned at Cheetor's cocky attitude sometimes, but his overconfident actions could have gotten themselves killed in battle. Cyber puberty was a pain in the skid plate. On the other hand, the young Maximal had proven himself gradually throughout the Beast Wars. His aim, which had missed almost all the time in the beginning of the war, was now top notch. If Cheetor hadn't become such a close friend to him, Rattrap would have taken bets on the yellow bot's skill. As annoying as the kid was there was a charm about him, something Optimus had seen in the Maximal far before Rattrap ever did.

So this time he allowed Cheetor to beat him to the door first, the kid deserved to bask in Cybertron's light.

"Rattrap, get out here pronto!"

"Eh don't keep your gears in a bind, I'm comin'. Man oh man I can't wait for the dames to take a good look at me!" the rat bot lugged himself outside before giving the place one last glance.

"I know but, look," Cheetor spoke breathily.

The rat couldn't help but widen his optics so he could foolishly capture the entire view; he recognized this city. It was beautiful and large, despite the Maximal renovations, but most importantly Rattrap knew where he was and what was nearby.

"Simfur city! Whoooho!" Cheetor cheered while running further into the crowd of stunned Cybertronians.

"Hey wait!" Rattrap grunted as a fellow bot bumped into him. "Spots!"

The rat bot reached towards his friend who had faced him upon calling his name. Suddenly, another Cybertronian rudely crashed into Rattrap while listening to very loud music.

"What? Hey watch where ya goin' you pile of stinkin' slag vomit! This is a special kind of paint job!"

"Whoa!" the rude Cybertronian remarked as Cheetor drew closer. "What in the pit are you two suppose to be? Where did you get those ugly forms?"

"Ugly?" Cheetor spoke quietly as Rattrap grabbed the other bot's collar.

"Yeah like those rims ya got are real special, bet they scratch easy. Besides, those puny things got nothin' on my gorgeous figure," Rattrap comically put his hands on his hip plates.

Before the other bot could comment Cheetor stepped between the two, "So uh, what was that song you were listening to? It was mega cool!"

"Oh this?" the bot tapped his processor. "It's just a new form of music that came out, TechnoOrganic is all the rage."

"Heh! Sounds like refried slag being blown through a tuba ta me," Rattrap raised his fist causing the rude transformer to leave the two alone.

Cheetor tried to apologize to the retreating Maximal until he noticed that he was surrounded. Optics of many different Cybertronians were pasted to the unusual newcomers, especially towards the yellow sabertooth. Rattrap, despite having a rat alternate mode, at least was made completely out of metal and had wheels on the back, similar to many car transformations. Cheetor, on the other hand, stood out from everyone else. It was his worst fear to be rejected in his transmetal 2 body, but he was able to ignore it once Optimus helped him control the alien energies within. This time the yellow Maximal couldn't rely on Optimus's help, so he puffed out his chest unwilling to show his fear to anyone.

"What're all of you looking at?" Cheetor growled.

The crowd of Cybertronians dissipated slightly, but the gazes and pointing remained. Rattrap immediately grabbed Cheetor's arm and dragged him away from the sight.

"Hey come on here! Nothin' ta see alright! Ya need your entertainment then go insert some pleasure chips in ya processors and be done with it!"

Rattrap scoffed at the people until he managed to drag his comrade away from the frenzy, "Some people don't appreciate good old fashioned high tech alien altered forms these days, yanno? Well kid, I'll be seein' ya."

Cheetor blinked twice and cried out to his friend, "Wait, what? Where are you going? What about Megatron's interrogation?"

"Brontobreath ain't going nowhere. Besides, I know what part of Simfur city we're in and nows the time to get me some succulent sultry sirens as good company. Maybe score some high grade drinks while I'm at it. After all, we saved the universe."

"I guess," the young Maximal muttered. "I thought you wanted to go to the roller coaster with me."

Rattrap slapped his forehead at the kid's petulant behavior; no matter how strong Cheetor was, he just couldn't get amusement parks off of the brain.

"Kid, I'm only gonna say this once-"

"Hey!" a loud voice interrupted from behind. "You're the two Maximals with the righteous beast modes, am I right?"

Cheetor looked at Rattrap with a blank expression, "What're you? Blind?"

"Ah totally, anyway, you two would be perfect candidates for the Order of the Oracle!"

The yellow Maximal scratched his head, "What's the Order of the Oracle?"

"Why would you even ask that, spots?" Rattrap groaned.

"The Oracle is the true creator of all of Cybertron! She or he had first planned this world to have a balance between the organic and the technological creating...something... in between! It's our job as his or hers' lackeys to bring back organic life to Cybertron."

"Oh my achin' processor," Rattrap rubbed the sides of his head and walked up to the ignorant bot menacingly. "First of all, that's just stupid, second, there ain't no organic life on Cybertron. Any premature protoform knows that Cybertron is a giant machine. Third, no one else besides us have beast modes and fourth!"

Cheetor off-lined his optics before Rattrap punched out the creepy robot. The yellow Maximal had forgotten how different it was on Cybertron and stupidly fed the cult member's rant. Rattrap sighed and walked out of the alley.

"The city life just doesn't have that peace and quiet, like the countryside. Well, see ya spots! I'll be in heaven for the next few mega cycles."

"Rattrap!" the yellow bot cried out.

"What is it this time-huh!" the rat bot gasped as a light from above shone on his transmetal body.

"Rattrap! Cheetor!" the airplane transformer spoke with a harsh tone in her voice. "This is intelligence officer Sonar and I demand that you two come back here and finish your reports!"

Cheetor ran towards his friend, confused at the presence of the soldier. Her light was very distracting as she tactically altered the brightness of it so their optics wouldn't adjust properly. The Maximals placed their arms overhead to get a better look at the officer, but just as they were about to respond another a jet bot zoomed past Sonar. The intruding jet slightly knocked into one of the traffic droids causing it malfunction and knock into the femme flyer. Sonar swerved a little and growled in disbelief, believing that the two Maximals had attacked her with the driod.

"That was a big mistake firing on a superior, prepare to be brought back to the filing wing by force!"

Cheetor panicked, "Wait! What is she talking about? We didn't-"

"Enough!" she yelled as her lasers warmed up.

"Ah slaggit! I just wanted a normal non-combat filled day in Cybertron, is that so much to ask?" Rattrap quickly transformed into his vehicle mode. "C'mon spots I don't think she's kiddin' around!"

Sonar let loose several shots which nearly hit the younger Maximal dead on. Rattrap revved his engines once Cheetor transformed into beast mode and took off. The sabertooth's jets were able to help him keep up with Rattrap's wheels, but Sonar had the advantage of flight. Ignoring the laws for a moment the flyer descended to a level that was not considered safe under Cybertronian rule. These Maximals had the gall to first run out on their duties, fire on her, and start an epic chase around the city, so they had to pay. Clearly this Axalon crew had been overrun by Predacons who must be disguising themselves as Maximals; it was the only explanation for this behavior. Sonar stopped shooting when the two approached a busy highway.

Cheetor hated the paved roads of Cybertron the instant his jets took off. His claws were straining against the road due to not being able to get a solid grip and unlike Rattrap, he couldn't maneuver himself as well to avoid the car bots. Instead, Cheetor was forced to jump over or run on-top of the vehicles, which sparked many hateful comments from the ticked off Maximals.

Flames erupted from Rattrap's pipes as he skillfully dodged the various car robots on the road. It wasn't the first chase the rat-like Maximal had been a part of and to be honest, he was starting to enjoy the ride. Wind brushed the bots' outer shell as if it was gently asking permission to flow through their circuits. This chase was both invigorating and pointless, something needed to be done.

"Heheh! You're makin' this too easy toots! I've outraced steam-powered ships faster than you!"

Sonar laughed loudly, "You can't escape the law you-you lawbreaker! This'll teach you to mess with Maximal security!"

"But we didn't do anything!" Cheetor cried out desperately.

The flyer shot two consecutive shots near the edge of the lifted highway. Many Maximals skidded to a halt at the sound of her fire power, but Rattrap had been too late. Once the rat bot's vehicle form fell off of the edge, he instantly transformed and used his tail as a hook to hold himself up. Rattrap gasped when he glanced down at the nearest road, which wasn't nearly as close as he would have liked it to be.

The moment Cheetor saw his friend in trouble Sonar began to close in on him. The yellow Maximal bravely leapt off the bridge, "Hang on Rattrap!"

"For once spots, that ain't such a bad idea!"

As Cheetor dove towards his friend, Rattrap grabbed his friend's tail and pulled himself onto the yellow bot's shoulders. Sonar followed in pursuit of the two, but the transmetal 2 thrusters Cheetor had were proving to maneuver pretty well in the air. Without any problems, the two bots landed on the nearest rooftop while Cheetor immediately leapt to the next. Sonar swerved around the buildings, gaining on her quarries. The flyer's jets weren't used to the sudden changes of altitude and needed some time to adjust. Rattrap glanced behind him to check on the crazy fembot's progress.

"She's fallin' behind but that isn't gonna be enough!"

"You're not going to shoot her are you?" Cheetor panicked as he avoided another flying advertisement.

"Well clearly talkin' ta her won't help. Besides, I don't have any weapons, remember? They were confiscated when we arrived but, there may be anotha way to lose her," the rat smirked.

Rattrap, who was still in robot mode on Cheetor's back, took out his tail and waited to get a clear shot. Sonar rose above the rooftops, tired of the low altitude, and warmed her lasers for another strike. The rat bot stretched his arm and flung the wire that was attached to the end of his tail at the flyer.

"Oh, yeah!" Rattrap's lure managed to hook into one of Sonar's propellors. "Hit the turbo button spots, we've got her!"

The force of the transmetal 2's jets took off at an incredible speed. Sonar cried out as her plane mode was being pulled towards the two Maximals, shocked that a sabertooth had so much power in him. Lose wires and flying advertisements managed to hit her as Rattrap held onto his tail for dear life. The rat bot's servos were straining at the pressure of maintaining a good grip on Sonar, while Cheetor just concentrated on running as fast as he could.

"I don't mean to be such a sour-bot about your plan ratface, but this is only going to help her gain on us!"

"Not if I do this!" Rattrap grinned while simultaneously letting go of her tail. "Take that you emasculatin' femme bot!"

The flyer, after being pulled by Cheetor's incredible speed, wobbled and swerved violently in the air. Sonar's engines were desperately trying to steady her form, but the sudden change in velocity wasn't working well in her favor. The femme screamed as she was thrown out of the two Maximals' sight and Rattrap cheered in response. The instant Cheetor was about to ask whether the flyer was alright his claws lost their grip on the metallic rooftops. A sabertooth was meant to run on dirt, wood, or even stone, which would have been easier to get a hold on rather than some-kind of stainless steel. Cheetor and Rattrap yelled as they fell towards the paved roads of Cybertron. At the last second Rattrap gripped the edge of the building while holding up Cheetor, who was starting to feel heavier every click that passed by.

"Oh come on!" whined Rattrap. "Why do these things always happen ta me?"

His servos were slipping as he desperately tried to keep hold of the building's edge. Cheetor was capable of long jumps and flying small distances, but Cybertron had cluttered airways that could crush him if his speed wasn't quite right. Since the yellow bot's transmetal 2 body wasn't as accommodating for flight as his previous form, the two Maximals were in quite a bind. Rattrap felt his internal systems flare up at the sheer idiocy of the situation.

"I know I've nevah been the most optimistic bot of the group, kid, but if a slaggin' Decepticon couldn't kill me, then we ain't gonna die from this!"

A sudden breeze of air hit the two bots, rocking them slightly against the building. Rattrap internally groaned upon hearing the monotone drum of a flyer's jets. "You cannot escape now possible Predacon spies!"

"Hey Sonar!" Cheetor yelled. "What is your damage? We're not spies!"

Rattrap scoffed, "Yeah, but I wouldn't consider this next move to be a very Maximal one neither!"

The rat bot swung himself and his friend onto the jet who attempted to swerve them off of her cockpit. Using Sonar as bridge of sorts, the two bots leapt towards the ground. Rattrap transformed into his vehicle mode and took off yet again with Cheetor following.

"I thought we'd lost her!" the yellow Maximal whined.

Rattrap glanced behind him and revved his engines again, "That femme is as crazy as Inferno! And get a move on spots! This is a less populated area of the city, if she fires at us again we're toast!"

"Man, if only there were rocks we could throw on her or start an avalanche, or something to stop her!"

Rattrap made another turn while grimacing, "Quit livin' in the past Cheetor, this ain't Earth, and get a move on!"

Sonar made a sharp turn, nearly scathing the building at the corner. This was not how she wanted to finish her day. Granted that she had permission to fire on insubordinate Maximals, but this was getting ridiculous. Whoever these bots thought they were, justice would prevail and she'd be the one to do it. First, she'd get a medal and then that could lead to a promotion and the promotion could be a stepping stone to get a nice cozy seat on the council bench. The plan was fool proof. Before Sonar was about to charge up another blast to fire on the retreating Maximals, a blockade of both arial and ground forces stopped her from doing so. Rattrap and Cheetor had a difficult time reducing power their jets, but managed to do so before crashing into any fellow bots. The entire road was sealed off by Maximal Command Security Force officers while a scrapped triplechanger carrier was lying on it's side, along with several guards in stasis littering the sides.

Cheetor immediately transformed and approached one of the guards. The officer blocked the young Maximal's view of the scene and eyed him warily.

"We cannot allow you to pass sir, this area is sealed off to all civilians."

"Beetle," Cheetor recognized the officer instantly, "what is going on here?"

"Oh former cadet Cheetor! Is that really you? What the heck happened to your body? It-It's so furry," the officer's optics widened.

Rattrap transformed and walked up behind his pal. The rat bot squinted his eyes as he observed the crowd, noticing a Cybertronian with a pitch black paint job all over his body. Under normal circumstances Rattrap wouldn't have cared about the Cybertronian, but for some reason he stood out from all the other officers in the investigation area. The obsidian transformer's optics locked with his for a moment causing Rattrap to focus on Cheetor again.

"Former cadet Cheetor? I didn't know ya used ta be part of the Maxcops."

Cheetor rubbed the back of his head nervously, "It was before I was assigned to the Axalon, but, uh, you didn't answer my question Beetle; what happened here?"

"Well," the officer spoke hesitantly, "I guess I can tell you. A prison carrier was attacked today, whoever off-lined the triplechanger also took out nearly all the guards as well."

"Seems pretty organized for a Pred attack," Rattrap crossed his arms.

The yellow Maximal shifted his optics nervously to the dead transformers and Beetle's face. There was only one thing that put Cheetor's mind to rest when he arrived on Cybertron and that was knowing that Megatron had been taken care of. Cheetor wasn't a sadistic bot, but he would have preferred it if Big Bot had just scrapped Megajerk when he had the chance. Twitching his servos, the younger Maximal dreaded to ask the obvious question.

"This can't be," Cheetor stuttered, "was it the-"

"Yes, this was the transport carrying the Predacon renegade Megatron."

The three Maximals simultaneously faced the origins of the voice who interjected his opinion. A tall Cybertronian stood before them, casting a shadow over Rattrap's head. His body was pitch black from head to toe, with very few bits of silver, especially around his face. The monochromatic tone made it difficult to tell the bot's emotions, which was an effective trait for a dangerous Cybertronian. Rattrap wasn't quite sure what the obisidian transformer's alternate mode was due to his dark coloring. Still, if he had to guess, it appeared he was some type of flyer due to the long jagged wings that caped around his back.

Cheetor could barely hear three flyers descend behind him despite one of them being Sonar who was complaining to her fellow officers about her day. There was something very strange about this mech, but the rat bot couldn't see what it was.

Rattrap squinted his optics, manually adjusting them to the bot's paint job; he found the problem.

"You're a Pred?"

The dark being nodded, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Onyx Primal of the Tripredicus Council Inquiry Committee."

"Primal?" Cheetor growled. "That's only a title given to Maximal ship commanders!"

Onyx shifted his gears and crossed his arms in a sort of lazy pose that seemed unsuitable for him. Rattrap lifted a brow realizing that this probably wasn't the first time this guy had to explain himself.

"The Tripredicus Council is dedicated to working with and ensuring peace between Maximals and Predacons," he recited. "We give you Predacon technology in exchange for greater freedom in regards to better quality and acceptance in Maximal society."

Cheetor frowned a the bot's calm mannerisms and stepped forward with invisible steam emitting from his audio receptors. "But this is a Maximal investigation!"

"With a Predacon prisoner," Onyx pointed out smoothly.

Sonar managed to push aside the two officers who were blocking her from attacking Rattrap and Cheetor for their insolence. Despite her grievance with the Maximals, she had to do her job first.

The femme pushed aside Rattrap with a sneer, "I am intelligence officer Sonar and I think it's in your best interest Primal, that you should know that these Maximals are part of the crew who brought Megatron into custody."

Onyx's optics went up a notch but lowered as not to draw attention to himself. The Predacon uncrossed his arms and faced the two bots with newfound interest. "Is that so? Then I might have a few questions for you regarding this case."

Cheetor growled and clenched his servos, "Save it Pred, Optimus and I did just fine bringing him here, it was the forces that were in charge of transporting him that screwed up. We don't need any Predacon help!"

"I'm sorry, but the Committee for State Affairs thinks that you do," Onyx's gaze remained calm while Cheetor fumed.

Rattrap patted the yellow Maximal's back, attempting to calm the young bot's nerves a little, "C'mon Cheetor, yanno you're overreactin' when I gotta be level headed one, so don't let it bother ya kid. Besides, we know there are some good Preds out there."

"Thank you," Onyx nodded his head towards the rat, "I'm glad one of you realizes this investigation should be left to the professionals."

Rattrap blinked at the obsidian mech's response and glanced behind him. Never in his life had he been a fan of Preds, but he'd be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy the company of Dinobot or even BlackArachnia on some occasions. Rattrap held back a bit of his anger towards the Primal's nerve.

"Ok, he might not be one of them."

"Ahem!" Sonar coughed to interrupt the tense moment. "I know this may seem petty now, but I really really need you guys to finish your reports so I can finally go home!"

Cheetor looked back at his comrade with a calmer expression.

"What are you talking about? We left them on the computer before they left, our reports are finished."

Sonar's facial gears stopped until her processor could wrap around the information she was given, "You have GOT to be kidding me!"


Megatron's brow cast a shadow over his optics, making them look offline when they had been turned on as bright as they could glow. Cybertronians didn't rely on light as much as other species needed to, especially organics. Optics were able to adjust themselves to any environment whether the room be too light or dark, albeit they needed about a click to change settings. Megatron twitched his mouth to a deeper frown as Cryotek continued to lead the way. Runway lights very dimly lit the blackened halls, but of course Megatron could still see where he needed to go. Old floor panels creaked with each step the giant mechanical being took, shaking the bolts that had come loose over time. Wherever the two Predacons were it must have been a desolate area of Cybertron, perhaps in the lower levels of the planet since the halls could accommodate his size nicely. The great upgrade of Cybertron was revolutionary; it allowed their people to consume less energon and be at a height which was easier to interact with other species across the galaxy.

Of course, even three-hundred years of acclaimed peace was not enough to time to renovate an entire planet. This was especially true when the world was a giant machine city with many levels and no organic base. Cryotek chose well for a hideout as this was a very old construct, most likely years away from renovation. A long, loud screeching sound nearly made both Predacons stop incase of falling through a faulty floor panel. Megatron's feet were putting stress on the rusted metal of this building, he mentally reminded himself to be more cautious of his steps while gazing at the endless void of black beneath him. If Megatron tried hard enough he could hear quick whispers brush against his audio receptors briefly. This wasn't surprising, naturally Cryotek wanted to take every precaution regarding his treacherous pupil; it was a predictable move on his part, but the decrepit mood this place gave off was an effective trait. Oils and dried energon that glowed dimly was smeared along the walls as if someone from some unknown time had been trying to mark the number of solar cycles spent in this place, along with other messages which made no sense, that adorned the sides. The metal coating of the dragon-transformer's servos, he had clenched, cracked due to the tension.

No one would talk. Megatron did not dare speak in such an unstable environment.

The door both Predacons had seen miles away was in view. At first the lights flickered as the sliding doors opened, electrical beads splashed onto Megatron's face. He felt their warmth briefly, but wasn't bothered by it. The doors eventually opened all the way, causing a scratching noise to pound through the halls as the openings struggled to work properly. Megatron hadn't quite realized how set back Cryotek truly was because of his betrayal; normally everything in a base, no matter how old, would have been in perfect working order such as the lights and doors, but it appeared he didn't have the funds for those luxuries this time. Cryotek had connections of course, but no one wanted bad publicity. Since Megatron allowed the Security Force to believe Cryotek alone had stolen the Golden Disk, former partners must have cut their contracts with him. As a result, funding for any private work must have dropped, forcing his former teacher to work twice as hard to regain his allies' trust; it was just what the old mech deserved.

As the two walked through the broken doors, Megatron actually needed to tilt his head to view an enormous object within. Considering this place was built during the Great War, the device inside was huge, reaching from ceiling to floor with two chambers in between a relatively small computer.

"This is an impressive machine," Megatron walked towards a chamber, purposely stepping over his companion.

Cryotek raised an arm in defense, "It should be, I had to steal it from the Tripredicus Council's primary research lab. This is an advanced device that allows both form and data to be replicated between two transformers. Of course, the original intention of this machine was so a victorious warrior could gain the information and expertise of a dead foe, hence it has only been tested on sparkless shells. Either way Megatron, I don't think you are in a position to refuse."

Megatron's claws shook against the glass tube, tempted to scratch Cryotek's precious invention.

"Very well."

"Good," the older mech walked towards the computer, "this will rid you of your rather, how shall I say, glaring appearance so that you won't stick out like a frontal spark casing, as well as split the data between us, to ensure your loyalty."

Megatron cautiously tapped the glass casing, "If you have a machine like that, what's keeping you from taking all the data in my processor?"

"If it's one thing I've learned from your betrayal Megatron, it is to not underestimate you. I'm sure with your strength of will, you'll resist the device's scanning properties enough to probably not get yourself scrapped and leave me with almost nothing to work with. If you do, you'll be completely useless to me and I'll be forced to dispose of the remains."

Cryotek would only dispose of him unless he absolutely needed to, then again doing so could help his trial over the Golden Disk theft. Megatron pursed his lips for a moment while looking back at his reflection in the glass. He had sacrificed everything to get to Earth, that was obvious since he was currently considering Cryotek's plan. The device's function didn't worry him, the dragon-transformer would be able to survive the transfer, but he wasn't quite sure at what cost. Megatron had learned much from his old teacher's betrayal during his heist. Cryotek was cunning but theatrical, a trait Megatron would not openly admit to inheriting from him. Whatever the old mech planned after this transfer would certainly be both interesting and something he would regret agreeing to. Megatron took his hand off of the case.

"Very well, I will enter the chamber."

Cryotek grinned and gave a short chuckle, "Of course you will."

Megatron stepped aside as the two chambers let loose waves of steam, opening without any struggle. The power source for the machine was hidden or just in a lower level, Megatron deduced. His optics metaphorically crushed themselves to Cryotek's head as his steps echoed towards one of the chambers. Screeches, cracking, and scratching were all Megatron could hear. This floor was unstable except for the area around the giant device. Megatron squinted his optics, it was clear now that this had been a one way trip. There was little chance of him being able to simply walk out of the room without the floor collapsing beneath him in a matter of clicks. Of course he could easily fly, but even if Megatron could get out of the building, which was surrounded by Cryotek's guards, there were still many levels he'd have to pass through to get back to Cybertron's surface. By then it would be a race to see if Cryotek could get him back before the Maximal Security Force or Imperial Peace Officers could. He'd known before meeting with Cryotek that the old mech would trap him, but he hadn't realized to what extent.

The floor bent beneath his feet despite not moving an inch since Cryotek entered the chamber. Megatron glanced at the open door before him as a platform on the far side of the room snapped off and fell into the pit below. Another panel disappeared beneath his toes and the giant transformer rushed inside the unoccupied pod. The door shut quietly this time, for some reason, causing a bright light to turn on and envelop him. His optics took a click to adjust to the brightness. All the floor panels, save for the ones closest to the colossal device, fell apart in small groups. The distracting noise of the clanging metal stifled the alert to begin the transfer process. Before his optics were able to accept the brilliant light, Megatron clutched his processor and screamed louder than the crushing noise of the broken metal panels.


A/N:

I believe in subtlety to emphasize my disdain of Beast Machines and if you feel otherwise then you must be a predacon spy. Look up the town of Praxis on the TFwikia and remember to watch "Theft of the Golden Disk" on youtube.

The video IS cannon to beast wars and Cryotek is NOT an original character.

Also, Asher Tye, Night Glider is not in any way Night Scream, but I do have a surprise in store for him. You can actually find Bump, Night Glider, K-9, and Sonar's character descriptions in the Beast Wars Source Book. After I played Portal for the first time I wrote Megatron's seciton...I don't think anyone noticed. Special thanks to RulerofFire for beta reading this piece! PLEASE REVIEW!