Machine Wars: Darker than Black
It had been several mega cycles since Santon and the science officer had left the room. BlackArachnia leaned against a recharge berth for what she assumed was used to re-attach limbs. She sighed in boredom and stared at the nearest mechanism in the repair bay. The Maximal technology on Cybertron was surprisingly less advanced than what the Darksyde had on board. The she-spider curled up her upper lip when remembering what being under Megatron's command was like and she silently thanked Primus he was in jail. BlackArachnia liked being a 'bad girl' or more accurately the spider enjoyed doing things on her own and relished the reactions at her rebellious nature. Unlike Megatron, Optimus had tolerated her behavior. The big ape was surprisingly trusting with the spider when she had arrived and with the combined efforts of SilverBolt's gushy speeches of teamwork had helped her understand the rest of the Axalon crew.
At first the she-spider didn't think much of the Maximals on Earth, but when fighting on their side, BlackArachnia began to respect her new squad. She even went as far as utilizing her technical skills to help them gain an edge on Megatron, her intelligence being a trait which no one knew whether it was hers or some sick gift given by Tarantulas. BlackArachnia rolled her neck joints back and began to tinker with the machine for the fourth time since their wait. SilverBolt had been surprisingly patient with the other Maximals, but BlackArachnia wasn't so sure about them. The she-spider had read many data tracks about Cybertron and how it was taken over by the Maximal Imperium after the signing of the Pax Cybertronia, thus ending the war between the two factions. Despite knowing this, she couldn't help but feel agitated at the thought of so many Maximals around her. Granted she was technically a Maximal, but she had only been so for a short amount of time.
SilverBolt jolted his head towards the door, his ears perking up when another Maximal entered the room. BlackArachnia squinted her optics at the new arrival, not recognizing him at all while her lover greeted him warmly.
"Greetings, is there something we can help you with?"
The stern Maximal didn't nod and scanned both beings in the room. Black Arachnia raised a brow when his optics locked on hers.
"I'm Sergeant K-9 of the Maximal Command Security Force," he crossed his arms, "and you two will be in custody until your hearing."
The she-spider's body immediately tensed, "Hearing? Under what charges? For joining the Predacons against our will?"
K-9's mouth twitched as he leaned against one leg, "Oh, I'm sorry I forgot to mention something. This hearing is not about you, it is about Optimus Primal."
"Optimus?" SilverBolt asked worriedly. "What could he have possibly done?"
BlackArachnia put her servos on her sides and faced K-9. She had a feeling that her presence would have created complications, but not so much that the big ape had to suffer. The spider's expression was frozen in a disappointed frown.
"Haven't you figured it out Bowser? There must be some-kind of rule or protocol for taking in Predacons on your crew and our fearless leader didn't abide by it," BlackArachnia didn't flinch.
"Smart and beautiful," the corners of K-9's lips crept upward as he gestured to SilverBolt. "You sure do know how to pick em'."
Black Arachia placed her hand against her lover's chest, her optics filled with annoyance when he growled at the Sergeant. SilverBolt calmed down a little and huffed when he caught his beloved's gaze. The she-spider put her arm down when she was sure Bolt wasn't going to attack the guy. BlackArachnia was hesitant to follow K-9 to wherever he planned to take the two, but in this world full of Maximals she knew there was little choice.
"Follow me to the prison holdings and you will be summoned when your captain arrives," K-9 gestured to the door.
Optimus reared back his shoulders with a small sigh. His limbs felt so relaxed in the surprisingly spacey room, but he could feel his spark sending jolts through his systems out or worry. The once fearless leader of the Axalon stood on a lone platform with the optics of all twenty-five members of the council marveling at his size. Optimus wasn't sure where the entire council met to convene on serious matters such as these, but he was grateful they had chosen a room that could accommodate his size. This gesture of kindness did not make the large Maximal feel better about his situation. Optimus shifted his optics frantically without moving his head. A lot had happened in the past solar cycle, more than he could normally take. Still, this fear he felt in front of the council did not compare to when he had seen Optimus Prime's broken processor. He could almost see the smoke emitting from the great Autobot leader's head as Night Glider took his place on a platform beside Optimus. Primal's crew stood beside him, unsure of what was going to happen. After all, there really wasn't anything to fear. Whatever the council had heard of Night Glider, surely Optimus Primal could set them straight. Optimus's crew was strong and even when he had been absent during some points in the Beast Wars, they managed to adapt well. That was then, of course, since now the Primal was not devising battle strategies or shooting his problems away. The large mech finally understood why the great Optimus Prime preferred to spend his days in space rather than governing this world.
"This, this is just a mistake right Big Green? I mean, it's gotta be. We didn't do anything wrong," Cheetor looked at Rhinox with scared optics.
"Hm," the transmetal rat sneered, "whatever Night Glider told the council about SilverBolt and BlackArachnia must've been pretty convincing to get all the members to arrive in person. It doesn't look good for us."
The yellow maximal frowned, "But, miracles do happen right?"
"They do, but we may have used all our miracles up during the Beast Wars," Rhinox looked away from the bot and faced the council with stiff joints. "It'll take pure luck for us to get through this unscathed."
Suddenly the doors behind the Maximals opened and Primal's jaw dropped a little. His spark ached as he saw SilverBolt and BlackArachnia enter with stasis cuffs on their limbs. Optimus held back his outrage at his crew being treated this way, but his face lost it's malice when he remembered what an old friend had told him. Before Dinobot's death, when the crew had attempted to contact a probe from Cybertron, the Predacon knew that any association with Megatron (no matter how brief) would have resulted in his arrest. Optimus did not question his noble comrade and he was deeply saddened he didn't have a good reason to convince him otherwise. Predacons knew their place on Cybertron, but things were this way for the best. All Predacons want to rule, but Optimus gritted his teeth at Night Glider knowing for sure that his two allies should not be treated this way.
As painful as it was, just as if it were Dinobot in custody, Optimus couldn't do anything about it.
The intelligence officer accompanied the crew, who stood by Optimus, clearly nervous about what was to come. Optimus felt pity for the flyer, if he hadn't dragged her into the battle she could have been spared this trial. The giant transformer turned on his coolant fans to calm his systems before overheating. This place, this planet and it's regulations were starting to get to him. Primal quickly surveyed the room before Night Glider announced that the session was going to begin, taking note that the mysterious Predacon Primal was not present. Night Glider walked up to a pedestal in front of the main council members. The front row of Maximals were of the most respected and important of the rest. While nothing could be accomplished without the full consensus of every member, it was those who had fought in the original Autobot war that held the most power. They were the 'Right Honorable' of them all, war heroes. Night Glider hesitantly met the optics of Prowl who motioned for the Chief to continue.
Rodimus Prime, stood up from his seat beside the other three members, "You have the floor Security Chief. I'm sure these Maximals before us would love to understand why they have been brought here this day."
Night Glider's optics narrowed as a smile crept along his features. Normally any bot would be nervous around the great political leader that is Rodimus Prime. Those who knew him before the the Great Upgrade would vouch that his skills as a military leader were uninspiring, but the Prime had a sharp wit to make up for it. Night Glider was not afraid of any council member. The Chief puffed his chest in confidence and his spark grew warm at the thought of ruining Optimus's career. He relished the idea.
"Of course sirs," Night Glider typed in a code on the pedestal so that all could hear his words and raised his arms a bit to put on a theatrical flare to his speech. "Imagine you were in Optimus Primal's position, my dear council. Optimus was stranded in another place and time, of course there is no need to tell you councilors this as you all have processed the classified reports on this case."
The Cheif paused and walked a path around the members' seats, forcing the locked gazes from the Axalon crew to follow his pace.
"I am simply trying to get us all in the mindset Optimus had when he allowed former Predacons to aid in, perhaps, the most important task any of us could have to protect our way of life and history itself," Night Glider gestured towards the Primal. "Optimus, you yourself had been brought back from oblivion through the slimmest of chances by your heroic first officer Rhinox. After being reawakened in a new body, you found a Predacon who had been sent to kill you in your ship's CR chamber."
Night Glider paused his speech with a fake look of interest as Optimus Primal took one step towards the Chief.
"He wasn't a Predacon," the giant transformer glared at him. "SilverBolt had awaked from his stasis pod before either Maximal or Predacon forces touched it. No Predacon Shell Program had been installed in him therefore he is a Maximal to the core, literally."
Night Glider kept his back to the council members and nodded towards Primal who could feel the thick amount of slime dripping from the Security Chief's words.
"Of course, of course. What I am merely calling into question is your ability of befriending someone sent to kill you by Megatron himself. This was done very quickly I might add and I merely wish to set the stage, if you will."
The Security Chief faced away from Optimus, keeping his political smile painted on. "Let's fast forward a few months. Megatron has nearly succeeded in doing the unthinkable, and through a narrow victory, the saurian was driven out of the Ark. On that ship there was a Predacon with the access codes to the Ark, still a Predacon mind you, had joined Optimus's side."
"What is the meaning of this?" SilverBolt cried out in rage, unable to move much due to the stasis cuffs. "Are you accusing BlackArachnia of being some kind of spy? Megatron's plan was insane, we can all agree on that, but if it were not for Black Arachnia's efforts none of us would be standing here today!"
The she-spider glanced desperately at her stupid boyfriend. His words made her spark soften, but he was such a fool. BlackArachnia bit her lip in worry at Silver Bolt's actions; couldn't he see that he was only going to get dragged down with her? The femme's head tilted at the thought of causing SilverBolt to become imprisoned. Her fans released coolant and her spark no longer felt soft, but rather strained at her beloved's efforts. This was what guilt felt like, it must have been. Oh yes, Black Arachnia had enjoyed being 'bad', so to speak, but that was when she was alone. Now her actions affected others because she had become attached to them. The she-spider panicked when she understood that this wasn't going to be just about SilverBolt, but the entire crew would pay as well. Black Arachnia felt horrible, her joints ached to move but the cuffs wouldn't allow her that small freedom.
For some reason, the she-spider could not bring herself to interrupt Silver Bolt's heartfelt speech.
"She was a Maximal forced by the wicked programming of Tarantulas's invention to become a Predaon, yet she still went against those odds and found the innate Maximal goodness in her heart. With this strength she played a great role in saving our entire future. To question her loyalty to the Maximal cause-"
Night Glider's voice harshly interrupted the BirdDog who fought back a growl at the Chief.
"BlackArachnia's efforts, in the end, turned out to be genuine," he began, "thank the Matrix. However, all previous cases of Maximal protoforms who have been imbued with the Predacon Shell Program, especially under an advanced model used by Tarantulas, have been some of the most vicious and ruthless Predacons our Security Force have come in contact with. Furthermore, sparks were extinguished upon any attempt to remove the program."
BlackArachnia shifted slightly, remembering the darkness before she had gained her transmetal form. She wasn't sure what had happened during that unspecified amount of time, but it had certainly been a miracle that she was alive, as the Chief mentioned. The she-spider hid her fear from SilverBolt, which worked out well since the BirdDog didn't care to talk about his beloved's death. Rhinox glanced at the two chained Maximal's and then glared at Night Glider.
It was time he spoke up, "I found the reason for that if you read my version of the report. Specific termination signals are implanted in the Shell Program in the event of removing it. Most likely the only reason BlackArachnia's spark did not terminate immediately was because she willingly wanted the program removed. This is not just speculation either. I have solid data from our computers to back this up."
The councils' murmurs ran through Rhinox's audio receptors. It had only been a few stellar cycles that he was on Earth, but the chattering Maximals reminded him of why he enjoyed the peace that nature provided. Rhinox knew that their time on that organic planet was anything but relaxing, but he had still managed to find enough time to sniff the flowers. The rhino rubbed his forehead of light condensation caused by his internal systems. He had to keep calm, if only for Optimus's sake. Rhinox felt that it wasn't right that he had to defend his comrades just because of something that was beyond their control. They had saved all of slaggin' Cybertron for Pit's sake and now they had to suffer for it? Rhionx liked to think of himself as a logical mech, but everything that had happened this past Mega Cycle was pure chaos. Still the rhino had to keep his stamina up. This was a battle he had to fight for his friends and for a moment he wished it was against Megatron.
"A Maximal resisting the Shell Program?" one councilor interjected over the sea of voices which echoed throughout the room.
"Such a thing has never been heard of, yet the report gives solid evidence that it's true," another followed.
Rodimus attempted to calm his fellow councilors down until Night Glider slammed his fist on the consul. The impact against the metal device boomed through the room, earning silence among the rest.
Night Glider glared at Rhinox and gritted his teeth, "But what about the other part in your report? Her spark was terminated like every other attempt, and yet she stands here before us in a body frame using unknown technology of clearly alien design. Such advanced, unknown tech may very well be faking a Maximal signature, even to our sensors."
"Hey!" Cheetor spoke up angrily as his fellow crew-mates looked at him with wide optics.
"There is no way you can be sure of that! It's clear you're just trying to manipulate the council against us through your words!"
The room was silent at the young bot's words and Cheetor looked at the council with newfound fear. Rhinox looked away from the sabertooth as Rattrap shook his head.
"I hate to admit it Cheetor, but he's right. This is how court room arguments are," Optimus said to the cat bot gently.
Cheetor hunched his shoulders with a small amount of shame. Again, he had only proven to everyone that he was a kid and didn't understand political matters such as these. Nothing made sense anymore when the crew arrived on Cybertron. Cheetor had always looked at the idea of returning home to the feeling of discovering a new plant or life-form on an uncharted world. Cybertron was his safe haven, the prize for saving Cybertron. Ironically, all of the things they had brought back from Earth were starting to blow up in their faces one by one. Cheetor was outraged that this sleazy Maximal scoundrel was succeeding in making the councilors believe that his friends' were criminals and had to speak out, but in this case he was wrong.
Cheetor hated the feeling of those treating him as a protoform. The Beast Wars had matured him in the art of combat, but not so much in the affairs of his home-world.
"He still sounds slimy to me," the yellow bot muttered under his breadth.
Optimus looked away from his companion and studied Night Glider's furious visage. The large bot knew that the Chief was often in a bad mood, but his anger towards Rhinox was different. Optimus frowned at the glint in Night Glider's optics; there was something wrong with the mech's behavior.
"I believe we've established that there is no way to confirm that the transformer known as BlackArachnia is a Maximal or Predacon," Night Glider spoke up with a calmer tone. "Of course BlackArachnia is not being charged here, Optimus is. I merely needed to illustrate a point where he entrusted her a significant period of time with the access codes to the Ark and gave her free reign throughout the Maximal base. Keep in mind, this is before the Shell was removed."
The councilors began to speak amongst themselves while Night Glider continued, raising his voice above the noise, "Put this through your processors: a Predacon given free access in a Maximal base, entrusted with the key to changing history. Ask yourselves councilors, do you see this as appropriate judgement of a captain of one of the most advanced ships in the Maximal forces?"
Again the upset members of the council were whispering to each other and gesturing to the Axalon crew. Night Glider stopped speaking and placed his servos behind his back, fighting a smirk. Optimus's gang looked away from the bots, not wanting to see their pointed fingers or wary glances. BlackArachnia clenched her servos while biting her lip nervously. She couldn't face SilverBolt like this and made sure his optics wouldn't reach hers. One look in her noble knight's loving gaze was just too much to handle right now. The spider wished she could shoot a triple dose of cyber venom at the Security Chief, but that probably wouldn't help her case. Still, the rude Maximal had made a few interesting points. Optimus had been surprisingly trusting of her while guarding the Ark. Even though she had accused him and his crew of treating her poorly, BlackArachnia never tried to see it from his perspective. In Predacon society, it seems so natural to look after yourself. This is especially easy when Predacons rarely show each other affection or kindness, so trust is a near impossible thing to have in that group. On Prehistoric Earth, it had taken a great deal of time to adjust to the Maximal's way of life. Eventually she began making inventions for them and following Optimus's orders without question. BlackArachnia knew that no other Maximal, other than SilverBolt, would have treated her as one of the team. Night Glider raised a few good points about Optimus's judgment, but he also made her realize just how generous the Big Ape was. He didn't have to accept her in his group, but he did so anyway. BlackArachnia wished she could understand why Optimus would do such a thing. For some reason, saying that his kindness was just a 'Maximal thing to do' wasn't quite right. Trust goes deeper than programming and the she-spider hadn't spent enough time around good bots to know exactly how that worked.
Rattrap interrupted her thoughts with a fearful statement, "Oh boy, we're all gonna go ta jail."
Optimus leaned his head towards the rat, his expression was neither worrisome nor gentle, "No, Rattrap, I was in command and am responsible for what happened. If anyone's going to be imprisoned, it'll be me."
The rat bot stared at Optimus with surprise. A lot of good Maximals were lost in the Beast Wars and during those times the Big Ape was only able to mourn for his friends after a battle. Other than those moments, Rattrap had never seen the bot so defeated. Optimus's greatest fear was to fail his friends and he had done just that. When the she-spider died, or when he thought she had, he regretted not trusting her more than he had. BlackArachnia may disobey orders from time to time, but she had proven herself loyal to the crew many a time. The large Maximal felt his spark ache in regret for not being able to help his crew, but before Night Glider could influence the council more he had to speak.
"Night Glider," Optimus's voice went over the dying conversations of the councilors, "I indeed did give BlackArachnia free reign on a Maximal base with the access codes to the Ark in her processor. But the points you so clearly seem to be glossing over are, one, BlackArachnia had just as much to lose as any of us. She knew Megatron better than anyone on my squad. Ask yourselves this councilors, why not leave the access codes with a member of my team with the most intimate knowledge of the enemy's attack pattern and strategies?"
The large bot raised his hand before Night Glider could interrupt and continued, "BlackArachnia, another thing that was left out in the report, was the one who ejected Megatron from the Ark during his first attack and saved it from self-destructing in another. BlackArachnia is a Maximal who had to overcome more than any of us has ever had to truly be and become her true self. She was able to resist what few could and without her help I am certain we would not be here discussing trivial matters. She is a hero, a Maximal hero. The fact that the Ark is untouched should prove that."
"Hooyeah! He got ya there Glider!" Rattrap cheered followed by the rest of the Maximals near Optimus.
The large transformer was touched by the support of his team. Their cheering calmed his nerves a bit, but his internal fans were spinning like crazy. Optimus hoped that his words would reach the council, no matter how unlikely it was. Night Glider had the advantage of speaking with the members before this trial. The colossal bot knew that the Chief had an advantage over him and Optimus could do little to change their minds. Rattrap suddenly stopped cheering when Night Glider glared in his way.
"Alright, alright I'll shut up," the rat bot waved carelessly.
The Security Chief cleared his vocalizer and clapped his servos once, "Such a rousing defense from our conquering hero. Your words, Optimus, would truly be moving if not for their ignorance."
Night Glider held up a small disk he ejected from his subspace. He spoke with deep confidence, "I have here a file containing videos of many Maximals who had been turned into Preds via Shell Program. Each had given their lives to defend other Predacons, thus making it likely, at least it should have been likely, that BlackArachnia may have one day given the access codes to Megatron even if it would mean her own destruction."
BlackArachnia bared her teeth at the officer, frustrated that her limbs were unable to move due to the stasis cuffs. Night Glider walked around the room holding up the disk in his servo with a grin. The Chief was slowly breaking down Optimus's authority and soon much more than that. It was about time the ship Commander could be seen for the insignificant leader he was. Night Glider relished every moment he saw the bot's optics fight back his true emotions, but the Chief could see that he was winning.
Night Glider spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, "Now, I'm not an unreasonable Maximal, but I, in the same situation, would have kept that Predacon in stasis lock or under lock and key at all times. I would've found a way to extract those access codes from her core consciousness and put them inside a true Maximal. Councilors, I leave this to you: Did Optimus show judgement worthy of a captain in his moment of truth?"
Optimus lowered his head when his speech ended. There was nothing he could say, in retrospect his decision making may not have been the best but it had worked out well. Perhaps a true Maximal would not have trusted a Predacon, at least not the extent he had. Was he a traitor? No, he betrayed no one but old wounds heal slowly. Optimus had been surprised by his encounter with Dinobot and BlackArachnia, as both of them had shown him not to judge Cons the way he had been taught to. This couldn't be right, he knew it wasn't, but Predacons were the villains and Optimus had not only accepted, but trusted them implicitly. His spark sank when Night Glider grinned, though he refused to give him the satisfaction of showing his pain to the officer.
One of the three bots who sat beside Rodiums stood, "Thank you Maximals, your arguments are gonna be taken into consideration. We will now access our computers and each vote on the fate of Optimus Primal."
Prowl nodded to the bot, "Ironhide here will let you know when we have reached a consensus."
As each of the members put up their holographic nets, the Axalon crew whispered amongst each other. Rhinox gestured towards Optimus with sympathetic optics towards his friend, "Night Glider sure has it out for you, but I know some of the councilors and I'm fairly sure most are not as vicious as him."
"Thank you Rhinox," the large bot's voice had lost it's confident tone, "but this was something I know I had to face eventually."
BlackArachnia managed to move her legs slightly and spoke up a little above her comrades. The she-spider looked to the floor before gathering the courage to stare directly into Optimus's optics. BlackArachnia could not believe the things the Big Ape had said and even though she didn't completely understand why he would risk his career for her, the spider had to at least try to describe how grateful she was.
"You know I am not really good at this, but, thank you Optimus. I had no idea."
The large bot's voice was crestfallen, though he managed a smile at her words. Optimus knew this wasn't easy for her, "I meant every word."
"Thank you Optimus," SilverBolt's ears drooped with defeat in his voice, "I cannot believe that Night Glider is Maximal."
Rattrap snorted, "Heh, what'd ya think that every Maximal is as sweet as little ol' me?"
Silver Bolt looked at him with sad optics, "No, I just thought that they'd have more faith in their comrades."
Optimus wanted to tell the fuzor that Night Glider does not represent that type of Maximal behavior Cybertron is known for, but he couldn't blame him. SilverBolt had never seen Cybertron until they had arrived early this solar cycle. Optimus knew that telling the council about his Predacon recruits was going to be difficult to defend, but he hadn't counted on Night Glider's interference. As a part of the military, Optimus had to take responsibility for whatever was thrown at him even if he didn't agree with their judgement. There were a many loses during the Beast Wars, but the fact that he couldn't save his people on his home planet was one of the most crushing defeats he had experienced. Without his help on the case and a member of his crew in jail, Megatron may as well have won.
Ironhide stood up from his seat again and stopped the crew from speaking any more, "By a vote of fourteen to eleven, this council finds Optimus Primal's judgement concerning the transformer of unknown faction: unsatisfactory."
Night Glider's optics gleamed with amusement as he basked in Primal's sunken expression.
The councilor continued, "He will be placed on probation and relived of military duty and his command for an unspecified period of time. Furthermore, in the case of BlackArachnia, she will be placed into custody under Sergeant K-9 and former head of Scientific Development, Bump, until her faction and the technology in her body frame can be deciphered. This meeting of the council is adjourned."
The engines were silent inside the craft. Suspending in space, close to Maximal satellites was a vessel that stood out from the others. Two rings of hovering stations surrounded the planet, though a smaller circuit rested behind the others. No Maximal liked the idea of giving Predacons even an inkling of power, but being such peace-loving robots they had to give peace a chance. The Maximal satellites had been placed in front of the Predacons' tech so that they may receive any transmissions before their darker counter parts could. Three looming figures stood behind a window inside the Predacon station with pleased expressions as they oversaw the repair of a destroyed Maximal satellite.
"That Renegade Megatron has been confirmed by our spies. He's on Cybertron and working with Cryotek again," one Predacon said harshly while walking away from the view.
A dim red light was hung above the figures painting their bodies with the hue. The engines were still silent inside the vessel, an enhancement that the three were very proud of taking from their Maximal watchdogs. Wires which zig zagged along the flow glowed with a brighter red than the lamp above the figures. The lines assured the Tripredacus Council members that no alarms had been triggered or messages could get through to their private channel. Maximals were hesitant to give any power to the Predacons, but if the Preds wanted to work peacefully then it was difficult to deny them that chance.
"Hm," another council member followed his fellow General towards the center of the room, "interesting that his grand plan failed, although we suspected as much."
The one known as Cicadacon stayed by the window with his arms crossed and his voice gruff, "Sadly through the leaked Maximal reports we received, it has been confirmed that Covert Agent Ravage and Secret Police Lieutenant Tarantulas were both destroyed on Earth."
"Ravage betrayed us!" another Tripredacus General seethed as he placed both servos on a consul. "There was too much fight in him, we shouldn't have sent someone who had served under the original Megatron. Still, Tarantulas's back up plan disappointingly failed. It would have been much easier for our master if he had succeeded."
Ram Horn ceased from speaking as he felt the urge to pull the trigger of his gun. In Decepticon and Predacon society the only respectable rank was that of military origin. All three members of the Tripredacus Council had been former Generals and were picked by the Maximals to represent their faction. As one of the members ran his servos along the panels of the dimly lit room, it created an echoed screech that almost damaged the mechs' audio receptors. Cicadacon finally stepped away from the window and joined the other two in the center of the room.
"If anything this has taught us it is that the past is that past," he looked at both Predacons sparingly.
Another member crossed his arms with a sneer, "Shall we then close the book on attempted time travel?"
The council members paused, noticing just how quiet the systems were on the Overseer Station. Using time travel to destroy both Autobot and Decepticon leaders from history would certainly weaken the Cybertronian Empire for good. Optimus Prime and Megatron were the symbols of both factions and without them the distinction between the two sides would have blurred. Cicadacon gripped his processor with one hand.
The councilor's vocalizer came out deeper than he intended, "If Megatron's coordinates, rather the ones computed by Lieutenant Tarantulas, were to go public it would cause chaos and discord among the Predacon Community. Our attempts to gain greater trust with the Maximals for access to the remains of Project X would be in serious jeopardy."
"Agreed," nodded the third member, "we'll have to find Cryotek and Megatron will not be far from him and dispose of both. No doubt that if Cryotek hasn't destroyed his former partner, then Megatron has already shared his knowledge with him."
The floor lights didn't flicked and only added to the councilors' dank appearance.
Ram Horm gritted his teeth angrily, "We will contact our spies about what they know, but there are other matters to discuss Generals. Cicadacon, how goes it with the Origin Faction?"
Cicadacon straighten the joints in his back, slightly unprepared at the change of subject. His servos were clenched when remembering the report he received from his men about those Predacon leaders. They were a troublesome bunch in Predacon Society, rivaling the council.
"Razorclaw, being leader of the Origin Faction, has a strong influence on Cybertron," the General looked down at his consul and chose his next words carefully. "As one of the few remaining Decepticon converts who still holds sway in the Predacon Community, his lassiez-faire attitude towards the Predacon Alliance is despicable. So much power and yet he does nothing."
Cicadacon paused for a moment before facing the other two councilors, his voice grew dark, "Our agents within his faction confirm no major plans other than to simply let the Predacon Alliance mire itself in endless chaos and civil war. It is because of him that the Maximal forces are so strong compared to ours!"
Decepticons were troublesome members in Predacon society. They were often respected by others and tried to revive the ideals taught to them by the original Megatron. It is because of their preaching that the Predacon Alliance was the most divided group out of nearly any other species out there. During the times of the Great War, everyone had followed one leader. That leader fought for the glory of the Decepticons and the chance to make the entire world of Cybertron a military focused planet. When their leader was gone, things began to get complicated. Few were keen on the Tripredacus's claims of working with Maximals peacefully while others were unsure of how well the original Megatron's ideals could be revived. The Predacon Alliance was a mess to deal with and the Decepticons only added to the confusion.
Ram Horn gripped his chin thoughtfully, "Clearly, the time of the original Predacons should end soon."
"The Chief of our science division has come up with the beginning of a solution to our origin problem," the third General grimaced in the middle of his words, "and I hope the old bat knows what he is doing this time. He wastes too much energy and resources on self-indulgent torture, but there is no denying he is the best."
The other two Predacons did not move while listening to their comrade's words, though their optics gave away how disgusted they were with the idea of negotiating with the scientist. Cicadacon gestured his servos outward, breaking the tension.
"Onyx Primal has performed excellently, even if he is a recruit in terms of his relations with the Maximals. Have him assist the Maximal Imperium in preventing Megatron's data from going public. If that information gets out, it will only empower the Origin Faction."
Ram Horn's vocalizer clenched as he responded, "Now I detest speaking to him, but contact Chief Science Officer Nightscream."
There were no objects or specks of grease in the halls. Everything was bleached white, seemingly untouched by any being. Not even bits of dust could be found on the floors. The place was eerily quiet and the bright walls and floor were nearly blinding to even a transformer's optics. Further down the sterilized path was a room equally as clean. The tables were just as neat, even underneath them no being would be able to find a molecule of grime. On the walls hung onyx colored equipment. The dark objects contrasted painfully against the titanium white room. A deep voice rang through the room. There was only one transformer in the room who spoke nonsense but his vocalizer had no imperfections. His speech was not cracked, not too weak, just even and strong. The mech did not have a radio or com-link on but he continued talking; those who couldn't hear him would be saddened at the opportunity to listen to such an elegant tone. He gathered by one table placing another black energon covered tool in some sterilizing liquid. Monitors were placed behind him, the images though impossible to tell from this position were also shown in a harsh contrast of black and white. If one stared at the screens for too long one would feel uncomfortable at the chaotic images before them, even if it wasn't clear what the mech was supposed to be watching.
"Hmm, good good. We may not need the Shell Program after all."
The transformer himself had a color scheme of dark and light hues, whit and black, though he stood out from the black equipment hung on his walls. Mechanic arms descended from the ceiling so clean that the lights which enhanced the bright room's gleam, reflected off of the metallic limbs. The device prodded and poked at whatever the transformer was tinkering with. Looking closely at the Cybertronian, one would not think he had an alternate mode. His body was so completely robotic in a way that would make any other transformer feel uneasy around the mech. His fingers were as thick as straw with tiny joints that would need to be seen with a magnifying glass. The spindly limbs delicately held his tools in a grip that one would not think possible for such thin appendages. A long tentacle hung out from his forehead and rested over his unusual optics. There was no way to tell what this thing was used for, but it looked eerily unnatural.
"So very close," he quickly grabbed another piece of equipment after sterilizing the other. "Must act quickly...or not."
His optics were one of the strangest things to behold; instead of the eyes just being balls of light behind protective glass his optics jutted out of his face with pupils similar to organic design. He had a terrible posture as his back was in a permanent hunch with an unusual weapon strapped on him. Despite his decrepit appearance the transformer's voice was strong and smooth. The being's arms nearly reached his legs, so he had to keep them close to his body as he experimented. A pulsating orb beat loudly throughout the room, it's colors contrasting against the white and black metal. On the table close to the scientist lay the torso and head of a transformer; the optics were online. His body was dark and spark chamber open. The mechanical arms ejected thin needles which were used to stretch the spark far more than it should have been. Using his thin fingers, the scientist checks his notes while inserting a syringe into the pulsating orb. His notes consisted of various hypothesis of the spark and Predacon Shell Program. The transformer grinned a little after pulling away his hand from the spark. He had hoped to transform a non-protoform Maximal without the use of the Shell, but as the scientist looked back at the writhing spark he could tell that this specimen failed.
"This is my favorite part," the transformer put the syringe in a sterilizing liquid.
Sticking out one of his spider-leg fingers he inserted it deep inside the stretched out spark. He violently twisted his hand in the floating energy orb and licked his lips a little when the spark screamed before it extinguished. The optics of the now dead transformer off-lined. Before the scientist could look back at his monitors a hissing noise filled the room. The transformer checked a nearby consul and accepted the transmission. Three figures appeared on one of the screens, each member of the Tripredacus Council stood before him in the call.
"Chief Science Officer Nightscream, we regret to inform you that your apprentice, Lieutenant Tarantulas, is no longer with us."
Nightscream went over to the other side of his room and began to wash his servos without so much as flinching.
"Overly ambitious, but insignificant," he looked over his shoulder at the council. "What is the real reason you have contacted me?"
The Generals paused at the scientist's calm nature, Ram Horn spoke first, "We need you to focus on Project Cybergeist. The time to gain ground with the rest of the Predacon Alliance is near."
Nightscream scoffed at the thought of focusing on that assignment; it was so very boring. The project involved so little physical violence that the scientist felt uncomfortable working on it. Nightscream ceased washing his servos and walked up to the consul as he reminded himself why his work needed to be complete. If he were to finish the construct then it would afford new opportunities to cause others more pain. This was a fact he often had to remember when working on the Tripredacus's toy. Nightscream could almost feel the potential torture against his lips, the taste of pain was decadent.
The scientist replied with his perfect vocalizer in tact, "I detected an energy signature of unknown origin that recently activated itself aboard the newly returned Maximal ship. Although, it is not directly relevant, it could be of great use to us."
"Heh, the irony in this is that it is most likely an artifact from the aliens who disposed of your pupil," General Ram Horn chuckled.
Nightscream slowly waved his thin finger in front of the monitor carelessly, "I care not about revenge, the greatest way to honor his memory would be to use what killed him to create even more pain than he must have felt upon his death."
"Do not presume to order us, Science Officer." Cicadacon warned in a harsh tone. "However, we will look into this if time affords."
Nightscream politely nodded to the councilors and cut the channel. The mech rubbed his thin fingers together, managing to not get the thing appendages caught in each other.
"Good good, now where were we?"
Nightscream looked at the bleached wall, analyzing his next move. The black equipment hung around the room seemed to only be many Maximals nailed to the sides. Their spark chambers were open, optics online, and vocalizers cut so that they couldn't speak or fight. Small black machines which crawled over the helpless Cybertronians, tampering with their internal settings and sparks. Nightscream looked at all of them, deciding on which one to use. The council was getting antsy about his slow progress, picking a healthy beating spark would help move things along.
The scientist stood before one pathetic soul and gazed intensely at his structure, "Who will be the next great Predacon Ravager?"
A long, clawed hand reached towards the pulsating orb as everything went black for the now dead Maximal.
A/N:
My reasons for Nightscream's personality is explained below:
Being an artist, or just a plain lover of art, I understand that everyone has his or hers' own style. Whether one finds that person's technique ugly or beautiful is up to interpretation. My brother, on the other hand, is not quite like that. Both of us grew up watching Beast Wars and unfortunately Beast Machines. Despite my feelings, since I hate the art style of Beast Machines, I still accept it as that artist's particular style. Interestingly enough, my brother wouldn't stop inquiring as to why someone would purposely make such ugly characters in Beast Machines and he thought Nightscream was creepy. This lead to the idea about Nightscream being more suited to look like a villain rather than a hero.
Seriously watch 'The Weakest Component', which has a lot of back lighting to it, and stare at Nightscream's form; it's so creepy (well creepier)! Also, it makes the show more bearable to think of him a villain! REVIEW!...please?
