A CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION - Part Two of Two
"Optimus?"
The Maximal turned and saw Tigatron come up beside him. "There you are. I was beginning to think that you'd left the party."
"Tempting, but no," the tiger sighed making the larger bot laugh. He had been sitting quietly on the roof of the Axelon relishing the calmness of the night when he noticed that he was no longer alone. Below, in the control room, the anniversary celebration was just getting into high gear. Rhinox had managed to rewire some old karaoke machine and Cheetor was trying to keep up with the song "Thriller". Before, both Rattrap and Airazor had managed to mangle the song "Ebony and Ivory". It wasn't a sight that one saw every day. Or wanted to.
Optimus took his leave once the little cheetah began moonwalking across the control table. Wherever Rattrap had managed to squirrel away his cheap booze, it seemed to be a never-ending supply and right now the others were feeling no pain. Optimus figured at least one of them should be sober, just in case... "See anything interesting?"
"A meteor or two," Tigatron said, "but I assume you're speaking of something that's a greater threat?"
"Something like that."
"I haven't seen any Predacons either. They're quiet tonight."
"...Yes," the large silverback gorilla muttered, his face drawn in thought. "No sign of Dinobot either?"
"No."
"He's not answering my hails. I don't know if he's ignoring me or if he's just out of range."
Tigatron looked up at him with concern. "Why would he ignore you?"
After a moment's hesitation, Optimus told his friend of the discussion he'd had with Dinobot earlier this afternoon. Talking with Tigatron came very easily for him, in some ways it was even easier than conversing with Rhinox. The tiger was a new addition to their ranks, assimilated shortly after their crash here, but he had an old soul and spoke with a wisdom that went far beyond his years.
When the explanation was finished, Tigatron mulled the information over for a long time, considering it, before finally speaking out loud; "If Cybertron manages to rescue us, you can be assured that Dinobot will not be here on his own."
"Well, there IS the alien threat-"
"That is not what I mean."
Optimus considered him in the dark, his eyes glowing slightly in the poor light. "You would stay behind, too?" he asked quietly.
His friend passed him one silent nod. "And possibly Airazor, too. We were born here, for lack of a better word. Our sparks are tied to this world and we along with it. I feel my aversion to technology every time I'm surrounded by four walls. I belong to the wilds of this planet. Not to Cybertron. No doubt Dinobot feels the same, albeit for other reasons. He will not be alone here."
Optimus smiled sadly even as he felt his interior circuits tighten with remorse. "I know that there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind-"
"No," came the expected response.
"-So I can only support your decision, with reservations. It just wouldn't be the same without you, though. I want you to know that."
Tigatron passed him a wise smile. "Let us wait until that moment comes to express our regrets. We might be here for awhile yet."
A thought just occurred to Optimus. "...Long enough to reach a one-year milestone?"
From below came a sudden loud Bang! followed by some laughter. "Awright! Who wants t' see a lightshow?" Rattrap bawled. That was followed by the rapid clatter of firecrackers.
"Possibly, although I don't believe that the ship will survive that long," the tiger remarked in a wry tone.
More illegal contraband... the frustrated Maximal commander stamped over to the hatch opening and leaned directly over the hole as he shouted down at his crew: "For the sake of Cybertron, use your head! Do that outside of the blasted ship before you-"
There was another piercing Bang! and a flash of white light and Optimus' head and shoulders where lost in a cloud of blue-tinged smoke. When he staggered back, his entire face was black with gunpowder. He blinked numbly twice, his eyes brilliant white against the backdrop, and he suddenly bared his teeth in a fearsome grimace. "RATTRAP!"
"...uh oh," came Rattrap's mumbled comment.
Standing placidly off to the side, Tigatron watched their leader drop through the hatch. There was silence for a few seconds then wild laughter.
"Knock it off! It's NOT funny!" came the response. "You could have taken my eye out-"
"Oh, fer bootin' up cold! Would you quit you're bellyaching, already?" Rattrap shot back. "Ya wouldn't know what fun wuz if it bit ya on the -!"
Rhinox snapped, "Shut up-" this was interrupted by an enormous belch, "-Rattap!" followed by; "He doesn't mean that, Optimus. He's just-"
"I do, too! I-" the rodent's words became unintelligible bursts of sound as someone muzzled him.
Tigatron sighed and returned his silent, contemplative gaze back to the night sky while the bickering below went on.
And on.
Core consciousness switched on with brutal, crushing awareness. All sensors came suddenly online at once, relaying conflicting reports that almost crashed Dinobot's mainframe. Receptors were out of sync transforming the input into a maelstrom of paradoxical commands, sickening colors, and deafening sounds. Every pivot point to his frame throbbed in screeching complaint to the sudden jolt of the platform rising from the depths of the Predacon regeneration chamber. It was too soon-! He drew in a breath for protest and it turned into an agonized bellow.
An arm closed over his mouth, stifling the cries and he was roughly pulled down from the platform and dragged into a shallow alcove behind the regeneration chamber. He thrashed briefly before everything went dark and he went with it willingly; anything to be spared the agony of an interrupted repair.
"Wake up." Something slapped across his face, and it wasn't a gentle tap either. It created a deafening echo in his head as the blow reverberated through his helmet. It happened again, and then a third time before he was capable of bringing up one heavy arm to ward off the blows. His sensors were starting to prioritize themselves and began relaying information in a manner he could interpret. A status report finally swam up to the surface: He was repaired but barely, and at only about half power. Reserves were nil. All of his weapons were off line.
Dinobot sat up with a groan of protest and rubbed his right shoulder, pleased to see his arm once more attached to its socket. When he had let go of the metal grate, Inferno had tackled Megatron before they could both fall into the lava. With one leg crushed, the soldier hadn't been able to defend himself against his irate former commander for long. He'd been little more than scrap by the time Megatron was through with him and he remembered more of the damage he received than he'd like to admit. He peered up at the smooth wall of the CR chamber beside him and then over to the silent figure crouched near him. "Why did you pull me out?"
"I want to talk to you," Blackarachnia said in a low voice.
"About what?"
The black widow studied him, the tip of one sleek claw rubbing slowly along her cheek. "I've read your dossier. Impressive military service, many commendations. You were considered a hero among your rank. A true Predacon."
Dinobot said nothing.
"Yet, practically the minute you crashed here you went running to the Maximals. I want to know why."
"I owe you no explanation."
A claw flashed out and encircled his neck. "You owe me your life!" she corrected him. "Megatron plans on coming back when your repair cycle is finished and tear you to pieces again. He intends to do that over and over until you submit. Or die. One way or the other, he'll be getting what he wants."
"Which is?"
She looked at him as if he were as stupid as Scorpinox. "To upset the balance of power, idiot! We'll outnumber the Maximals and finish them once and for all."
Dinobot was trying to figure out her motives and having a rough time of it; this wasn't like dealing with a male Predacon. He decided to go along with her request; after all, he really didn't have any other options in his present condition. He swatted her arm aside and explained: "We had no reason to be stranded on this miserable planet. Had Megatron listened to me, we could have blown the Maximals out of orbit and returned home, now look at us." He swept an arm to the surroundings around them but the gesture suggested a thing that went beyond the room or even the ship. It assessed their current hopeless situation perfectly; stranded on an alien world, lost in the time stream with no possible way to return to their own space. "I originally went to the Maximals with the intention of overthrowing their leader and taking command of them. I could not defeat Megatron on my own, I required reinforcements."
"Optimus Primal is still in command," she noted, stating the obvious.
Glowering at her he admitted reluctantly, "Maximals do not follow authority as Predacons do. Megatron relies on fear and intimidation to ensure loyalty among his subordinates. Among the Maximals, Optimus inspires trust. The others would never have followed me even if I had bested him in fair combat."
Blackarachnia read between the lines. "So, now you're stuck with them."
"That is a fair assessment of the situation," Dinobot said, adding a sigh he was unable to submerge. At her puzzled look, he felt compelled to add; "I do not enjoy being considered a traitor by my peers, nor do I enjoy allying myself with the enemy. But what Megatron is doing on this world is wrong. He has become obsessed with victory and battle. He has become insane and must be stopped at all costs."
While she thought over what he had said, he got slowly to his feet. It was a painful reminder of the previous severity of the damage he'd received. Pistons and struts accepted his weight grudgingly and he extended an arm to the wall and leaned heavily on it for support, waiting to see whether his legs would support or abandon him. Not for the first time he wondered if he was going to get out of this situation with his hide intact.
Blackarachnia watched his struggles with a marked lack of compassion. "I've tried to undermine Megatron on a few occasions."
"Indeed," came the sarcastic response.
Ignoring the contempt, she continued, "It's like you said, the others are terrified of him. Only Tarantulas seems to have his own agenda. The rest... aren't too bright. I'm pretty much on my own."
Dinobot added a weary nod in silent agreement. Her description had assessed his own situation perfectly until he had gone over to the Maximal side out of desperation. It was not a thing he was proud of, he would never be comfortable with the choice but it had been the only solution at the time.
She said, "It took a lot of courage to do what you did, knowing Megatron would take it personally."
"I do not fear Megatron," he snarled, feeling that familiar rage swamp him. It dulled the ache in his joints, anyway.
"No, I saw for myself that you don't," she muttered, considering him for a moment. She moved in closer and ran the tip one claw suggestively across his broad chest. He didn't respond to the gesture and her respect for him moved up a notch. "It's a shame you left before I had the chance to know you. We would have made a good team. Possibly even taken over the Predacons ourselves..."
A glimmer of regret and greed passed by on his face before he submerged the old ambitions with difficulty. "I have made my choice, Blackarachnia," was all he could say.
As if she hadn't heard him, she continued in a low voice, "It's a lonely struggle. Waiting in the shadows for that one chance to strike and knowing the penalty if that plan fails. I hate Megatron... but I'm scared of him, too."
While she appeared to have let her guards down, he asked in a voice very different than his usual rough growl, "Why did you save me?"
She stared up at him, at a rare loss for words. She had studied his personal files thoroughly and knew that he would not be manipulated as she was accustomed to doing to the others. Dinobot was a decorated military soldier, a master of weapons and hand-to-hand combat, and a skilled strategist. The only one bot on this planet with more years of experience was Megatron himself. It was the chief reason why they were such rivals.
After much deliberation, she decided that telling the truth was her best approach but it was not something that came easily to her. Dropping the manipulative facade that had become her second nature was more difficult then she would ever have thought. "We're two sides of the same coin, you and me. Our methods are different but we both want the same thing: To overthrow Megatron. I saved you because the Maximals wouldn't last long without you. And what's the sense in ruling a world if there's no one else to conquer?"
"You are a true Predacon," Dinobot said in a neutral tone. He didn't mean it as a compliment but it wasn't meant as an insult either. He was just stating clear fact.
Whatever her origins, it was clear what she had become and she took his words as an unintentional praise, pressing herself closer to him. "So are you," she said, running the tip of her claw across his hip and lingering at the bone armor protuberance at his crotch. "Whatever your motivations for staying with the Maximals, I can imagine what you're planning."
"Is that a fact," he countered.
She nodded. "You're biding your time and gaining their trust before you take control. I've seen you in battle among them. They work easily with you now. Perhaps an accident involving Optimus Primal will happen soon?"
"Perhaps," Dinobot said vaguely, refusing to be baited with her suspicions. He managed to maintain his stolid indifference even has her touch become more brazen. That degree of self-control impressed her and she flashed him a grin that contained absolutely no humor. It looked hungry. "You may not be an arachnid but I consider you my equal. It is an... attractive realization."
"What do you want?" he asked her, impatience had crept into his voice at last.
"I saved your life," she reminded him, running her claw back and forth across his stomach in a deliberate gesture. "But it's not your life I want..."
His stern visage dissolved when he finally understood her true objective. It actually came as a relief. With all of his previous doubts, he needed this diversion and would have been unable to turn it down even if he had wanted to, aching joints and all. He picked her up effortlessly and pressed her back against the alcove wall. Her legs immediately scissored themselves behind his back in expectation.
When he bent his head to kiss her, she pulled back and raised a claw in protest. "No," she hissed, "I won't hard drive a Maximal."
"All right," he relented and his Predacon insignia, so long submerged, appeared on the left mouth guard of his helmet as if it belonged there.
"Much better," she purred. This time when he kissed her, the concerns of alliances, enemies, and the Beast Wars were conveniently shelved until they both got precisely what they wanted.
Right on clockwork, Megatron appeared beside the regeneration chamber just as the repair cycle finished and the platform began to rise automatically. His fingers were twitching with the urgency of ripping his traitorous former subordinate's body to pieces again. Try to kill him, will he? Shame him in front of the other Predacons? No. This time he intended to pull off all of Dinobot's armor segments one by one as he worked his way deeper into the turncoat's internals. If he managed to get a hold of that elusive spark and extinguish it, so much the better. There was a lesson to be learned here, yes, one he wanted to hammer home to those who were still loyal to him.
You don't mess with the Mighty Megatron. Ever.
The platform lifted out of the heavy fog of the circular chamber but it wasn't Dinobot lying in the dais. There was a twitching, segmented green body flailing around in distress. Legs and wings were scattered around as if someone had plucked him. "Wazpinator... hatez... lizard bot!" he whined in a feeble drone.
Megatron slammed his fist down on the control panel and the platform dropped into the chamber with a crash, smothering the insect's pained whimpers. "I don't believe it," the huge Predacon said hoarsely, shaking his head. He drew in breath and gave voice to a roar that shuddered the Darkside right down to its ruined supports.
Several corridors away, Tarantulas came across Blackarachnia who was eying the ceiling with concern as Megatron's outraged screams reverberated throughout the ship. The seasoned arachnid viewed her unease and put two and two together quickly. "You helped Dinobot escape."
She narrowed her eyes at him and sneered, "You'd never be able to prove it."
Examining her lithe body with a single greedy eye, Tarantulas considered his companion shrewdly, trying to figure out her motives. Was it possible that she had wanted to learn some Predacon strategies from a former teammate? Had Dinobot told her things that he, himself, didn't know? That was intolerable! He had to find out what she knew! In his most nauseating drawl, he asked sweetly, "So tell me, my dear, did he satisfy your curiosity?"
Blackarachnia stared at him for a minute and then sashayed over and ran one teasing claw lightly across his cheek before pulling it back. The mere touch of her was enough to start him drooling. When she bent her head near his, he began to tremble all over, swallowing in hopeful anticipation.
"Twice," she whispered and turned away to walk down the corridor without so much as a backwards glance.
Tarantulas' shaking ceased and realization dawned when he finally understood precisely what she was implying. His visor, normally yellow, went crimson with rage.
"Dinobot!" he screeched.
It was almost dawn by the time Dinobot managed to limp his aching carcass back to the Maximal ship. He tried to remember the last time he had been this glad to see the old, dented eyesore and just couldn't seem to do it.
"Sentinel, stand down," he rasped and the defense shield around the ship recognized his voice and dropped the barrier long enough for him to enter the perimeter. As the lift to the ship descended, he transformed for the last time and staggered against one of the landing struts. He was completely exhausted, and it wasn't wholly from the long distance he'd traveled to return here either. True to her Black Widow nature, he'd been fortunate to escape Blackarachnia's grasp with his life.
Still, he couldn't quite submerge a satisfied smirk at the memory...
He was too preoccupied with the thought of returning to his quarters for some much needed downtime to even give any thought of the Maximal anniversary party. When the lift brought him up to the control room, he looked around in disbelief thinking that he had missed a battle. Streamers hung from the ramparts and lights overhead, the air was heavy with acrid smoke, there were large, circular colored orbs covering the floor (his foot came down on one of the balloons and he almost jumped when it exploded), and there were bodies scattered about amid the rest of the debris. Rattrap was slumped in the corner beside the regeneration chamber, and Cheetor was nearby in his cheetah form, curled into a yellow ball. Both were snoring.
"What in the inferno...?" he mused, casting an incredulous eye to the only bot in the room that still seemed conscious.
Optimus was sitting at the control table playing a game of solitaire. "You missed one heck of a party," he said as he laid down cards. "Tigatron had to carry Airazor home and Rhinox got the munchies and nearly ate all of our supplies. He passed out in the refrigerator."
"Madness," was all Dinobot had to say of it. He stared at the Maximal curiously, shelving his fatigue long enough to ask, "You were... waiting for me?"
"The Predacons were unusually quite tonight," the gorilla commented instead. He fixed the large bot with a knowing eye, "Your doing?"
Dinobot said nothing.
"You look like slag."
The deadlock between them lasted perhaps a few seconds before Dinobot broke off the contact and sat down into the nearest chair, almost falling into it. It was answer enough and Optimus nodded slowly to himself. "Well, whatever the case at least you're back home in one piece," he said, the tension in his body easing at long last.
"Home..." Dinobot mused, looking around at the mess. "...Yes, I suppose so." His large shoulders slumped in surrender.
His slight smile broadening, the gorilla was relieved to see that the conflict between them appeared to have resolved itself. Rhinox had been right after all. The former Predacon had vented his anger (precisely how, Optimus didn't want to know the details), and now was as calm and approachable as he would ever be. "You should have stayed, you know. This party wouldn't have even been possible if you hadn't come over to our side in the very beginning. I think even Rattrap realizes that much, which is why he rides you as much as he does. When I think about what could have happened –"
Tuning out the Maximal's sermonizing as he usually did, Dinobot noticed a glass nearby and took an experimental sniff of the drink. He was about to put it back down and then sniffed it again with interest. "This is Afterburn!"
"What is that?"
"Predacon liquor."
His friend was shaking his head in dismay. "Rattrap..." he muttered. "He has a habit of going to intergalactic black markets and buying banned contraband. He must have squirreled away a few bottles before we left Cybertron."
Only paying him half-attention, the larger bot was swirling the liquid around as he commented, "So named for the after effects it causes the next day. It's a wretched, foul-tasting beverage. Highly toxic. Lethal-" he downed the contents of the glass in one gulp.
"Well... that's just prime," Optimus murmured, shuffling the cards uneasily. He was coming to terms with the realization that perhaps dealing with Rattrap under the influence of a banned intoxicant wasn't going to be his worst of his troubles.
It was dealing with a drunk Dinobot.
"It's alright," the former Predacon surprised him by saying. "I'm immune to the beverage."
"And them?" Optimus cocked a thumb over at Rattrap and Cheetor.
"Don't expect much out of them on this day." There was a trace of amusement on Dinobot's face when he added, "Or the next."
Optimus stared at him for a moment and then burst into peals of loud laughter. Dinobot watched him with a half-smile on his face and then got slowly to his feet, rubbing the base of his spine and yawning. "I'm retiring to my quarters," he announced and started for the corridor.
"Just a minute," Optimus said when his laughter had died down into muted snickers. "I want to show you another Maximal game-"
"Optimus, there is no diversion in your entire database worth delaying my sleep-"
"Trust me, you'll like this one," Optimus said with a grin. He picked up a marker and explained the simple rules. It was something that had occurred to him as he'd been going slowly off his rocker ever since the party had swung into high gear. So, he didn't know what fun was, eh? He had a surprise or two up his sleeve yet.
As expected, Dinobot was intrigued.
It felt like someone had poured lava directly into his internals.
Grabbing his midriff, Rattrap sat up and gave voice to a belch that shook him right down to his toes. The gas singed his throat and he was certain that he actually saw sparks dance in the air before they winked out of sight. He had to squint to focus on his surroundings and his net core ached fiercely. Internal diagnostics assured him that he was all right but he thought that they might be tampered by whatever the slag was wrong with him. It could have been something he ate; Rhinox had been cooking some pretty weird concoctions down in the kitchen before he'd passed out. More likely it was the ethanol he had stashed in his quarters. The merchant from the Cybertron outer core market he had bought the containers from had assured him that it was the most potent Maximal booze available. Rattrap should have known better than to trust the word of a thief. Being one himself, and all...
He burped again, wincing, and this time developed the hiccups. It took him some time to quash the glitch and he got to his feet with difficulty. He bent briefly double, thinking he was going to throw up, and then looked down in confusion.
It looked like he had writing on his legs. What the slag-?
He held out his arms and saw the same markings and then whirled to look at his reflection in the regeneration chamber. "Aw, I don't slaggin' believe it!" he cried in dismay. He identified Dinobot's crisp, dramatic slashes right off the bat. "That slimy, no-good, miserable, backstabbing Pred-!"
But he also recognized the other penmanship with shock. He could never have guessed that the Boss Monkey would have the bearings to pull such a stunt. Apparently, ol' chopper-face was wearing off on him, and that wasn't a good thing. It looked like his days of stomping on his commander's toes without fear of reprisal had finally come to an end...
"Optimus, you son of a-" he slumped back down to the floor before he could get the last word out.
His entire body, from the tip of his skull right down to his feet was covered in tic-tac-toe games written in heavy black marker. He was covered in X's and O's across his face, chest, back, and everywhere else.
As it turned out, Dinobot liked this game much better than chess.
The End