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Shadows in the Mist
It was a quiet day around the Ark, something Optimus Primal hadn't experienced
in far too long. Most of his crew were out on patrol, although he'd taken
care to
give Silverbolt and Black Arachnia one of the less vital areas. They'd
been through a lot recently, and he felt they needed some time to recuperate.
And getting them
out of the base would be the best thing for everyone.
Depth Charge had been deployed a little closer to the Predacon lines.
Although the manta-themed Maximal was officially simply a scout, Optimus
knew that he was
probably hunting for Rampage. No amount of lecturing seemed to make
a dent in Depth Charge's vendetta, and the Maximal commander had long since
ceased
trying. Now he just hoped that whatever trouble Depth Charge ran into
could be handled without a full-scale assault.
Meanwhile, Rhinox was ensconced in his lab, doing what he did best-
things that none of the rest of them understood. Speaking of people in
their element- Optimus'
thoughts turned to Cheetor, out scouting new territory towards their
south. The youngest of the team always did like such assignments, even
after the change that
Megatron's Transmetal 2 technology had wrought in him.
Rattrap was on monitor duty, as usual, these days. Primal sighed. And
THERE'S the main reason it's so quiet around here, he thought to himself.
Almost too
quiet. The smallest of the Maximals had been noticeably less
mouthy since Dinobot had died, and Optimus had been a little surprised
to realize that he was missing
their bickering. The quadruple changer rested his chin on one hand,
watching silently as Rattrap checked the sensors once more, then returned
to his video game.
The rat would be the last person to admit that he was missing Dinobot,
but the signs were obvious to anyone who cared to look. Rattrap's general
flow of complaints
and digs had been almost non-existent lately, a sure sign that something
was wrong. Oh, Rattrap had still launched barbs at Black Arachnia and Depth
Charge, but it
hadn't been the same. His comments to their Predacon ally had held
a venom that was normally only feigned by the saboteur, and his digs at
Depth Charge had
sounded forced.
I wonder, did Rattrap blame Black Arachnia for her part in Dinobot's
death? Or, in some bizarre way, did she seem to be taking his place?
It did seem as if they were leaving the memories of their fallen comrades
behind. Things had been so hectic lately that there hadn't been any time
to sit and think. Then there was
Megatron's new Dinobot to consider. Despite the warmth in the volcanic
cavern, Primal couldn't repress a shudder. The creature was a mockery of
everything the
original had stood for.
A beeping from the sensor banks snapped Primal out of his thoughts, as he endeavored to look busy. Wouldn't want Rattrap to think I was worried about him. A ghost of a smile crossed Optimus' face. He'd probably be insulted.
"Eh, yo, Optimus, looks like the tabby at twelve o'clock," Rattrap reported. "Guess he finished his scouting mission."
Primal nodded. "Thank you, Rattrap. I'll go open the doors."
As Cheetor strode in through the front gate, Optimus noted that he seemed
a little shaken, although he was trying to hide it. His footsteps were
a little too fast,
however, even for the self-proclaimed "fast cat."
"Is something wrong?" Optimus easily managed to keep up with the younger Maximal.
"No, Big Bot, nothing." A quick glance at his commander told Cheetor
that the bluff was useless. He sighed. "Okay, but it's really silly. I
was checking out the south,
and thinking it was about time to head back. Anyway, I got turned around
somehow, and entered these canyons. After a couple hundred feet, they started
filling up
with mist."
"And?"
"And- it was really spooky, okay? I kept- seeing things, just at the
limit of my sight. Just shadows, really." From Cheetor's reluctance to
make eye contact, Optimus
guessed that it was not Predacons that Cheetor thought he was seeing.
It was also obvious that pushing would get him nothing more. So the leader
of the Maximals
simply shrugged.
"Well, why don't you mark these canyons on the map? They might come
in handy in case we ever need to set up an ambush." Cheetor headed up to
the bridge, and
the matter was forgotten- for the time being.
"You've GOT to be kidding me." Rattrap's voice was flat, as befitted the statement he was making. Primal shook his head.
"Not at all. Look, someone has to patrol the line between our territory
and the Predacons', right? And I'd rather put Cheetor on the more exploratory
missions, due
to his speed. Black Arachnia and Silverbolt are still out on their
patrol." Primal's voice raised slightly. "And Depth Charge is going
to be watching the sensors
today. Maybe that will break his habit of nearly scrapping himself."
The subject of Primal's rebuke folded his arms across his chest. "I nearly had him."
"Yeah, Flounder-face, and he nearly had you- as the blue plate special,"
Rattrap interjected. "Man, when are you gonna figure out that you can't
handle Rampage on
your own?"
"When you learn to keep your pointed nose out of other people's business, mouse!"
Primal concealed a grin- he HAD been missing the sound of bickering.
_I must have a short somewhere,_ he thought wryly. "If I may interrupt,
gentlemen, this
assignment is NOT negotiable. Rattrap, I want you to make a fast sweep
of our perimeter. Don't stay out too long- we don't want to draw any unwanted
attention.
Just check for any evidence that Megatron's come up with a new scheme."
Rattrap snorted. "The day ol' Purple-puss DOESN'T have some type of scheme is the day they rebuild me into a blender."
"That can be arranged," Depth Charge offered.
"You just stay out of this, Fishsticks, before I decide to fillet you and get it over with!"
"Enough! Rattrap, you have your patrol orders, and Depth Charge- I believe
the sensor watch stations have your name on them." Grumbling, the two Maximals
headed off to carry out their assignments.
The plains of prehistoric Earth had seen a number of strange things
since the Maximals and Predacons had first crashed there. A giant rat with
wheels was not one of
the strangest. Mindful of Optimus' orders, Rattrap was moving at a
fairly good clip, but he still had time to notice the scenery around him.
I gotta admit, Stripes was right- this really is a beautiful place. When it's not trying to kill you, or you're trying not to get splattered over the landscape by Preds. The thought of Tigatron brought with it a rush of emotions. Rattrap had never admitted it, but the deaths of his comrades had hit him pretty hard. I thought I'd seen the last of that back during the Great War.
He'd always liked Tigatron and Airazor, although he'd taken care to
keep them at a safe distance. That was always how he'd operated- that way,
it didn't hurt so
much when you lost people. And you always lost them.
As always, this line of thought led him to Dinobot. I can't believe
I was dumb enough to become friends with a Pred! And not just ANY Pred,
I get one who's
interested in nothing more than dying an 'honorable death,' and
didn't think anything about dragging the rest of us along for the ride!
And then, just to compound my stupidity, he had to go and get himself killed!
With a shake of the head, Rattrap pulled himself out of the line of
thoughts that he was following. That was the trouble with patrol- there
was nothing out here but
you and your thoughts. At least doing sensor watch on the Ark, a guy
could distract himself with video games or something- anything to keep
from actually having to
think.
Rattrap ground to a halt as he realized WHY Primal had sent him on this mission. Oh, for booting up cold! Some spy I am... transparent as glass. I've got to hand it to our fearless leader, though... I never suspected a thing. He'd have made a pretty good operative himself. Not with that beast mode, though... Gorillas make lousy spies. Now a bat... Yeah. That, I can see.
Starting his patrol once more, Rattrap entertained himself with images
of Optimus Primal maximizing into a bat. He had only just begun moving
when he was almost
knocked off his wheels by a truly repulsive stench. Of all the Maximals,
Silverbolt was the best tracker in Beast Mode, but Rattrap's nose wasn't
too shabby either.
Besides, the stink would be readily detectable to any creature that
perceived the world via scent.
It was not an organic smell- not the stink of something dead, or leaving
organic by-products behind. Instead, it stunk of strange metal and something
indefinable,
something that always made Rattrap think of Tarantulas. The closest
he could come was that it was the smell of evil. As far as he knew, only
one thing on the planet
had THAT particular stench.
"Dinobot," Rattrap whispered. Suddenly, he realized that the birds and
small animals he usually heard in this area were all silent. Careful,
Rattrap. This guy moves
like silent lightning. Scent- follow it... BEHIND ME! Spinning
his wheels, the Transmetal rat lunged forward, just as the new Dinobot
threw himself out of the brush. Gaining some distance, Rattrap slewed around
to face his enemy, transforming as he did so. Dinobot followed suit, and
the two of them faced off in robot mode.
As happened every time he faced Megatron's newest warrior, Rattrap felt
his oil run cold. The thing looked so much like his fallen friend, and
yet, so different. The
features were the same, but there was no sparkle of warmth in the eyes.
And that white color made the image of facing off with a ghost all that
much stronger. All of
Rattrap's senses were locked upon his adversary, but one illogical
though flitted through his mind. If this guy calls me "Vermin," I am
going to LOSE it.
The two combatants circled, each looking for weaknesses or openings. "Surrender, Maximal," Dinobot snarled. "You cannot hope to defeat me."
Rattrap snorted. "If you think I'm going to lay down and just let you scrap me, you've got another think coming, Casper."
"As you wish." Dinobot's laser eye blazed slightly, all the warning
Rattrap had before the ruby laser shot forth. It was enough, however, for
the Transmetal rat to
dodge. Hitting the ground, he rolled smoothly, coming up on one knee.
From that position, he pumped several shots into Dinobot, throwing the
Predacon back into
the bushes.
"That ought to keep him down for a few seconds," Rattrap decided. He
had no illusions about the power of his weapon, and knew the Transmetal
2 could heal such
wounds very quickly. Should buy me some time to take this fight
elsewhere, though, the Maximal mused, returning to his vehicle mode.
Let's get the terrain to
fight on MY side. Rattrap roared off in a cloud of smoke, just
as Dinobot recovered his balance. Switching to Beast Mode, the raptor loped
after the fleeing hot
rod at an incredible pace.
Depth Charge was glaring at each of the sensor readouts in turn, wondering
briefly what offense he had committed to deserve his current duty. Ever
helpful, his
internal computer quickly served up a list, which the manta quickly
squelched. He was feeling sorry for himself, and that wasn't helping.
A burst of static from the communications console suddenly drew his
attention, and he opened the channel, wondering who would be calling in
at this point in the
patrol. The voice coming through answered that question almost immediately.
"Yo! Rattrap to base, does anybody read me?" There was such a note of
panic in the rat's voice that Depth Charge almost didn't recognize it.
He frowned. Rattrap
was a lot of things, but he was definitely not a coward.
"Depth Charge here. What have you gotten yourself into this time, mouse?"
Rattrap ignored the taunt, something that alarmed Depth Charge further.
"I'm running south-southwest, along the border of Pred territory, and Dinobot's
on my tail!
I'm gonna try to lose him in those canyons Cheetor mentioned, but I'm
making no guarantees. Back-up would be nice- I don't wanna become rat soufflé!"
"Hang on, Rattrap. Back-up's on its way." Depth Charge turned from the console to find Optimus Primal already there.
"You're not going, Depth Charge," Optimus informed him, cutting the
Transmetal's protest off before it could begin. "Trip through the CR chamber
aside, you are in
NO condition to go picking another fight with Megatron’s troops, especially
not Dinobot."
"I'm fine," Depth Charge replied coolly. "My systems recover fast."
"Why are you so anxious to get out there, anyway?" Primal asked, a half-smile on his face.
For a second, Depth Charge actually stumbled. "The- the rat's not THAT
bad, I guess. Besides, Dinobot has half of Rampage's spark. That means
I have to slag
him, too, if I'm going to stop Rampage."
"Right. Unfortunately, you're still not going. You're not fast enough,
and you don't know those canyons. I'm sending Cheetor- he's headed in that
direction anyway.
You stay here and monitor the sensors. Let Cheetor know if Megatron
sends Dinobot any help."
Depth Charge fumed silently, but sat back down as ordered. "Slag," he growled, banging a fist on one console. "Radioactive, hard-fused slag.
Primus, if I lose this thing, I’ll never steal rations from my teammates again. Rattrap roared along the plains, all too aware of the Cyber-raptor that was hot on his trail. I’ll stop picking on Silverbolt. Sweet Matrix, I’ll even clean my ROOM! His prayers were having little effect, and he was beginning to contemplate pulling out the big guns.
Rattrap was just on the verge of promising never to insult Depth Charge
again when he spotted the entrance to the canyons. YES! Hold that thought-
this is going
to take the Pit’s own luck. Not slowing for an instant, the
rat dashed through the narrow rock opening, and headed for the swirling
mists. No sooner had he entered the concealing cloud of white than he transformed
without stopping. His inertia combined with the loss of his wheels catapulted
him into a somersault, allowing him to land on his feet.
Robot mode’s slower, but a heck of a lot more quiet, he mused. And that’s what I need right now- stealth. It’s time to play a little cat and mouse. Funny- that used to be one of my favorite games. Somehow, it’s not the same when you’re the hunted, though.
Rattrap’s didn’t move quite as quietly as Tigatron once had, but he
was pretty quiet. The sandy dirt that covered the floor of the canyons
cushioned his steps still
further, and only a faint crunch broke the whispers of wind that beat
the white air into swirling currents. Gun ready, Rattrap eased behind a
rock pillar, watching
intently back the way he had come.
Without warning, a beam of red light swept through the canyon, and Rattrap
ducked hastily to avoid having his head blown off. On all fours now, the
Transmetal rat
eased backward into the canyons, watching as a Dinobot-shaped shadow
faded in and out, projected on the fog.
“Surrender, Maximal,” the skeletal bot chuckled. “I am the hunter, you are the prey. It is the natural order of things.”
Natural? There is NOTHING natural about you, Bones, Rattrap thought
to himself. In the concealing fog, he could probably get one clear shot--
but that would
give away his position. And the idea is to buy time for the cavalry
to come and keep my tail from getting slagged, not to take this guy out.
That would just be a bonus.
Trying to remain as still as possible, Rattrap entertained a brief fantasy
of the entire Maximal command-- even Rhinox-- showing up to blow Dinobot
away. Of
course, the Boss Monkey would never leave the base unguarded like
that, but I can dream.
A crunching footstep drew his attention back to the present, and he
looked up to see that Dinobot had taken advantage of his reverie to get
much to close. Not even
bothering to stand up, Rattrap scurried away through the fog, hearing
the Predacon behind him following the faint sounds of his passage.
Great- now how do I LOSE this guy? Taking a desperate chance, Rattrap leaped into the air, tucking into a somersault which catapulted him into a side niche. That ought to give Zombie-bot something to chew over for a while, if only for the lack of tracks.
At this point, a less experienced warrior would probably be hauling
tail in the direction of the Ark, leaving scorch marks in his wake. A small
portion of Rattrap’s
CPU was screaming for him to do just that, but the Maximal saboteur
hadn’t survived nearly three hundred years by being impulsive. If he moved,
Dinobot would be
able to track him. Any sound or track would be a dead giveaway to a
creature that was designed to hunt. Besides, if he headed for the base,
Dinobot would be
certain to anticipate his direction and cut him off.
If I wasn’t the only one in this situation, the rat thought wryly, this is the point where I’d be saying, ‘We’re all gonna die.’
[Shut up, Rattrap.]
Rattrap’s head jerked. Oh, slag, now I’m hearing things. That couldn’t
have been Airazor, could it? Nah. I’ve just gotten to the point where I
expect that
comeback. Hearing Dinobot’s approach, he shifted back into the
crevice that sheltered him. He couldn’t see the Predacon through the swirling
mists-- hopefully that
worked in reverse, too. Only the soft sounds of clawed footsteps told
him that his hunter was close by.
I get why this place spooked you so bad, Spots. I gotta wonder, though- what did you see?
Slowly, quietly, Rattrap crept down the canyon, ears and nose alert
for any sign of his pursuer. Deciding to forgo weapons for the moment,
he had reverted to Beast
Mode, reasoning that it was quieter and he would be more able to slip
into any nooks and crannies. I can’t keep this up much longer, he
thought, despair
beginning to creep in. Sooner or later, that thing is going to find
me and tear me into little tiny pieces.
[Optimus didn’t blow himself to bits just so we could get scrapped by space junk.]
Hearing his own voice carried on the breeze nearly caused Rattrap to
yell out loud. Just in time, he remembered his situation, and bit his tongue
to stifle the noise.
What is going on here? Here I am, seconds away from being rat-slag,
and I’m hallucinating?
[It happens-- but miracles happen too.]
Rhinox this time. Hallucinations or not, Rattrap was beginning to detect a definite point to these flashbacks.
All right, all right, already. I’m not going to just lay down and die, all right? Happy?
Rattrap listened intently, but there was no reply on the whispered wind.
He shook his head at his own fancifulness. Next thing you know, I’ll
be out ‘communing
with nature,’ like ol’ Stripes. Nah. Never happen.
Moving down the crevice again, Rattrap was unprepared when Dinobot,
in Beast Mode, suddenly leapt from somewhere above him. Sharp talons dug
into the dirt
not more than two inches from the rat’s nose.
No one could accuse Rattrap of having poor reflexes. It was one of the
few things he HADN’T been accused of in his life. No sooner had Dinobot
made earthfall
than Rattrap had changed to vehicle mode and had shifted into hyper-reverse.
As a bonus, his rapidly churning wheels threw a large quantity of sand
into Dinobot’s
eyes. The raptor had to stop and clear his optics before giving chase.
All thought of stealth forgotten, Rattrap zoomed down the canyon, his
only thought how to lose his pursuer without losing his life. Behind him,
Dinobot’s snarls
echoed off the rock walls, giving the entire scene the ambiance of
a nightmare.
Suddenly a blast of ruby light shot out, catching Rattrap under the
wheels and catapulting him into a wall. Stunned, the Maximal barely managed
to achieve robot
mode before slumping to the ground. The helpless rat could only watch
as Dinobot transformed, stalking closer with a triumphant sneer on his
face.
“And at last, the game is ended, rodent,” the Predacon hissed. “And
I am the victor. Prepare for oblivion.” Raising one wickedly clawed hand,
Dinobot lunged
forward, ready for the kill.
His vision blurry and cutting in and out, Rattrap was unsure what exactly
occurred next. One minute, Dinobot was coming at him like white death;
the next,
something long and brown caught the Predacon in the chest, throwing
him back almost ten feet. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Rattrap
struggled to his
feet and plunged into the mists once more.
What WAS that? It was a tree branch, it had to be. Sure, the mist was thickening and thinning- we probably just couldn’t see it before. Although there aren’t a lot of trees in this area… and that thing SURE looked like a tail. A long, scaly tail. No! It couldn’t be- could it? Rattrap slowed to a stop.
Suddenly a shape darkened the mists before him, long-necked, with a
tail and a posture somewhat like a bird’s. Rattrap tensed, thinking for
a second that his
opponent had come after him again-- then realized that the silhouette
was far too streamlined for the Predacon hunter. Even as the rat processed
what he was seeing,
the shadow was fading back into the mists.
“Hey- wait!” The cry was startled out before Rattrap could think better
of it. The Maximal plunged headlong into the fog after the shadow he had
seen, never quite
losing it or catching it. Finally, it seemed to turn a corner. Rattrap
followed-
And emerged into brilliant sunlight on the other side of the canyons. He had come the entire way through the mist-filled maze- and he was alone.
That quickly changed, however, as the sound of a rocket engine heralded
Cheetor’s arrival. “Rattrap!” the young Maximal cried, skidding to a stop.
“Are you all
right? Where’s Dinobot?”
“Eh, I gave him the slip-- back there.” The rat jerked a thumb over
his shoulder. Cocking his head, he examined the scout carefully. “Hey,
listen, kid-- I know you
didn’t tell Optimus the whole story about those canyons. I’m not going
to read you the riot act,” Rattrap continued, seeing Cheetor about to protest.
“I just wanna
know. What exactly did you see?”
“Nothing, Rattrap. Just a lot of mist.” Cheetor refused to meet the older Maximal’s eyes, though.
“Kid, this is me you’re talking to. You don’t have to try and save face. Please? I need to know that I’m not losing my circuits.”
Cheetor sighed. “I really didn’t SEE anything, Rattrap. Just a lot of
shadows that could have been anything or nothing at all. But- I thought
one of them looked an
awful lot like a tiger.”
For a long moment, Rattrap was silent. “Well, kid, I don’t think either of us is losing it just yet. I wonder what that place is?”
“I dunno. Tigatron said once that the people you care about never go
away, not really. It’s like flowers. When the snow comes, they’re dead…
but they bloom in
the spring. Maybe that mist just- makes it a little easier to see them.”
The two of them thought about that for a while. Their thoughts were
interrupted, however, by a blood-chilling roar. It was easily recognizable
as Megatron’s
Dinobot- but there was a note of fear in it that neither of them had
heard before. It was answered by another roar- incredibly similar, yet
indefinably different.
Cheetor shot Rattrap a look.
“What do you think he’s seeing?”
“I think- we’re better off not knowing.” Then Rattrap shook off his serious demeanor. “Let’s not stand around here jawing, Pussy Cat! Race you to the base!”
Cheetor grinned. “You’re on!”
Rattrap converted to vehicle mode, and the two Maximals roared off, leaving only a cloud of dust in their wake.
The End