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Goodnight, Sweet Prince
I still can't believe he's gone. Oh, sure, I know we aren't invincible.
Heck, I'm usually the one pointing that out to everybody around me. Usually
all I get in return is a perfunctory "Shut up, Rattrap." The other guys,
now they always seem to think we're indestructible, like the heroes on
some kid show. Silverbolt especially, although Cheetor runs a close second.
I used to put the Boss Monkey on that list, but since he's died recently
himself, that doesn't really apply anymore.
Well, if we ever thought we were immortal, we know better now. It's
been repeatedly hammered into our heads over the past- geez, I don't even
know how long it's been. First, Megatron blows Optimus to bits. That didn't
teach us anything, though, 'cause he came back right away. Then Tigatron
and Airrazor disappeared. I know some of my shipmates figure they're history,
but I learned a long time ago, you don't count a guy dead until you can
see the scrap. And sometimes, not even then.
So we still had to learn our lesson, and boy, we learned it good. I
couldn't believe it when we made it to the valley. He'd been through so
much, I guess even I figured he was indestructible. Instead, though, he
was lying on the ground, and it was pretty obvious even a CR chamber wasn't
going to help. But he'd taken out six Predacons, all by himself, all for
a bunch of furry little guys who would someday become human beings. And
I was givin' him grief about his allegiances. Shows how much I knew.
I never thought it would hurt that much, y'know? I mean, he was a scaly
pain in the tail, end of story. But- somehow, he got inside me, where I'd
never let anyone go before. So I swallowed back everything and gave him
the closest I could come to an apology.
_You're just a blasted slag-spoutin' saurian, but- it's good to know
where ya stand._ It probably didn't sound that great to anyone listening,
but it was all I could do. He looked at me, and he really smiled, for the
first time I can remember.
_Upwind of you, for preference, vermin._ The weirdest way to accept
an apology I've ever heard, but it was enough.
We've had the funeral, and everybody's headed off to their quarters
to be alone with their thoughts. Everybody but me, that is. I'm sitting
in Chopper-face's room, the best place I can think of for my own little
tribute. It looks as though he's just stepped out for a minute- we gotta
do something about that. It's fine now, but in a month or so, it'll just
be creepy.
Anyway, I figure this is the best place to go through my memories of
the guy. It's a good way to put things in order, to go on. And, crazy as
it sounds, it's a gesture of respect that I owe him.
I never would have thought things would end up like this. I wasn't
keen on an exploratory mission in the first place- but I'd ticked off some
higher-ups among Maximal High Command, and I wasn't in any place to pick
and choose. Then I get stuck on a deserted planet with a grass-green commander,
and I figure things can't get worse. That's when Lizard-lips shows up.
Lemme tell you, it was hate at first sight.
We were polar opposites, you know? Ever since I came on-line, I've
lived by one rule, and that was "watch your tail." I didn't have friends-
that left you too vulnerable. And alliances only lasted as long as there
was something in it for you. The only reason I wasn't a Pred was that I
wouldn't shoot a bot in the back. Other than that, honor wasn't a word
that meant a whole lot to me.
Chopper-face, on the other hand, would have made a GREAT Maximal. Actually,
he DID make a great Maximal. The only problem was that he'd been a Predacon
long enough that the social structure was hardwired in. Still, here was
a guy who lived and breathed honor, who was literally nothing without it.
Primus alone knows how he hooked up with Megatron's crew.
Just between you, me, and the doorpost, he and the Boss Monkey were
good for me. I'd never admit that out loud, of course, but they taught
me a lot, about friends and about doing what's right. I'm honored to consider
these guys my friends, and I know with them around, I'd never have to worry
about my back. I'd even consider Dino-butt my friend. Now I just wish I
could have told him.
Dino-butt, Chopper-face, Lizard-lips- you know, it's funny, but I don't
know that I ever once addressed him by his real name. Stupid, I know, but
it's the kind of thing you think of once somebody's gone. There're a lot
of things I'm sorry for, but I'm not sorry I knew him. No way.
Liquid Energon is hard to come by on this tub, and most of it goes
for the medical bays. What little of it is left over, we have to carefully
ration, or do without. What the heck, though- he's worth it. Turning towards
the empty room, I raise my glass in a toast. "Here's to you, Dinobot,"
I say aloud. "Hope the Matrix is ready for ya." Draining the glass, I take
one last look around. He's not here anymore, though, if he ever was. That's
all right- after all, that's what memories are for.
Turning around, I head back towards my own quarters. I'd better try
and get some downtime- tomorrow's sure to be another busy day.
"Goodnight, sweet prince/ and may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." - William Shakespeare, "Hamlet."