Chapter Three: Ripple EffectPre-History Earth: The Beast WarsThe AxalonPrimal was proud. Observing in silence from his quarters on-board the Axalon. Through the window, Cheetor was running drills with the troops below, evasive manoeuvres from Beast to Bot Mode and back again. Any flaring tempers - B'Boom - his protege was able to defuse with an ease that many within Maximal Command would struggle to emulate. Rattrap's withdrawal from active command had prompted Primal to consider Cheetor as a C.O. He previously believed the young Cat Bot had potential, yet had shied away from pushing him further, due to his impulsive nature. This choice had yielded such positive results, he felt a little guilty at his prior reluctance.
Movement in the corner of his optic drew him away from his reverie. Battle hardened instinct had him launch a mace with amazing speed to the source. The mace was deftly evaded by the darkness in the corner of the unlit room. Which then seemingly coalesced into the slight form of the Tri-Predacus Agent, Shadow. In truth, a deep cover Maximal Double Agent, known only to the Maximal Elders... and Optimus Primal.
"We have to talk, Commander." The agency in his voice betrayed intent he rarely vocalised. Giving the room a sudden ominous air.
"I'll give Rhinox the word to clear out the control room, so we can talk in privat.." Primal agreed, only to be cut short when Shadow staggered towards him. His hands flailing out and finding purchase on Primal's Transmetal chest, steadying himself.
"Rampage.. N-now leads the Predacons! He has already regained his spark core" Shadow interjected through gritted teeth. It was only now, when viewed from the sunlight flooding in through the window, that Primal took note of the heavy battle damage across the spies entire form. Even his mask was broken, revealing a mouth before unseen. Mech fluid trailed from one corner of it.
Instantly, Primal put a hand to his ear and raised Rhinox on the comm link.
"Rhinox. Commence Operation: Victory." The great ape commanded.
"..Sigh, I see. Ok." The Scientist's brief response, before the link fell silent.
Primal then returned his full attention to the injured bot before him. A deep concern coloured his features.
"I'll have a CR Chamber made ready immediately." Primal spoke softly, easing a hand onto the Panther's shoulder. A swift shrug dislodged the grip and refuted the gesture.
"There is no time for that. As for your last request, I was unable to find any trace of them prior to Megatron's capture." Shadow continued, as though nothing had happened.
"We've had no contact from Silverbolt (and Blackarachnia) for six mega cycles now. He was pursuing datatrax involving what Megatron's true agenda was on this planet. Now more than ever we need everyone accounted for and ready to mobilise." Primal vocalising his unease at the thought of a potential ambush befalling one of his most naive soldiers, even after he was warned,
"Priorities change in war, Primal. Were Megatron's capture the end of this one, we would have had more than enough time to look for your wayward Fuzor. As it stands, we now have a far more pressing threat to deal with." Shadow stating the facts, while tending to a wicked slash wound on his forearm.
"Agreed" Primal concurred with a sigh.
"Yet, we do have Megatron and Ravage. Not to mention with the Heavy Cruiser, the only means off this world.""Are you suggesting we up and leave them on this empty world?" Shadow replied, the tone in his voice relaying the unseen raised eyebrow. Primal smiled and shook his head.
"No. I'm suggesting we parley. I'm opting for peace" Primal's answer. Ever predictable, thought Shadow. His shoulders dropped at the words and he raised a hand to his half shielded face.
"Ever the optimist. I wonder if that isn't the root of the 'Optimus' designation?" With a mirthless chuckle, Shadow continued
"Surrender would be a sound option to rational, leader-less Predacons. But sound decisions don't really befit Rampage." Shadows natural cynicism dripping with every word.
Unphased, Primal resumed his trail of thought
"Our ancestors waged war for millions of Stellar Cycles. If there is any chance I can end this one, in a fraction of the time, how could I pass on such an opportunity?" It was clear Primal was beseeching to more than just the spy before him. Perhaps a bid to convince himself too?
Days later, Overbite sent a pulse message to the Darksyde. Expressing Primal's desire to end the conflict. Rampage, much to everyone's surprise, replied favourably. Requesting a representative from each faction, dispatched to a neutral location - the ruins of the Standing Stones - to discuss terms.
Shadow, emerged two days following his meeting with Primal, from a secret custom CR chamber in his hidden base. He immediately began to notice something amiss, from all his surveillance devices across Predacon territory. As the war intensified, following the Quantum Surge, the mold variants would soon splinter into sub factions. Claiming individual territories, while still falling under Megatron's banner.
The folly of Transquito never forgotten.
Upon Shadow's arrival one month after the Surge, he took it upon himself to chart and monitor these individual bases with great interest. It was, after many cycles spent observing and recording everything that occurred throughout this secret war, he grew anxious with what he now saw. He left for the closest base, immediately.
Laserbeak and the other Saurians had left the Eyrie. It wasn't just empty, it was completely abandoned. No defences were activated. In fact, no system was even still running at all. Attempts to activate them, highlighted that all essential components had been stripped clean. There was nothing left of strategic or intelligence value. Transforming back into Beast Mode, Shadow descended the mountain and moved towards the next base.
Three more days pass. The peace talks occurring tomorrow. Night fell, as Shadow approached the last sub-base. Primal had confided he was secretly hopeful of a swift resolution to the war in light of Rampage's positive response. Of the ten sub bases, the previous nine were all empty. Stripped clean. The occupants were all gone. Should this outlet cove follow suit (and it was unlikely this wouldn't be the case) logically, The Darksyde was the only place they could have all gone.
This was also the worst possible scenario. It meant an army was being amassed, once again.
"So much for peace talks, eh Primal?" An 'I told you so' for later, Shadow muttered to himself.
The Darksyde was also a problem. Shadow mused while exploring the coastal base of Snapdragon. Tarantulas had long since placed numerous safe guards to prevent entry to anyone other than those coded by himself, at Megatron's request. Shadow, known as an agent of the council, was strictly limited to "guest" status. An access code relayed to him in person by Megatron, when his presence was requested. That didn't happen often and in light of his capture, Shadow doubted turning up and demanding the code from the stasis locked tyrant would do anything other than reveal his true nature. To his fellow Predacons and the General himself. Stranger still, Tarantulas was well aware of Shadow's "divided loyalties". Just as Shadow also knew the mad Spider served as the second in command to the Predacon secret police. Each knowing the secret of the other. Yet neither acted on it.
Megatron, nor anyone else, ever knew what that spider was really aware of.
This always puzzled Shadow. He knew that should this war come to an end, he would have to ensure the Spider did not leave alive, for him to continue his mission. Lost in his own thoughts he left the cave mouth. Casually returning to Beast Mode, crossing the beach, back towards the jungle.
A brief flash of plasma and his tail was gone. He span through the air into nearby brush. Transforming when he reached cover, minimal as it was. His sensors, further enhanced by his own personal augmentation, were telling him nothing. This last outpost, was just as empty as the rest. The beach utterly devoid of tracks. Snapdragon himself, hadn't been seen here in some time. His sub-ordinates, the reptiles and amphibians, had long since been folded back into Megatron's personal guard. So who was the enemy here? Better question, in the dead of night, who could see him and remain undetectable?
"I'm glad to see such initiative, in at least one of my little flock" Rampage heartily bellowed, walking atop a rocky outcrop.
Worst case scenario. Again.
"I have been looking for a volunteer. As I am in need of a herald to deliver a message" Rampage continued.
Shadow, ever still, crouched in the undergrowth, slowly drew Shadow Mist, his trusty blaster. Fixing his gaze on the King Crab, he took aim at the rock beneath his feet. Plan: Unbalance the enemy, then run at full speed for the jungle.
Chance of Survival: 42%. His A.I. exposited. Thanks for the confidence, the spy scowled.
Another flash of Plasma, the brush and his blaster were gone. A missile then sang through the air, detonating the ground before Shadow. The impact sending Shadow hurtling through the air, impacting against the nearest tree. Dazed and confused from the blast, his senses finally realigned into the vision of Rampage's feet looming in front of him.
Chance of Survival: 3%. All datatrax upload to Maximal Command, engaged. The A.I. acknowledged, then fell silent.
"Thank you" Shadow weakly muttered. Already feeling his amassed knowledge of the Beast Wars, leaving his mind for elsewhere.
"What was that?" Rampage queried from above, lifting the Cat Bot effortlessly into the air to his eye level. One hand encompassing his entire torso.
"I think that was a 'thank you', My Lord" Voiced Razorclaw, emerging decloaked and without a sound from the coastal tide. The gun mode of the lobotomised Buzzsaw, pulsing in his hand.
Of Course. Rampage's own little shadow. The Other Crab. The realisation would be the spies last.
"Now..." Rampage spoke, locking eyes with the Spy
"My little opportunist. While taking advantage and sizing up unchallenged territory for your own, is a noble Predacon endeavour. I would expect nothing less from someone of your standing. Primal is offering us the keys to a way off this worthless mudball. So the time for further power grabs and intrigue here, is over. And as you are the loner of our little "family", I can't think of anyone better suited to complete my task at hand." Rampage, drew his face closer to the mask of Shadow and, as much as was possible for him, smiled a big grin.
"Wha..?" The confused response being the last word of the Tri-Predacus Agent. Rampage took his other hand and with one motion, grabbed Shadow's head and tore it effortlessly from his body. The Mutant Mask covering his face, shattered from the grip. Revealing a face, perfectly ordinary.
Megatron, nor anyone else, ever knew what that spider was really aware of.
The dismembered head held between two fingers, Rampage observed its blank expression with his head tilted to one side.
"No smile? The lowly fool should be pleased for the honour of this mission." Rampage chuckled aloud.
"After all, he wasn't even a Transmetal. I doubt he would have survived much further." He snorted before carefully closing his left hand around the head. With his right he tossed the body towards the ocean. It skipped twice, before unceremoniously sinking beneath the waves.
Razorclaw gasped.
"My Lord..?" voicing his surprise. As currently exemplified by Buzzsaw, the Fiddler Crab has a dark talent of his own. Taxidermy. Specifically retrofitting the bodies of his foes into weapons, armaments or just spare parts. Rampage respects his abilities. Others are both repulsed and afraid.
"No! Not him." Rampage commanded and turned, walking the short distance to the Standing Stones. Looking back towards the water with a look of disappointment, Razorclaw broke into a jog to catch up to his master.
Midday came and from the clouds to the east, Apelinq and Optimus Primal arrived via flight mode, to the appointed location. Landing in Bot Mode, it was less than a cycle before Primal, expecting to meet one or two Predacons, made the grim discovery.
A parade of pikes were displayed within the centre of the ruins. A macabre arrow, the shape mimicking the Darksyde, pointing to Predacon territory. Atop each pike, bore a head. The Seacons. Contact with the Maximal allies, had been lost last week amid a violent tropical storm. Megatron's capture had offset attempts at reestablishing contact.
The frozen looks on their faces, emitted nothing but utter horror and agony. At the apex of the arrow was the head of Shadow. A message had been carved into his face...
'No retreat, No surrender! No More Talk...'Apelinq, looked away in disgust at the ghoulish display. Primal let out a roar in pain.
End of Part one