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by J.A.S Nilsson

The camera zooms in on Good Guy Central.

Here I am, standing outside the Axalon and scanning the horizon for - for nothing in particular really.
It’s nice to look at something else then a computer screen for a while. I swear, when I close down for
the night sometimes I see diagrams and different readings in front of me.

"So what are you doing out here, just standing around?" Dinobot asked about seven cycles ago as he
came in from a routine patrol.

Just relaxing while I still have a little free time on my hands, Dinobot" I replied, smiling faintly.

He just shook his Velociraptor head and transformed to battle mode, then went inside muttering something
about wasting time. Heh. He could use a little good old fashioned r and r himself I reckon.

The sun slowly rises and from the looks of it it’s going to be another clear spring day. Another day I must
spend working and doing vital research inside. On a day like this I’d like nothing more then to just wander
around outside and do field research while enjoying the scenery. But I know my duties all too well.
Optimus and the others know they can always rely on me but I’m beginning to feel as though I was a part
of the ship and it’s computer systems.

Slowly shaking my head I sit down to relax a moment longer before duty calls again.
Ever since this war began on this remote planet we’ve all changed. Some, like me in subtle ways others in
not so subtle ways. My little buddy Rattrap has changed for the better I must admit.
Taking more responsibility did him a world of good. Yup. The thought brings on a faint smile.

‘Shame him and Dinobot bicker all the time. Perhaps they think it’s a fun pastime but listening to them
bicker every single day grates on my neurological circuitry. I’ve lost count of the number of times
Optimus and myself has told them to knock it off. They often do eh for a few moments anyway,
then it begins again. Spite the arguments I think Rattrap deep down likes chopper face even if
he is a former Predacon.

Or maybe it’s just me reading too much into things?

Optimus has learnt a great deal about himself and his strengths as leader and it shows.
My old friend knows only too well the burden that weight on his shoulders. I don’t envy him
and neither would I want to shoulder that kind of burden. The one I carry is heavy enough as it is.

The smile fades and suddenly the breeze seem to turn colder. An unpredicted change of weather?
Or am I just imagining things?

Every time one of my comrades or friends are seriously injured it’s up to me to save them with
the resources we have at hand. Optimus can assist alright, he’s had some medical training,
but I’m the medic and engineer guy. It’s up to me. Should I fail, then a life will be lost.
One life one spark. It’s not to be taken for granted. Ever!

Tarantulas. I wonder if he ever had second thoughts about what he did to one Maximal in
protoform state? Probably not. Black Arachnia was his first attempt to reprogram a Maximal into
a Predacon by using a shell program. Does she ever wonder who she could have been? Maybe.
Sigh. I wish we could have done something more to prevent what Tarantulas and fate itself had
in store for her. But it’s no use dwelling on that now.

The stasis pods in orbit are far from safe and those that came down besides Black Arachnia’s well...
Tigatron's identity circuits were damaged when his pod crashed, and as for Air Razor her spark was
nearly extinguished, had not Cheetor let me use his locking chip.

If it wasn’t for Megatron’s actions neither of us would be here. The war wouldn’t have started like
this and our crew would be out of harms way, free to be who they want to be with intact memories.
The Axalon would travel from planet to planet in the right time across the system, doing what it
set out to do. On the other hand we would never have known Dinobot and he would still be with
the Predacons. So many choices that we make or don’t make that affects our future, and in this place
in this time also the past.

Every time I think about Tarantulas and Megatron’s schemes my circuits frizzle. I don’t want to
hate anyone. It eats you up from the inside and makes you bitter. Megatron makes it difficult to
hold true to this notion!

After what the tyrant did to me I find it harder then ever not to hate him. He reprogrammed me into
a Predacon once but I caused too much trouble so in the end he turned me back to normal again.

As Predacon I knew who I was but yet not. It was as if something buried deep within me was altered
and twisted then unleashed, and there was no stopping it. There was no barrier, no moral of any sort
or compassion and certainly no love left for old friends remembered. I was not only Predacon
but something else, something much worse thanks to the Transmutor.

Whether the Predacons admit it or not they do have good sides just like everyone else. Dinobot is
a living example that some Predacons have some sort of strict moral code of their own.

I try not to reflect on the worst case scenario that could have unfolded had I defeated Megatron
and taken command over the Predacons. Because frankly it scares me. To think what I would have
done to Optimus, Rattrap and the others. It - it’s just too painful. I close my optic sensors and once
I open them again find myself staring at Axalons front, the command center.

Sometimes I wonder if Optimus will ever understand the full extent of what I went trough and the
aftermath of it. When asked about it I just joked it away, simply because I didn’t want to tell Rattrap
and the others the complete story.

It was a mistake holding things under a sealed lid in the first place. Dinobot undoubtedly understands
some of it, because he was a Predacon once and still thinks as one with a few notable exceptions.
But him and I, we don’t really see optic to optic most of the time. We don’t have long personal
discussions and probably never will either. Sigh. In battle situations however there is a silent
understanding between us. Heh. For all our misgivings in the past we work fairly well together
in sticky situations.

I’ve grown accustomed to his temper and manners, but there are times I just want to whap the
back of his head and tell him to can it. Like the time he was quick to point out Rattrap as a traitor!
Granted, I was eventually led to believe that my buddy had defected. But Dinobots eagerness to label
Rattrap a traitor long before his exchange with Terrosaur ticked me off. I’m glad it eventually turned out
to be a big hoax set up by Rattrap and Optimus to find out just how the Preds knew about our operations.
Clever in a sneaky sort of way.

The comm. link on my arm frizzles with activity. Rattraps voice declares,
"Hey, big green. Optimus wants to have a meeting pronto. The boss monkey said somethin'
about the golden disc. Again. Man, this is getting old fast!"

"On my way up, Rattrap."

Yup. So much for a longer moment of peace and quiet. I haul my heavy self up from the sitting
position, dusting myself off. Funny, can’t seem to shake the sinking feeling of deja-vu?
I shrug and make my way toward the entrance with heavy footsteps. On a day like any other.

The camera zooms out and the image fades to black

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