Never Did Run Smooth, Ch. 11
Interlude: Spotlight on the Predacon base! Terrorsaur's having a rotten day and Megatron is thinking (never a good sign).
- - - - -
Terrorsaur's life sucked slag. It really did.
"HOW could you fail?" Megatron demanded. "No, really. Explain this to me. Tarantulas built the tower, it was nearly operational, I had five of you clowns guarding it, against what, two or three Maximals -- WHAT WENT WRONG?"
He punctuated the question by slamming the pterodactyl back against a console. Terrorsaur stifled a yelp of pain as the theropod teeth on Megatron's right "hand" punctured the plating on his torso and arm.
"It's not my fault!" he protested, though he knew his voice rasped on Megatron's nerves and that it would probably invite a worse beating. He'd never been able to stop his mouth from flapping when he was nervous. "W-Waspinator and I just got there! It was Tarantulas who let the tower be destroyed, a-and Inferno and Scorponok were supposed to be guarding--" He cut off with a squeak as the jaws squeezed tighter, threatening to crack his exostructure.
"I sent the two of you in to chase off the Maximals! It should have been a simple task even for you. Instead my plans are in pieces, Tarantulas and Inferno are both in repair tanks, and Optimus Primal still lives!" Megatron rapped Terrorsaur's helm with the heavy tail segment on his left hand. "How am I supposed to conquer Cybertron with such incompetent subordinates? My namesake must have had at least one mech in ten who could tell his CPU from his exhaust port, but I seem to lack his fortune!"
He spun, hurling the pterosaur to the deck a few meters away. The flier landed with a noisy clatter, right at the feet of his wingmate. Waspinator's mandibled face was impassive, but anyone watching closely would have seen him flinch, fists clenching tighter at his sides. He couldn't very well intervene on Terrorsaur's behalf, not if he wanted to be intact to help fix him later.
As Megatron turned away again, however, the wasp extended a hand to surreptitiously help his wingmate to his feet. Blackarachnia, sitting at a monitor station off to one side, watched them from a corner of her optic and snorted.
"At times I wonder if it's fortune at all," the Predacon ruler mused aloud to himself. "I certainly can't rule out the possibility that such incompetence is deliberate... especially concerning some." He whirled back around to face the fliers just as Terrorsaur regained his feet. "It would be easy enough to sabotage my plan and then claim that you were defeated through no fault of your own. You could have failed to fire on the Maximals... or even fired on your fellow Predacons, in the heat of battle, and blamed it on Primal's little crew. I wouldn't put it past you at all. Can you prove otherwise? Well, can you?"
His accusing gaze swept over the pair, the only Predacons who'd come back from the mission able to walk. Terrorsaur was careful to avoid optic contact. Megatron never took defeat well, and this one had him rattled bad. He was looking, really looking for an outlet, someone to tack the blame on. Logic had little or no bearing on his thinking at times like this. Terrorsaur's record was not exactly stellar, and placed him at the top of the list of favorite punching bags, though Scorponok was slowly catching up. Knowing this -- and not entirely stupid, despite what many of his comrades seemed to believe -- the flier would do almost anything to stave off his commander's anger. Unfortunately, he'd already been singled out, and further pain was likely to follow unless Megatron could be distracted.
Waspinator, bless him, chose that moment to speak up. "Waspinator and Terror-bot shot only Bird-bot. Bird-bot shot Terror-bot, and Optimus shot poor Waspinator--"
"And Scorponok," Terrorsaur added hastily.
"And Tarantulas exploded." Waspinator gave a nod.
Megatron looked back and forth between them, his expression apparently calm. Of course, he had a penchant for erupting in violence without any warning, so Terrorsaur was far from reassured. He would have at least liked to be able to read his boss's mood. "And Inferno?" the tyrant inquired mildly.
Terrorsaur looked at Waspinator. He didn't want to be the one to say it. He'd been knocked around enough for one day.
"Ant-bot was stabbed with sword," the wasp said simply.
Megatron's entire demeanor changed. His optics widened, his posture stiffened, and he stared off over his subordinates' heads as if seeing someone else. "Dinobot," he growled, beastmode creeping into his voice with a low rumble that made the deckplates vibrate. His optics snapped quickly back to Waspinator. "When did he get there? You didn't mention him before."
"Waspinator did not see him. Only found sword sticking out of Ant-bot," the flier maintained steadfastly. His partner envied him his composure. (Then again, Megatron seldom bothered taking out any frustration on Waspinator. The rest of the universe seemed to more than make up for it.)
"And you left it? Why didn't you idiots bring it back to base?"
"We had enough to worry about with dragging the other--" Terrorsaur began. Megatron's fist shot out, and the red flier sprawled backwards, cutting off with a shriek. Ignoring him utterly beyond this offhanded gesture, the tyrant addressed Waspinator.
"Dinobot wouldn't leave a battle unfinished, let alone his sword. Are you certain he was no longer on the field?"
The wasp nodded. Megatron's gaze grew thoughtful, and he seemed to forget for a moment where he was. Waspinator took advantage of that moment to take a step back and shoot a quick glance over at Terrorsaur, who was still sitting on the floor. The pterosaur shrugged as if to say, Don't look at me. I know he's insane; that's why I'm staying right here.
Suddenly Megatron spoke again, causing them both to jump. "Waspinator, Terrorsaur, get yourselves repaired and take over the monitors. Blackarachnia can see to the others. I have matters to attend to outside the base."
"Thanks a lot," muttered the femme, just loudly enough for Megatron to hear. He ignored her, but Terrorsaur made a face in her direction as the tyrant turned away.
"What if Maximals attack?" Leave it to Waspinator to think of the obvious.
Megatron stepped onto a hover platform and transformed. "They have their own wounded to attend to. Never mind them; just try not to blow up the base while I'm gone." As the platform zoomed away, he called out, "And don't let Terrorsaur take over again!"
"That was one time!" Terrorsaur shouted after him, voice cracking hoarsely in indignation.
"Three," Blackarachnia smirked.
He flashed his fangs at her. "You would keep count, you blackmailing bitch. Besides, your record is far from perfect!"
The spider smiled coyly. "But you're so much better at getting caught, Screechy. I'd almost say you were drawing attention to yourself on purpose. Perhaps you like being Megatron's favorite plaything--"
The flier shrieked at earsplitting volume and lunged in her direction. Blackarachnia's launcher was pointed swiftly at his face and he halted, barely a foot away from her, hands extended as if to wrap around her throat. His optics were burning, but even in a rage, he couldn't quite work up the nerve to attack an armed opponent face-to-face. His impotence made him shake while Blackarachnia smirked. "What's wrong, Terrorsaur? You know you want to. You'd love to be the one throwing the punches for once."
Waspinator laid a hand on his shoulder and Terrorsaur spun around, drawing back an arm as if to lay him flat. At the sight of his partner's impassive face, he slowly cooled off. His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped back, shrugging off the hand and looking at Blackarachnia as if she were something he'd found on the underside of a rock. "You'd love it a lot more than I would. Honestly, if you're THAT bored, go annoy Megatron yourself. I'm tired, and I need repairs because, oh yeah, I was actually in a battle today, while some of us got to sit around watching their screens!"
He turned away, meeting Waspinator's optics for a brief instant. "Come on. She likes the monitors so much, she can have them for another megacycle. I feel like slag." The pair exited the command center, Terrorsaur brushing off Waspinator's offers of assistance on the chance that they might still be watched.
"Poor baby," the spider chuckled, leaning back into her seat. No chitin off of her abdomen if they wanted to go and keep themselves busy for awhile. She'd been enjoying the quiet, and with Megatron out for a stroll, it would be even more enjoyable. Add Tarantulas and that nosy ant in CR and it was almost a perfect day.
Out of idle curiosity, she switched to the external cameras and cycled through them. She finally spotted Megatron, at the limit of one camera's vision, striding purposefully away from the lava fields. It looked as if he was headed in the direction of the most recent battle.
Probably gone to pick up Dinobot's sword, if it's still there. Blackarachnia shook her head. She didn't understand her boss's hangups, but truth be told, she didn't really want to. If Megatron decided he had an overpowering need to acquire the traitor's weapon for his trophy collection, let him. Maybe we'll all get lucky and the idiot will get himself slagged.
- - - - -
The sword was gone. That didn't surprise Megatron much. He could see where it had been driven into the soil, and an outline of Inferno's body around it. The ant had left quite a few pieces of himself behind when the others dragged him off, including a whole arm (Now why couldn't they have collected that while they were at it? Idiots) and a torso plate, but there were no signs of other Transformer parts amid the wreckage -- Maximal or Predacon.
Standing in the middle of the devastation, the tyrannosaur turned slowly, surveying the scene with eyes and nostrils. He was missing something, he was sure of it. He had an eighth sense for vital clues and it was tingling strongly at the moment, as it had begun to when Waspinator told him of the sword. He wouldn't leave without answers of some sort.
Gradually, he began to piece together the fight in his mind. The aerial battle had taken place over that small patch of brush, as evidenced by the flattened area where Terrorsaur had crashed and the leaves and twigs sticking out of both fliers' armor joints when they returned. Optimus Primal had been shot down, according to their report, and was facing Scorponok; Megatron had already located their tracks, and a segment of Scorponok's claw left at the scene. Behind him was the tower, where the fliers had found what was left of Tarantulas after the explosion. At his feet lay Inferno, and that meant that Dinobot had been here...
There was one missing. Megatron frowned. There had to have been another player. Dinobot hadn't destroyed the tower. He'd already been over that; the demolition had been carefully rigged, charges set at specific points to ensure that no useable components remained. That meant a specialist... an expert.
The Maximals had only one demolition expert.
Nostrils flaring, the tyrannosaur began to sweep the ground around the remains of the broadcast tower, scanning the debris closely. Here and there burned small fires that had not yet exhausted themselves. It was hard to find tracks that had not been disturbed or buried by the explosion, but Megatron persisted, a hunter on the trail.
He had been ignoring the loud rumbles of thunder above until the first drops of rain began to spatter the soil. Suddenly, within seconds, he was drenched in a heavy downpour. Ran streamed off of his scales and sang against the broken metal girders and support struts. The horizon became hazy, and smells were rapidly dampened as the air became almost liquid. Megatron growled in frustration and the thunder answered back.
Some days the very planet seems to conspire against me! I shall not be put off my search by a little inclement weather, nooo...
Abruptly he halted. Something caught his eye: a hazy white cloud against the hazy gray mist that had begun to form at ground level. Something very hot was cooling rapidly in the rain. Approaching the source of smoke and steam, Megatron found a blackened hollow in the earth. It looked to have been set on fire, deliberately. Considering it was within twenty meters or so of where Inferno had fallen, that wasn't too much of a surprise...
Squinting, Megatron crouched. Looked closer. Scrutinized the patch of charred earth. It was hard to see, as the soil was rapidly darkening in the rain, but there seemed to be a lighter area where the flames had been blocked by something. Something relatively small, too small to be a body. Unless it was a rat's body.
The image clicked suddenly, and Megatron straightened up. Sweeping his head to take in the area from this angle, he finally put the pieces together. Here Rattrap had run after setting off the explosions, probably prematurely, possibly due to Tarantulas's interference. Here he had flattened himself in what he thought was a safe place... and as Megatron looked at the ground on either side, he could see deep impressions that could have belonged to a heavy piece of rubble. Quite possibly that twisted girder lying to one side. So the rat had been pinned, and then Inferno had found him. Then Dinobot had found them both. The ant would never have left his work unless he was attacked by an enemy.
But Dinobot hadn't finished him. Why?
Thoughtfully, Megatron stepped over for a closer look at that girder. It was pretty damaged by the explosion, but one area was dented slightly in a way that he was quite certain had been done by hands. Strong hands, strong enough to lift the girder off of Rattrap...
While his sword was left buried in an enemy's body? An enemy that still lived?
Everything Megatron knew about Dinobot made this seem a ridiculous hypothesis, and yet all the physical evidence pointed to it. Furthermore, if the sword had still been here when he left, he must have been occupied by something else. What could that have been? Something more important than destroying an enemy, something that would make him forget all of his deeply engrained priorities?
The image that now presented itself in Megatron's mind was well beyond ludicrous. He was tempted to dismiss it outright. But, he reluctantly considered, the sword. The rat, here. The handprints on the girder. Primal occupied in battle. Inferno, badly damaged but alive. The sword.
Steadily the rain poured, obliterating the telltale marks in the soil, as Megatron stood playing the improbable scenario in his mind. Dinobot challenging Inferno, defeating him... and then abandoning the fight. Dinobot shifting the heavy wreckage that had trapped his comrade. Dinobot leaving (leaving!) the battlefield, and his weapon, taking the vermin with him. The warrior turning his back on an enemy to rescue the most unlikely of his allies.
This was where the clues led: no answers, just questions more baffling than the ones before. Megatron tried to make sense of it. Perhaps, he reasoned, Primal had ordered Dinobot to retrieve -- but that thought died half-finished. Megatron had been Dinobot's commander for many, many decacycles. He knew full well what the warrior could and could not be ordered to do. No, to do something this improbable, it would have to be entirely of his own oh-so-precious free will.
Part of his strange honor code, then. Or a flash of contrariness; he would not put it past Dinobot to resist the pull of his own nature in a fit of spite. Perhaps he had use for the vermin and could not leave him behind for practical reasons.
Yes, and leaving his sword behind was so VERY practical. None of this makes any sense. Why assume he was behaving rationally at all?
Maybe there was something more going on. This was, after all, a very Maximal thing to do; in fact, had it been any Maximal other than Dinobot, Megatron wouldn't have found the actions odd at all. Considering it was Dinobot, however, one had to surmise that he had a particular reason for doing what he did. If not a practical reason, and if not related to his peculiar code (which would, if anything, never allow him to leave a battle half-finished; Megatron had found that out the hard way), there was no telling what it might be. It had been a while since the tyrant had had the opportunity to study his former lieutenant and get into his head...
In that case, it would be foolish to stand around guessing, wouldn't it? The best way to understand Dinobot was to test him. Megatron could put all this to the test easily enough. If there was some reason the traitor would not let the vermin die, he could find it out for himself, the next time they both showed up on the battlefield.
I will get to the bottom of this, yess. And if, by chance, it turns out Dinobot has developed a new weakness, well... that will be QUITE worth the effort.
Personal mission fulfilled, the tyrant headed back to base as the storm swept over the battlefield, eliminating the traces of struggle left only hours before.
- - - - -
Terrorsaur's life sucked slag. It really did.
"HOW could you fail?" Megatron demanded. "No, really. Explain this to me. Tarantulas built the tower, it was nearly operational, I had five of you clowns guarding it, against what, two or three Maximals -- WHAT WENT WRONG?"
He punctuated the question by slamming the pterodactyl back against a console. Terrorsaur stifled a yelp of pain as the theropod teeth on Megatron's right "hand" punctured the plating on his torso and arm.
"It's not my fault!" he protested, though he knew his voice rasped on Megatron's nerves and that it would probably invite a worse beating. He'd never been able to stop his mouth from flapping when he was nervous. "W-Waspinator and I just got there! It was Tarantulas who let the tower be destroyed, a-and Inferno and Scorponok were supposed to be guarding--" He cut off with a squeak as the jaws squeezed tighter, threatening to crack his exostructure.
"I sent the two of you in to chase off the Maximals! It should have been a simple task even for you. Instead my plans are in pieces, Tarantulas and Inferno are both in repair tanks, and Optimus Primal still lives!" Megatron rapped Terrorsaur's helm with the heavy tail segment on his left hand. "How am I supposed to conquer Cybertron with such incompetent subordinates? My namesake must have had at least one mech in ten who could tell his CPU from his exhaust port, but I seem to lack his fortune!"
He spun, hurling the pterosaur to the deck a few meters away. The flier landed with a noisy clatter, right at the feet of his wingmate. Waspinator's mandibled face was impassive, but anyone watching closely would have seen him flinch, fists clenching tighter at his sides. He couldn't very well intervene on Terrorsaur's behalf, not if he wanted to be intact to help fix him later.
As Megatron turned away again, however, the wasp extended a hand to surreptitiously help his wingmate to his feet. Blackarachnia, sitting at a monitor station off to one side, watched them from a corner of her optic and snorted.
"At times I wonder if it's fortune at all," the Predacon ruler mused aloud to himself. "I certainly can't rule out the possibility that such incompetence is deliberate... especially concerning some." He whirled back around to face the fliers just as Terrorsaur regained his feet. "It would be easy enough to sabotage my plan and then claim that you were defeated through no fault of your own. You could have failed to fire on the Maximals... or even fired on your fellow Predacons, in the heat of battle, and blamed it on Primal's little crew. I wouldn't put it past you at all. Can you prove otherwise? Well, can you?"
His accusing gaze swept over the pair, the only Predacons who'd come back from the mission able to walk. Terrorsaur was careful to avoid optic contact. Megatron never took defeat well, and this one had him rattled bad. He was looking, really looking for an outlet, someone to tack the blame on. Logic had little or no bearing on his thinking at times like this. Terrorsaur's record was not exactly stellar, and placed him at the top of the list of favorite punching bags, though Scorponok was slowly catching up. Knowing this -- and not entirely stupid, despite what many of his comrades seemed to believe -- the flier would do almost anything to stave off his commander's anger. Unfortunately, he'd already been singled out, and further pain was likely to follow unless Megatron could be distracted.
Waspinator, bless him, chose that moment to speak up. "Waspinator and Terror-bot shot only Bird-bot. Bird-bot shot Terror-bot, and Optimus shot poor Waspinator--"
"And Scorponok," Terrorsaur added hastily.
"And Tarantulas exploded." Waspinator gave a nod.
Megatron looked back and forth between them, his expression apparently calm. Of course, he had a penchant for erupting in violence without any warning, so Terrorsaur was far from reassured. He would have at least liked to be able to read his boss's mood. "And Inferno?" the tyrant inquired mildly.
Terrorsaur looked at Waspinator. He didn't want to be the one to say it. He'd been knocked around enough for one day.
"Ant-bot was stabbed with sword," the wasp said simply.
Megatron's entire demeanor changed. His optics widened, his posture stiffened, and he stared off over his subordinates' heads as if seeing someone else. "Dinobot," he growled, beastmode creeping into his voice with a low rumble that made the deckplates vibrate. His optics snapped quickly back to Waspinator. "When did he get there? You didn't mention him before."
"Waspinator did not see him. Only found sword sticking out of Ant-bot," the flier maintained steadfastly. His partner envied him his composure. (Then again, Megatron seldom bothered taking out any frustration on Waspinator. The rest of the universe seemed to more than make up for it.)
"And you left it? Why didn't you idiots bring it back to base?"
"We had enough to worry about with dragging the other--" Terrorsaur began. Megatron's fist shot out, and the red flier sprawled backwards, cutting off with a shriek. Ignoring him utterly beyond this offhanded gesture, the tyrant addressed Waspinator.
"Dinobot wouldn't leave a battle unfinished, let alone his sword. Are you certain he was no longer on the field?"
The wasp nodded. Megatron's gaze grew thoughtful, and he seemed to forget for a moment where he was. Waspinator took advantage of that moment to take a step back and shoot a quick glance over at Terrorsaur, who was still sitting on the floor. The pterosaur shrugged as if to say, Don't look at me. I know he's insane; that's why I'm staying right here.
Suddenly Megatron spoke again, causing them both to jump. "Waspinator, Terrorsaur, get yourselves repaired and take over the monitors. Blackarachnia can see to the others. I have matters to attend to outside the base."
"Thanks a lot," muttered the femme, just loudly enough for Megatron to hear. He ignored her, but Terrorsaur made a face in her direction as the tyrant turned away.
"What if Maximals attack?" Leave it to Waspinator to think of the obvious.
Megatron stepped onto a hover platform and transformed. "They have their own wounded to attend to. Never mind them; just try not to blow up the base while I'm gone." As the platform zoomed away, he called out, "And don't let Terrorsaur take over again!"
"That was one time!" Terrorsaur shouted after him, voice cracking hoarsely in indignation.
"Three," Blackarachnia smirked.
He flashed his fangs at her. "You would keep count, you blackmailing bitch. Besides, your record is far from perfect!"
The spider smiled coyly. "But you're so much better at getting caught, Screechy. I'd almost say you were drawing attention to yourself on purpose. Perhaps you like being Megatron's favorite plaything--"
The flier shrieked at earsplitting volume and lunged in her direction. Blackarachnia's launcher was pointed swiftly at his face and he halted, barely a foot away from her, hands extended as if to wrap around her throat. His optics were burning, but even in a rage, he couldn't quite work up the nerve to attack an armed opponent face-to-face. His impotence made him shake while Blackarachnia smirked. "What's wrong, Terrorsaur? You know you want to. You'd love to be the one throwing the punches for once."
Waspinator laid a hand on his shoulder and Terrorsaur spun around, drawing back an arm as if to lay him flat. At the sight of his partner's impassive face, he slowly cooled off. His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped back, shrugging off the hand and looking at Blackarachnia as if she were something he'd found on the underside of a rock. "You'd love it a lot more than I would. Honestly, if you're THAT bored, go annoy Megatron yourself. I'm tired, and I need repairs because, oh yeah, I was actually in a battle today, while some of us got to sit around watching their screens!"
He turned away, meeting Waspinator's optics for a brief instant. "Come on. She likes the monitors so much, she can have them for another megacycle. I feel like slag." The pair exited the command center, Terrorsaur brushing off Waspinator's offers of assistance on the chance that they might still be watched.
"Poor baby," the spider chuckled, leaning back into her seat. No chitin off of her abdomen if they wanted to go and keep themselves busy for awhile. She'd been enjoying the quiet, and with Megatron out for a stroll, it would be even more enjoyable. Add Tarantulas and that nosy ant in CR and it was almost a perfect day.
Out of idle curiosity, she switched to the external cameras and cycled through them. She finally spotted Megatron, at the limit of one camera's vision, striding purposefully away from the lava fields. It looked as if he was headed in the direction of the most recent battle.
Probably gone to pick up Dinobot's sword, if it's still there. Blackarachnia shook her head. She didn't understand her boss's hangups, but truth be told, she didn't really want to. If Megatron decided he had an overpowering need to acquire the traitor's weapon for his trophy collection, let him. Maybe we'll all get lucky and the idiot will get himself slagged.
- - - - -
The sword was gone. That didn't surprise Megatron much. He could see where it had been driven into the soil, and an outline of Inferno's body around it. The ant had left quite a few pieces of himself behind when the others dragged him off, including a whole arm (Now why couldn't they have collected that while they were at it? Idiots) and a torso plate, but there were no signs of other Transformer parts amid the wreckage -- Maximal or Predacon.
Standing in the middle of the devastation, the tyrannosaur turned slowly, surveying the scene with eyes and nostrils. He was missing something, he was sure of it. He had an eighth sense for vital clues and it was tingling strongly at the moment, as it had begun to when Waspinator told him of the sword. He wouldn't leave without answers of some sort.
Gradually, he began to piece together the fight in his mind. The aerial battle had taken place over that small patch of brush, as evidenced by the flattened area where Terrorsaur had crashed and the leaves and twigs sticking out of both fliers' armor joints when they returned. Optimus Primal had been shot down, according to their report, and was facing Scorponok; Megatron had already located their tracks, and a segment of Scorponok's claw left at the scene. Behind him was the tower, where the fliers had found what was left of Tarantulas after the explosion. At his feet lay Inferno, and that meant that Dinobot had been here...
There was one missing. Megatron frowned. There had to have been another player. Dinobot hadn't destroyed the tower. He'd already been over that; the demolition had been carefully rigged, charges set at specific points to ensure that no useable components remained. That meant a specialist... an expert.
The Maximals had only one demolition expert.
Nostrils flaring, the tyrannosaur began to sweep the ground around the remains of the broadcast tower, scanning the debris closely. Here and there burned small fires that had not yet exhausted themselves. It was hard to find tracks that had not been disturbed or buried by the explosion, but Megatron persisted, a hunter on the trail.
He had been ignoring the loud rumbles of thunder above until the first drops of rain began to spatter the soil. Suddenly, within seconds, he was drenched in a heavy downpour. Ran streamed off of his scales and sang against the broken metal girders and support struts. The horizon became hazy, and smells were rapidly dampened as the air became almost liquid. Megatron growled in frustration and the thunder answered back.
Some days the very planet seems to conspire against me! I shall not be put off my search by a little inclement weather, nooo...
Abruptly he halted. Something caught his eye: a hazy white cloud against the hazy gray mist that had begun to form at ground level. Something very hot was cooling rapidly in the rain. Approaching the source of smoke and steam, Megatron found a blackened hollow in the earth. It looked to have been set on fire, deliberately. Considering it was within twenty meters or so of where Inferno had fallen, that wasn't too much of a surprise...
Squinting, Megatron crouched. Looked closer. Scrutinized the patch of charred earth. It was hard to see, as the soil was rapidly darkening in the rain, but there seemed to be a lighter area where the flames had been blocked by something. Something relatively small, too small to be a body. Unless it was a rat's body.
The image clicked suddenly, and Megatron straightened up. Sweeping his head to take in the area from this angle, he finally put the pieces together. Here Rattrap had run after setting off the explosions, probably prematurely, possibly due to Tarantulas's interference. Here he had flattened himself in what he thought was a safe place... and as Megatron looked at the ground on either side, he could see deep impressions that could have belonged to a heavy piece of rubble. Quite possibly that twisted girder lying to one side. So the rat had been pinned, and then Inferno had found him. Then Dinobot had found them both. The ant would never have left his work unless he was attacked by an enemy.
But Dinobot hadn't finished him. Why?
Thoughtfully, Megatron stepped over for a closer look at that girder. It was pretty damaged by the explosion, but one area was dented slightly in a way that he was quite certain had been done by hands. Strong hands, strong enough to lift the girder off of Rattrap...
While his sword was left buried in an enemy's body? An enemy that still lived?
Everything Megatron knew about Dinobot made this seem a ridiculous hypothesis, and yet all the physical evidence pointed to it. Furthermore, if the sword had still been here when he left, he must have been occupied by something else. What could that have been? Something more important than destroying an enemy, something that would make him forget all of his deeply engrained priorities?
The image that now presented itself in Megatron's mind was well beyond ludicrous. He was tempted to dismiss it outright. But, he reluctantly considered, the sword. The rat, here. The handprints on the girder. Primal occupied in battle. Inferno, badly damaged but alive. The sword.
Steadily the rain poured, obliterating the telltale marks in the soil, as Megatron stood playing the improbable scenario in his mind. Dinobot challenging Inferno, defeating him... and then abandoning the fight. Dinobot shifting the heavy wreckage that had trapped his comrade. Dinobot leaving (leaving!) the battlefield, and his weapon, taking the vermin with him. The warrior turning his back on an enemy to rescue the most unlikely of his allies.
This was where the clues led: no answers, just questions more baffling than the ones before. Megatron tried to make sense of it. Perhaps, he reasoned, Primal had ordered Dinobot to retrieve -- but that thought died half-finished. Megatron had been Dinobot's commander for many, many decacycles. He knew full well what the warrior could and could not be ordered to do. No, to do something this improbable, it would have to be entirely of his own oh-so-precious free will.
Part of his strange honor code, then. Or a flash of contrariness; he would not put it past Dinobot to resist the pull of his own nature in a fit of spite. Perhaps he had use for the vermin and could not leave him behind for practical reasons.
Yes, and leaving his sword behind was so VERY practical. None of this makes any sense. Why assume he was behaving rationally at all?
Maybe there was something more going on. This was, after all, a very Maximal thing to do; in fact, had it been any Maximal other than Dinobot, Megatron wouldn't have found the actions odd at all. Considering it was Dinobot, however, one had to surmise that he had a particular reason for doing what he did. If not a practical reason, and if not related to his peculiar code (which would, if anything, never allow him to leave a battle half-finished; Megatron had found that out the hard way), there was no telling what it might be. It had been a while since the tyrant had had the opportunity to study his former lieutenant and get into his head...
In that case, it would be foolish to stand around guessing, wouldn't it? The best way to understand Dinobot was to test him. Megatron could put all this to the test easily enough. If there was some reason the traitor would not let the vermin die, he could find it out for himself, the next time they both showed up on the battlefield.
I will get to the bottom of this, yess. And if, by chance, it turns out Dinobot has developed a new weakness, well... that will be QUITE worth the effort.
Personal mission fulfilled, the tyrant headed back to base as the storm swept over the battlefield, eliminating the traces of struggle left only hours before.