"This is all your fault, vermin," Dinobot informed him loftily.
"My fault? How is this my fault?" Rattrap sputtered, his naked tail lashing out from his hind end. "You're the one who chased me in here in the first place!" In beast mode, an enraged Rattrap could only look comical - quivering whiskers, glinting nose, lips pulled back to display his buckteeth to their fullest.
"And you are the one who couldn't keep your filthy mouth off of my origins!" In robot mode, Dinobot with his teeth bared looked almost as comical - it was a habit he really shouldn't have picked up from his saurian DNA. "The smallest self-restraint on your part - "
"Yeah, well, if you weren't such a slag-suckin' - "
"Cheese-eating - "
"Scalebellied - "
"Odorous - "
"Humorless - "
"Disease-ridden - "
"RHINOX!" At the end of his rope, Rattrap whirled and banged his little rodentine fists against the locked door. "Lemme OUTTA here!" Wherever Rhinox was, he was evidently not within hearing distance of Cargo Bay Two; Rattrap's cries went unheeded. "Slaggin - Of all the Preds to get stuck in a closet with, why'd I have to get you?"
Dinobot sneered. "I consider it my own ill fate, vermin." Then, because he would not give Rattrap the satisfaction of seeing him go ape-slag postal with his own desperation to escape, he transformed and curled up nose-to-tail in a corner.
Rattrap scoffed, but otherwise could not think of anything suitably scathing to say. A few moments passed in prickly, unsatisfying silence.
“Yo, Chopperface.”
“Hrrrn.”
The growl could have meant anything from “what do you want now” to “I’m about two nanoclicks away from biting your head off;” Rattrap chose to interpret it as the former. “I been wonderin’ - how’d you hook up with Megatron anyway?”
One reptilian eye snapped open. “You’ve suddenly developed an interest in my personal history?”
Rattrap scoffed. “'Ey, maybe I could ask this box for its life story. Or how ‘bout this pair of energon tongs? I’m sure they got lots to say - “
“By the Pit, you are the most obnoxious creature I have ever known.” Dinobot stretched and rolled languidly to what passed for a sitting position among his species - more of a relaxed crouch. “I am tempted to answer your question on the off chance it may get you to shut up, but the fact is that my association with Megatron - or lack thereof - is none of your business.”
“Slag it ain’t.” Rattrap razzed Dinobot and returned to his survey of the room. “Awright, how ‘bout this: where’d the sword come from? Ain’t standard issue, y’know.”
“Optimus Primal has similar weapons,” Dinobot pointed out.
“Yeah, but I know where those came from.”
“Swords are not uncommon among warriors.” Dinobot said warriors with a slight sneer in his voice, as if to exclude Rattrap from that category.
“Tell me something I don’t know, fang face.” Rattrap matched his sneer. “Said they ain’t standard. Boss monkey got his from some sorta special training gig; he’s got a license to carry ‘em. Do you got a license?”
“Were you a member of the weapons board, would you give me one?”
“Point one fer Chopperface.” Rattrap shrugged.
Dinobot drew in a smug breath. “The sword is part of my original design. To remove it would mean I would have to be rebuilt. And I do have a license.”
“You do? Lemme see.”
“No.” Dinobot’s saurian eyes closed.
Rattrap made a ‘tsk-tsk’ noise, which to Dinobot’s aural processor just sounded like more rodentine chittering. “Cybertronian law says no license, no sword.”
“Try to take it from me, then,” Dinobot growled.
“No thanks.”
Dinobot grunted smugly and curled up on his belly again. "Turnabout, vermin. Tell me how you acquired that photon pistol of yours."
Despite the way it was phrased, Rattrap knew that Dinobot was making a request, not issuing a command; he still felt like being difficult. "Uh-uh, lizard-lips. What's the magic word?"
Dinobot glared. "Mouse, you are currently trapped in a rather small cargo bay with someone whose instinct is to eat animals like you, and until someone notices we are missing there is little chance of rescue. Do you really want to bait me?"
"Uh." Rattrap wasn't used to his perennial adversary making sense. "Okay, point two. But I'm only goin' into the short version."
"That suits me very well."
"Fine." Rattrap settled himself. "The pistol itself is standard - everyone who passed the marksmanship program at the Academy up until a few vorns ago got one."
Dinobot blinked. "That's it?"
"Patience, Dino-butt." Rattrap paused to collect his thoughts. "Used to be an energon miner before I got bored with it, but I didn’t have nothin' in the way of useful skills besides blowin' stuff up when I joined the Maximal Explorers - and them bein' a peace-lovin' bunch o' nutbags, they weren't much impressed by that."
"So they thought to make you more useful by putting you through a marksmanship program." Dinobot sighed. "Understandable, if doomed to failure."
"'Ey!" Rattrap shot Dinobot a disgusted glare. "For your information, Dino-boob, they wanted to use my mining background ta shoehorn me into bein' a geologist." He grinned. "But I flunked outta the program… and three others besides."
"And yet you are still in the organization?" Dinobot's head shot up. "Are the Maximal Elders so desperate for recruits?"
"Don't get any ideas. Rattrap, maximize!" Rattrap transformed and loomed over his adversary the best he could. "This ain't a fact-findin' mission for your Predacon Council, y'know."
"It's 'Tripredacus Council,' vermin, and you say that as if I could expect to glean anything useful from you."
Mollified, Rattrap continued. "For your information, Dino-butt, at the same time I was flunking outta the academics, I was takin' a beginnin' marksmanship program, and, ehh, let's just say I showed promise." He grinned. "I worked out a deal with my instructor and shifted my focus to more martial pursuits, and here I am, the heroic explorer you see before you." He posed, fists on hips, in what he clearly thought was a classic 'hero' stance.
"Hmph. Unimpressive," Dinobot groused.
"Watch dat flappin' jaw of yours, Chopperface." Rattrap glared good-naturedly. "At least my story was more interesting than yours was."
"Well, longer, certainly." Dinobot stretched. "Besides, mine was not a story - more of a brief explanation."
"So? Tell me a story."
Dinobot sneered. "Why should I, vermin?"
"'Cause I told you one."
The simple statement, devoid of challenge or derision, brought Dinobot's head up. Rattrap's face was carefully neutral - the kind of expression he wore around Optimus Primal when he was trying to get away with murder. It never worked on Primal. Perhaps in some ways I am more foolish than he.
"Hrr… very well. When I first came online, the sword I carried was of - " he made a face - "Maximal manufacture, similar to the swords Optimus Primal now carries. My creator did not have access to more appropriate materials, so as soon as I was reasonably articulate I was forced to seek out a more suitable weapon for myself."
"The one you carry now?"
"No. My first acquisition was… well, let us say I was dazzled by style over substance at the time." He shrugged. "It was well enough for my purposes, but as time went on I found I had need of a more durable weapon."
"Aw, you as a lil' neophyte. That’s almost sweet."
"I was never little, vermin, at least by your standards." Dinobot sniffed. "Unfortunately, the only way for an enterprising Predacon to obtain a quality blade at the time was to challenge someone who actually had such a thing to mortal combat. It took me nearly half a vorn to find a sword that met my personal specifications, to say nothing of my creator's. Unfortunately, said weapon was in the hands of a famous Unicronian gladiator." His face broke into a toothy grin. "The odds, as I recall, came out at two hundred and fifty to one against me. I made two or three gamblers very rich that day."
"Wait, wait, wait." Rattrap waved his hands. "You against a Unicronian? How long ago was this?"
Dinobot named a date, and Rattrap's optics went wide as saucers. "You - you - you sonova glitch! That was you? You lost me five hundred shanix, you slagger!"
Dinobot chortled. "Serves you right for betting against me, fur face."
Rattrap was fairly shaking with fury, gesturing inarticulately and working his jaw. "I was gonna take a chickbot out on the town with dat money, fossil brain!"
"Hrmm, then it seems I performed a valuable service to the community, garbage eater!"
"You scale-bellied walnut-head!"
"Plague-carrying cheese addict!"
"Trigger-happy leatherbag!"
"Uncultured guttersnipe!"
"Yer mother was a blow-dryer!"
"Why you - " Dinobot lunged. Rattrap danced away, maddeningly nimble, and razzed his larger attacker. "Can't catch me, Chopperface!"
"Vermin!" Dinobot gouged his claws into a nearby crate and hauled himself up. "Face me like a warrior!"
"Bite me!"
Dinobot's neck snapped out, jaws distended -
"EEEYOW!" Rattrap's hands gripped Dinobot's muzzle. "Get offa my shoulder, you lunatic!"
Dinobot's only answer was a growl as he dragged Rattrap onto the crate with him. The storage unit creaked under their combined weight but held as Dinobot hooked his claws under Rattrap's elbows and weathered his rival's scrabbling at his face. "Yield, rodent," he growled, and the words were garbled by the interference of Rattrap's shoulder, but the meaning behind them was readily apparent.
"Not on yer life, Chopperface!" Rattrap gritted his teeth; in this position he was effectively helpless, but be slagged if he was gonna - "Aaah, Dinobot!"
Dinobot grinned around his mouthful. "That was the first time you've ever used my proper name, vermin."
Rattrap hadn't realized that Dinobot had let go until he spoke. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it, scalebelly - " He rolled back, ignoring his shoulder's protestations, and hooked his legs around Dinobot's neck. The warrior had time only for one undignified "Erp?" before Rattrap brought his weight to bear, sending them both crashing to the ground.
"Treacherous mouse! Dinobot, maxi- " Rattrap clamped an arm around his muzzle, preventing him from completing the transformation command. "RRRMPH!" he burst out instead. Thrashing, he managed to break free of his rival's grip and roll to his feet. "Maximize!" he snarled, and didn't even wait until his parts were all locked in place before he sprang at Rattrap. "Vermin - "
Rattrap met him in midair, clenched his hands around the back of his neck. They landed as one with Dinobot on top. "Lizard-lips," Rattrap squeaked, his internals constricted by Dinobot's weight. His convulsing hands found the access latches on Dinobot's back and lifted them.
"Foul rodent," Dinobot countered, his optics flaring green as twin output tubes uncoiled from within his dorsal grill structure in a hiss of hot steam. Rattrap grabbed one and reached for his own port cover on his hip, but Dinobot beat him to the punch.
"Slaggin' saurian," Rattrap muttered, groping for Dinobot's other output tube as the ex-Predacon's nails hooked under Rattrap's access latch. "Slaggin' slag-suckin - awp!"
Dinobot had taken the initiative and latched his own plug into Rattrap's input port. As the first surge of battling energies crested and receded, Dinobot took advantage of Rattrap's momentary insensibility to hook in his other plug.
The next wave hit them both like a meteor, and Dinobot collapsed against Rattrap. "Vermin," he gasped out. "Rattrap."
"Chopperface!"
"Rhinox, where are Dinobot and Rattrap?"
Rhinox looked up from his radar screen, wide-eyed. "Why do you ask?"
Optimus rubbed his head sleepily. "I just realized why the base is so quiet today. Were they scheduled for patrol?"
"Nope." Rhinox turned back to the console. "They're in the base."
"In the base?"
"Yup."
"In this base?"
"Yup."
Optimus frowned. "Then why is it so quiet?"
Rhinox didn't answer. A moment later a squeal - not of pleasure or pain, but a purely animal noise - filled the air, robbed of volume by distance but still sharp enough to nearly overload the Maximal commander's audials. He winced; Rhinox didn't.
"Rattrap and Dinobot," the bigger Maximal said after a moment, "are working out their differences."
Optimus stood still for a moment, digesting this new information. Then he burst out laughing.
Every time Rattrap tried to gather his wits enough to launch a counter-assault, another pulse of Dinobot's energy scattered them again. "Slow down, slaggit," he snapped at his nemesis.
"Beg me to, rodent," Dinobot laughed, condensation beginning to collect on his face.
Rattrap swatted it off, his palms hitting the sides of Dinobot's cranial unit like a crash of cymbals. "Slag you." His fingers reached around and twined themselves together at the back of Dinobot's neck, forcing his head down. Dinobot growled and mouthed the tiny chink where Rattrap's neck met his collar, scraping at the edges meaningfully with his teeth.
"I could rip out your main fuel line right now," he growled as Rattrap gasped and arched into him. "You wouldn't even have time to scream, vermin."
"Heh... dream on, Chopperface..." Rattrap panted, hands creeping slowly over his waist. "Dream - on - "
Dinobot bit down, hard enough to hurt, and Rattrap's hands flexed away. "Slag you," he snarled again, and grasped at his waist again, dangerously close to the sensitive joining of hip and thigh. Dinobot grunted and pulled back - all the opening Rattrap needed. Quick as lightning he yanked his own output plug from his spine and shoved it into the input port he'd discovered in his rival's lower torso.
Dinobot screeched, brought past the ability to articulate by the sudden invasion of Rattrap's metal and energy. "Gotcha," Rattrap hissed, then his optics and vocalizer fritzed as the next energy pulse crashed over them both.
Cheetor sat bolt upright. "Did you hear that?"
Tigatron rolled lazily to look up at his spotted protege. "Hear what?"
"That." Cheetor stood on all fours, tail twitching. "Listen - there it is again! Do you hear?"
Tigatron closed his slitted eyes and let the wind carry the sound. "Hmm... yes, I think so."
"It sounds like - " Cheetor strained to catch more of the sound as Tigatron idly contemplated pouncing that switching tail. "Like someone in trouble! C'mon, big cat, let's go!"
"Calm yourself, little cat." Tigatron contented himself with a halfhearted, claws-in swipe at a passing butterfly. "That is not a cry of pain."
Cheetor's eagerness turned to confusion as effortlessly as the flick of a switch. He glanced back at Tigatron, furred brow wrinkled. "So what is it?"
Tigatron sighed. "I take it Optimus Primal hasn't yet had The Talk with you…"
"What," Dinobot growled in Rattrap's face, "do you. Think. You're. DOING?"
"Payback," Rattrap wheezed, grinning. "And I still owe you one more."
"Like the PIT you will, vermin - " Dinobot gripped the offending tube snaking its way into his innards as if he meant to yank it out, but a fresh wave of energy sapped the strength from his joints and he collapsed into his rival. "No one invades me," he snarled into Rattrap's face. "Least of all a simpering rodent - "
"Chopperface?"
"What?"
"Shut. Up." Rattrap surged up and bit Dinobot's shoulder brace with a savagery that surprised the ex-Predacon. He screeched and shoved the rat back down, cracking his cranium against the floor. Rattrap's answering scream lanced through his audials, then two stars exploded in his head as lightning energy skewered his joints.
Dinobot sank back on his knees, gasping, letting Rattrap prop himself up and turn to the side. "When did..." he choked out, gripping the second of Rattrap's plugs in his torso.
Rattrap looked over his shoulder mock-coquettishly, then grinned. "You're so busy congratulating yourself for being on top, you don't even notice when I take you from underneath - Dino-butt."
"Why you - " Dinobot gripped his shoulders and flipped him over, ignoring the bite of pain from plugs unwilling to release their moorings. Rattrap squawked, giving his own pain its due, then was shoved facefirst into the floor as Dinobot roared into his audial. He twisted, lashing out behind him, but Dinobot gripped Rattrap's flailing arm and hitched it up behind his back. "Quit struggling, vermin," Dinobot snarled.
"I don' think ya mean that," Rattrap laughed into the floor. Rather than deign to answer that, Dinobot cranked the pressure on his arm, making the rat squeal in sudden pain. "Chopperface!" Rattrap cried in sudden alarm.
"Cry mercy, rodent!" Dinobot roared, bearing down with pressure and energy.
Rattrap twisted. "Never!" His arm slipped around Dinobot's bent neck and held. Dinobot growled, but bore the extra weight as Rattrap clung, his defiant chatter giving way to subvocalized oaths. Dinobot was built a warrior and a Predacon to boot, of course his energy tolerances were higher, but be slagged if Rattrap was going to give an inch. He shifted, yanking himself up on Dinobot's neck, trying to relieve some of the pressure in his torso where he kept his primary generators.
Dinobot laughed, a hoarse sound like a minor avalanche. "Hurts, doesn't it, vermin?"
"Dunno what you're talkin' about," Rattrap said acidly. "You couldn't blow a capacitator if - "
"Clearly the problem lies with your poorly-wired - "
"Eh, blow it out your exhaust, you - "
By this time, Rattrap had managed to roll over and face his rival again, and Dinobot leaned over him, bracing himself with one clawed hand against the wall. His other hand gripped Rattrap's shoulder, pinning the Maximal in place, his claws not quite piercing the armor plate. Between their torsos, visible energy arced and danced, dispelling the shadows between and around them for bare, flickering moments. Forgetting for the moment to continue his stream of invective, Rattrap let his head drop back, exposing his throat to Dinobot again.
"I am going to destroy you, vermin," Dinobot murmured, bending to accept what Rattrap offered.
"Yeah, I know," Rattrap laughed, reaching up to grab Dinobot's head again and force him closer. "Once a Pred, always a Pred." Dinobot's wicked-sharp teeth pierced his armor at last and he screeched, spraying energy and foul language in all directions.
"Holy slag!" Scorponok rocked back and ripped the audio jack from his head. "Megatron, the Maximal base - "
Megatron was there, leaning over Scorponok with one hand on the console. "What is it?"
Wordlessly, Scorponok offered him the audio jack. Plugging himself in, Megatron switched the display to a visual representation of what he was hearing. Scorponok's pincer's twitched - like all techs, he hated it when someone messed with his settings - but Megatron seemed not to notice and Scorponok bore it without complaint.
Seconds passed, and then Megatron's frown deepened in recognition. Scorponok craned his head to watch the visual display, wondering what his commander saw.
Three pulses later, he got it. "They're - ? Dinobot? And - " He squinted. "The rat?" He shook his head, trying to banish the surreal images, and glanced up at Megatron to gauge his reaction.
Megatron sighed and unhooked the audio jack. "Well," he pronounced, "it's about time."