The R-chamber opened with a whir and a hiss, and Cheetor's optics snapped open. Finished, repaired, and, no one ahead. No one at the console...
"Cheetor."
Oh, no. Here it was. Fire and fear leaped in the pit of the Maximal's stomach. He stepped out once, cautiously, and to his left, facing the source of the voice. Heavy shields on the R-Chamber not withstanding, how a twenty-foot gorilla could manage to stand in his blind spot Cheetor would never know. Optimus was hunched on his knuckles, as the lower ceiling was a bit uncomfortable. Optimus looked, however, as if more than the ceiling was bothering him.
"Bigbot, I, I can..."
Cheetor started; where had THAT come from? Focus, cat. You're a commander, equal rank, equal footing. No panic...just calm.
Cheetor shifted his weight, crossed his arms. The change in stance was more than notable. His voice grew cold. "I guess you heard the news."
"I have." Seeing that Cheetor was not volunteering any more, Optimus continued. "I'm disappointed. I'm SHOCKED, and I'm disappointed."
"Well at least I managed to shock you."
"Don't affect an attitude with me; I am TRYING to speak rationally with you. Before I decide what to DO about you, I want to hear your side of the story."
"Big of you," Cheetor snapped, a reminder to himself, nonetheless, of Optimus's comparative stature. Being rude wasn't helping his cause, and he knew it, but he was upset. "How much do you know already?"
"I know enough."
"About Tripredicus? Your pal Darkwave tell you THAT part, too?"
"Cheetor..."
"The guy's a DECEPTICON! I don't trust him."
"Oh, but you trust Unicron; that's who you trust?"
"It's not LIKE that!" Cheetor shouted, with a hint of a roar. He took a breath, drew back. Flying into a rage again was not going to help, either. "Tripredicus has...download agents, maybe telepaths. I didn't know I knew what I knew. They must have found out later. Maybe after Blackarachnia got HER cut, who knows? The agents were... They didn't want me to stand trial. Thought I knew too much. Offered me a ship for silence. I--I was an impressionable kid, still, okay, I took the bait. It was basically that, or the OTHER option for a permanent vacation. And, COINCIDENTALLY, Predacon groups have been trying to off me ever since. But I still think I do more here than I could have, there. Hold off the civil war a few more decades, and as long as Megatron's still locked up..." He looked away. "That's not good enough for you, is it, Optimus?"
Optimus sighed, his heavy upper body rolling forward with the motion. "Are you going to stand trial NOW?"
Cheetor looked his old mentor in the eyes once more. "Optimus, they'll have me killed for SURE."
"We can see to it that doesn't happen. It just puzzles me why you NEVER told me about this BEFORE."
"I was going to, I swear! But, there was the Covenant, and the Nemesis, and… Optimus, I SAW the aliens."
"What?"
"It wasn't Tigerhawk that killed Tarantulas; it was the aliens. They're like glowing faces, and... And I've spent thirty years trying to FORGET that sight! I didn't WANT to think about it; you can't understand unless you see them." He clenched his fist, trying desperately to find words for the experience. "They're… and it's like... It's like we're all CONNECTED, somehow. I can't close my eyes anymore; I still SEE them. Ask Thundercat, now; maybe he's seen them, too." A pause. "Optimus, I'm sorry. Tarantulas, what he said before he died was that Tripredicus had 'other origins.' Of COURSE he meant Unicron but that didn't mean I didn't try to rationalize it. Try to make something else out of it. But once I had the real proof..."
"Cheetor, you don't have to apologize to me. There's an entire planet you owe an apology." His eyes lowered briefly, then he looked into Cheetor's again. "For now, I'm stripping you of your rank. You're to accompany us back to Cybertron, and both you, and Blackarachnia, are going to speak before the Maximal Council."
Cheetor looked at the floor as he spoke. "Understood."
"Should I, or will YOU, inform your crew?"
"You can tell 'em." Cheetor turned, sullenly, to the hall, heading for the far elevator and commander's quarters. It wasn't his rank, but it was still his room. For a moment he felt, as he hadn't in a long time, his old role returning: the foolish, scolded youth, going to his room to play with his toys. Bigger room, bigger toys, same situation. Fate had a way of catching up with him, even when he ran from it at light speed. "I was destined to disappoint an Optimus," he muttered, as the elevator whirred to life. "Figured I might as well do it RIGHT."