By: Sinead
The bot leapt up, optics dashing madly around his quiet quarters. �Who enters?�
{I never came. I never left. I will leave, and yet, I will not.}
The bot thought over these words. �You speak through my mind.�
{Negative. Your Spark.}
The thought of his half-Spark enraged the bot. And he finally recalled that voice. It was his own, but it was different . . . more clear, as if it were not hindered by a vocal circuit that was designed to speak as so. �Who are you to do such a thing?!�
The voice didn�t answer the question. {Why do you rebel?}
�I am programmed to be loyal to Megatron! He is my commander, and he created me, therefore my master. I am not rebelling.�
{I will ask again: Why do you rebel?}
�What do I rebel?!�
{Truth.}
�What?!�
His roar was heard, and Rampage�s voice erupted within his Spark, harshly, crudely, without quarter or thought for his comfort. [What, are you whimpering in your sleep? Poor baby. Stop yelling.]
The half-Spark within his chest immediately leapt forth, and the bot was about to squeeze it within his talons, to punish the other, when the first voice said in a reproachful voice, {Is this honorable?}
The clone stopped, and looked within himself, thinking, wondering, who this voice could be. He released the Spark, and sat on the side of his metal bed, then looked up at a sheet of polished metal. In it, he saw a mismatched Transmetal Two monster. His hand went up to touch the side of his face, as if touch would make the nightmare fly away. A millimeter away from the skin, he drew his hand away, looking at the talons that formulated his hand for tearing and killing, not for . . .
Not for grasping a sword.
He looked up at his reflection again. Where had that come from? What did it mean? A sword? Him? The thought was strange. Why would he want a sword?
{That thought came from me.}
�Who are you?� came the whisper. �Why torment me so?�
{I am . . . I�m you . . . yet not you. I am of the past . . . the past that you do not possess, yet were once a part of. I do not torment you. You only do not understand me for why I am here.}
�Why are you here, then?� came the whisper of a scared child. For the clone was indeed a child. He did not know many things, and yet, so much was expected of him. His voice and structure suggested he was over the equivalent of twenty-five, or thirty Earth years. Yet he was still learning about the world he was on, about who the others were, about himself.
The voice seemed to hear his distress, and snorted. {Scared? Well? Are you?}
�You are asking if I fear you.�
The voice barked a laugh, and said sarcastically, {No, really? Answer my question, clone.}
�Perhaps. What would it mean to you?�
{It means, clone, that you are a fool. I am but a voice; how can I hurt you? I can only speak, I cannot act, cannot speak through your mouth for you.}
�Yet you speak in my Spark.�
{Hah! Your Spark? That pathetic excuse for a life-source? Feh. Bah! You are but merely a tool! A weapon fitted for Megatron�s hand only!}
�I. Am. Not.�
{Prove it. When have you made a decision on your own, without gaining permission?}
The clone said nothing, as he continued to look at his mismatched face, the puzzle of organic and cybernetic. One normal optic stared back in confusion, while the tube-like other stared in return coldly. He lowered his gaze, and shook his head.
The voice was less harsh, this time. {How long have you been activated? Three weeks? Four?}
�Twenty-seven days.�
{Only? You�ve taken enough orders to make me retch within that time.}
The clone looked at his hands again. �Then what am I to do?�
{Remember this, and when the time is right . . . remember.}
�What are you?�
{A memory . . .}
The Nemesis was falling. Optimus had Megatron, and he turned to face Dinobot, the clone . . . who wasn�t a clone. �Dinobot! Save yourself!�
Within the newly-restored Spark, the voice was once one with his personality, the clone, Dinobot sighed, content with his fate. He smiled one last time, as he heard the Nemesis starting to explode. His one normal optic was peaceful, Optimus saw, as Dinobot replied, �Farewell, Optimus Primal.�
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