Chapter Text
"Swing there— yes, fast..." Swoosh. The blade of the sword clanged against the test hologram's sword. "And now the finishing move..."
Whipsaw's sword twisted, in a few clunky movements she managed to disarm the holographic bot, its digital haze sputtering as the program marked the end of a successful training session. Whipsaw smiled to herself, sheathing her sword into her back. She left, ignoring the boring numbers and text on the training program's display, flashing the name "Patient Paladin" as she sprinted away; hurrying over to see her Maximal father. He was standing beside the door for the combat training quarters.
"Was that good?" She asked, giddy to see his reaction.
Depthcharge's helm fins fluttered as he tiled his head. "Decent. Much better than last week's session."
His voice was as monotone as ever, maybe even bored. Whipsaw didn't notice, she was ecstatic to receive his feedback.
He sighed. Turned towards the door, ready to go to his personal quarters and recharge for the night.
A small servo around his wrist held him back.
"Can we keep practicing more? I want to learn all your techniques!"
He was taken aback. He took a second to respond.
"Didn't you read it was the last technique on the program?"
“Ummm...no, but there must be something else you can teach me! I've seen how you wield your trident, it's always so cool! I want to be as good as you!"
He narrowed his optics. Unclear what to say to that... Compliment? Adulation?
"Tridents aren't the same things as swords, for one.
Two; during the Academy I only took an optative class on 'Close Range Sword Combat'. I never specialized in sword fighting."
He sighed that last part out, almost talking to himself.
"There's nothing else I can teach you. Maybe just... try to perfect your posture"
Whipsaw was visibly disappointed, her smile dropped. Still she held onto her father's hand. The soldier kept looking down at the small bitlet holding onto him. A weird feeling in his chest.
He let go from her and walked out, waiting for her in the hallway.
Behind him, Whipsaw silently tried to follow his stride.
Days passed from that last practice session with Depthcharge.
He'd gone on to disappear for cycles at a time, doing Primus knows what in the wilderness. It wasn't uncommon for him, everyone was used to his radio silence.
Unfortunately for the Maximal crew, it meant a bitlet still needing full-time guidance from its progenitors was left behind for them to manage.
The team eventually found a system that worked for them: each cycle without sign of Depthcharge meant a random member would take her in for the day. Be it for scouting, energon harvesting or base maintenance. Battle was a last resort. No one would dare risk the possibility of her running back to X.
One morning, to his dismay, Dinobot was the assigned guardian for the day.
He growled as Optimus finished the morning meeting and assigned his responsibility.
Whipsaw had interacted with him before, there was an air of tension between the two.
Neither knew what to do or say to break the ice. That or Dinobot didn't even desire to try.
After a few minutes of muttering with Primal he just nodded and turned around to leave. Primal turned to look at Whipsaw, sitting by herself on a bench near the exit of the ship.
"Whipsaw" He called for her attention.
"Ready to go? You're with Dinobot today"
She walked to him, nodding.
"If anything goes wrong, please stay behind him. We don't want you getting hurt, do we?"
She smiled sheepishly. Her reputation had come back to bite her.
"No, sir"
"Good. Take care"
Dinobot was already standing on the exit elevator of the ship, the crab walked onto it and stood beside him. His long feathered cape made him seem much larger than what he already was.
Once on the ground, he transformed into his beast mode and walked away. Whip kept up with his pace, sprinting alongside him for a couple of kilometres.
The quadrant assigned was a coastal forest, rife with tall and dense trees covering the floor from the scorching sun, slowly transitioning into dark sand reaching the water.
Dinobot maximized, shuffling to dust off his feathers of any debris. Whipsaw stood beside, uncomfy. The silence had gone on for so long it wasn't clear if it should be broken or left alone.
She followed the warrior's movements, seeing how he carried himself with so much confidence. She saw a bit of her father in Dinobot. His seriousness, perhaps or his deliberate avoidance of eye contact with her. As he scanned the perimeter, Whipsaw sat on a rock near the transition from ground to sand.
Lost in thought, she spaced out, looking at the sea, hoping for a familiar silhouette to jump out of the water.
"Scout" Dinobot called. She snapped back.
"Yes?"
"I overheard your conversation with your... sire, a couple of cycles ago. Is it true you're training your sword fighting skills?"
"Eh, yeah! Yes I did! He said l am decent at it!"
"What has he taught you?"
"He.. uh.. he taught me how to hold the sword and then told me to practice with the program!."
"Have you practiced combat with an actual adversary?..."
Whipsaw shook her head, tilting it a bit. "Only once, after that he was never up for it. Plus he said the program was enough practice"
Dinobot snarled as he stood up, unsheathing his segmented sword, each piece glistening as the sun hit it through the tree leaves.
"I don't know what I expected from a Imperial Officer. So self-centred. Not even bothered to teach his own spawn to defend herself? He scoffed. "How heroic of him. Your sire is quite an example to follow."
Whipsaw felt mocked. She replied without much thought. "He did teach me a technique though! And I bet I could defeat you with it!"
Safe to say, impulse control is something she hasn't practiced. Whipsaw took a second before realizing what she'd said. By the time she was ready to say it was a joke, Dinobot's sword was in front of her.
"Is that so?... Well then, I'll humor you." He stepped back. "En guarde, crustacean!"
It wasn't long before Whipsaw dropped to the ground.
Her telson sword having flew off and wedged itself in a tree trunk. She'd gotten scared of how close the rotating blade had got to her face, and panicked. Dinobot however, stood firm. Relaxing his pose as he saw the kid, now disarmed.
“The Patient Paladin.”
"W— What?"
"That technique you attempted. It's called the 'Patient Paladin'....An ancient Maximal sword fighting technique based on exhausting a rival you can disarm them efficiently. You held up for the first minutes, but it seems like you were getting... impatient."
Whipsaw blinked.
"I— That's– That's not fair! You almost hit me in the face! That's not allowed!"
"In war nothing is forbidden!" He snapped back.
"Depthcharge seems to have taught you the most useless of the ancient techniques— 'Patient'..." He huffed. " Might as well call it 'Dead Paladin'. It's a complete waste of the sword's blade! If I wanted to block attacks I'd use a shield."
He walked to the tree pierced by the arachnid telson, took it out and handed it back to its owner.
Whipsaw was angry. What the hell is wrong with this bot?
"But I did everything right! Those were all the moves he taught me!"
“Then all you've been taught is wrong, scout."
"What is right to you then?!"
"Stand up! We have a lot to go through."
Day turned to dusk, Whipsaw was exhausted. She sat down in the cool water of the beach to relax from the rigorous training session Dinobot had coached her through.
The warrior, standing behind her, focused his attention on polishing his sword's segments.
"Decent performance today. We will start training next cycle."
Whipsaw stared back at him with big, dread-filled optics. "...Start?"
"This session was warm-up. There's more to the art of sword-fighting than just slashing mindlessly."
He muttered to himself and transformed into his beast mode. Dinobot walked back to the forest and quickly came back with Whipsaw's sword in his mouth, dropping it beside her.
"You're doing better than most."
She visibly lit up at the comment. Grabbing her sword and staring at the setting sun over the stretching coastline.
"Get up. We have to get back to base before nightfall."
Days went by. Whipsaw was given to a different teammate, each trying their best to teach her something useful as they went on with their regular routine. Sometimes it was easier than others. Eventually, she was assigned to Dinobot again. The uncomfortable silence had disappeared, but now an air of competition was left. She wanted to prove to him she could be even better, not just a 'decent' performer.
Now in a coastal prairie the two soldiers battle yet again. Dinobot had left behind the antiquated Maximal techniques to focus on the unrelenting Predacon tactics for close range combat.
Dueling the bitlet while lecturing her on the weak grip on her blade, the clunky movements of her thrusts and her careless combat attitude. Eventually he introduced her to the most effective of all the Predacon tactics: the "Raging Tempest". A technique that balances ruthless combat with a quick analysis of the opponent; under stress, the flaws in any warrior can be exposed and subsequently exploited.
Whipsaw had close calls, having to narrowly dodge slashes to the face or body. Her breathing shallowed, the only signal of exhaustion she demonstrated. As their swords clashed and they maneuvered around the hits, Dinobot spoke.
"The Maximals think w—" He stammered. "—think the Predacons are... savages. They think they're so treacherous they'll find and use ANY opportunity to kill.” With a swift movement he pushed Whipsaw back, she held her posture and retaliated.
"They have underestimated them. They have done so for millions of years. To describe them accurately: the Predacons are cunning. They analyze all their probabilities constantly and only act once a clear course of action is determined."
As he finished his sentence, Whipsaw managed to disarm him, twisting his hold on the handle. She stood with her mouth open, looking up at the warrior before her with shock. The sword laid on the ground, tall grass obscuring it.
"Their reputation is not without precedent. They use ruthlessness and fear to win."
He glanced at his sword and back at the bitlet's optics. Still big and seemingly afraid. He picked up his sword, held it horizontally towards her direction and then turned the blade towards the sky. A salute.
"We are way past that."
Metallic steps thunder through the Maximal base, accompanied by the dripping of water.
Depthcharge walks into the Maximal base, reaching at a big tangle of sargassum on his back and dropping it aside on the ground. He flexes his joints to allow for them to dry.
Meditating in silence, he scans his frame and checks for any internal damage to his systems.
The eerie silence broke his focus. The fins on his helm perk up as the realization dawns on him.
The hatch opens to the bridge, Rattrap parrots on about something as Primal focuses on his monitor. His focus is interrupted as the Marshall slams his servo on the table with a little too much force.
"Where is she?" He asks, mildly aggravated. Before Primal can answer, Rattrap forces himself into the conversation.
"What's wrong? Is it past her bedtime?" Rattrap said with a smirk on his face.
Depthcharge hesitated. "Yes. It is, actually." His voice was strained, as if he’d stifled back an aggresive comeback. "Did she not come back from patrol? Did she leave without you knowing?"
Optimus answers, unfazed. "Your bitlet is on patrol with Dinobot. He's looking over her and has reported back once each megakl—"
"The Pred?!" Depthcharge interrupts him, the indignation breaks his stoic facade.
"Dinobot is loyal to our cause and he's a friend. You're well aware of that." He affirms confidently.
"I am not questioning his loyalty but the decision entrust her to him, considering his insufferable attitude and unwillingness to cooperate." The manta barked back, anger obvious in his voice.
"The pot's calling the kettle black." Rattrap muttered to no one in particular.
"Rattrap, shut up." The big bot hissed.
"Why? What's the issue?" He continued, standing and walking towards the two bots who doubled his size. "He's scared 'Uncle Dinobot' might be a bad influence on the kid?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Tension dense enough to be slashed through.
Depthcharge lowered his helm.
"Oh, by Primus. I nailed it. You're scared Dinobot might turn your bitlet into a Pred again."
A sharp noise overwhelmed the room. Steel against steel. Rattrap's pedes hung in the air as he was caught by Depthcharge's grip, threatening to crush him.
"—GHH— Of course— It wasn't my intention to dismiss a fri— Ghh— a friend's concerns—" The small bot couldn't breathe.
"Don't do anything reckless, Depthcharge." Optimus held a blaster against his old friend's temple.
The heat of the barrel makes the Officer narrow his sharp optics. He growls to himself and drops the bot on the ground, who yelps in pain.
Depthcharge does not turn back to see his comrades optic to optic as he walks out of the bridge. "As Maximals, your credulousness of Predacons is unsettling." He shakily sighs. "The enemy has taken enough from us."
"Is she the enemy too?" Optimus questioned.
The question hung in the air. Depthcharge stops for a second, then continues walking.