Sometimes I almost feel like I’m not one of them.

Oh, I don’t mean it as dramatically as I once told Optimus Primal and Dinobot. Obviously, I have to be involved in this war to stop the Predacons. What other option is there besides fighting? At the time, Snowstalker’s death made my mind too grief-crazed to think through my actions clearly, and I thought withdrawing from the Beast Wars would solve my problems. I was wrong. I had to rejoin the battle for my friends and for this world.

It seems to me that I’m the only one who cares enough to fight just for the sake of this planet. The Maximals and Predacons fight for their future, for the future of Cybertron. Everything is fought for the sake of the future…yet I walk this world in my beast mode and look through its eyes, and I cannot fight for that future. I see the destruction the Predacons and Maximals alike leave in their wake, and I fight to stop that devastation. Here. Now. The future is a distant time away; Cybertron a place I’ve never seen.

No, this world is not my home. Metal slides beneath white fur where muscle should be. My mind is complex beyond anything natural. I was not born; I was not grown. I was programmed and designed. I am a Cybertronian. I know that. I know that I don’t belong here. I stand here on a planet far from where I should be and look out over the world through optics of glass and metal, seeing the earth torn with the burns and scars of recent battle, and I was in that battle. It was good to stand by my fellow Maximals and fight for the future, for Cybertron. It is, after all, my home.

But energon build-up forces me to transform, and unnatural optics disappear beneath a layer of organic flesh and fur. They dim and go offline, no longer needed. The way my body folds and twists together in transformation places them elsewhere than my beast mode’s face, and instead of optics, tiger eyes open to give me vision once more.

…and the world changes. Before me lies the wounded earth, and no more can I see it as a necessity in the fight against the Predacons. It was not good to stand beside the Maximals. What right do we have to sacrifice this living world for a cold metal planet far away? What right do we have?

We should leave and free this poor planet of our warfare, but that can only happen when the Predacons are no longer a threat to the future of Cybertron. Until then, the earth wails in pain beneath my paws as lasers burn and missiles explode, and how can I not try and stop that pain? I am one with it, fur and flesh and eyes. Just a child of the earth, trying to ease its agony. I am closer to it than Cybertron, for my memories begin here. What do I have of Cybertron? Facts and stories, but nothing personal of my own. It is my home…yet this is my world.

So I fight for it. Not for the metal planet that I came from, not for the future, not for anything but the here and now. I look through the eyes of a tiger, and so I fight.

Perhaps it isn’t right that I don’t fight for Cybertron. I know that I don’t fit in. I spend more time alone in the wild than in the base with the other Maximals. I am closer to the earth than to my fellow Cybertronians, but I have tried to explain my thoughts to some of them. I tried to tell Dinobot, but he doesn’t fight for anything BUT the future. Rattrap said that I was getting mushy in my head. Cheetor simply looked at me in puzzlement before changing the subject. And Optimus…he tried to understand. He told me that he couldn’t quite grasp what I was saying from his point of view.

His point of view? Perhaps…

I feel such passion for the protection of this world because I’ve seen what has been done to the home of my beast mode through its own eyes. The other Maximals fight so determinedly for Cybertron because they can see how much damage could be done to their home if they don’t. Why couldn’t they fight for this world, too? If they could just see what was happening around them now instead of what might happen in the future…but that’s from my perspective.

Sometimes I almost feel like I’m not one of them, Maximal or even Cybertronian. Maybe my mistake all along is that I’ve been watching them through the eyes of a tiger, not understanding that I, too, am fighting for the future in my battle to save this world. I’ve seen Optimus study the plant-life, Rhinox catalog the stars and the geography. I’ve seen Cheetor run with the cheetahs and Rattrap eat all the garbage he can hold. They live on this world with me. They fight for their future…but also for the planet? I don’t know. Always before I’ve thought of them as inconsiderate of the living earth they tear apart, and so I’ve stayed away from them, roaming the wilds. But…perhaps I just need to look at the world through their eyes.

The CR Chamber opened with a slight hiss, and Tigatron stepped out, battle-damage repaired. He nodded to the rhino waiting in front of him as he dropped into his beast mode. "I’ll just continue my patrol, Rhinox."

Cheetor looked up from stalking down the hall as he headed for the nearest exit. "Hey, Big Cat! Help me pin Ratface to the deck, will ya?"

He looked down at the smaller cheetah and tilted his head to the side inquiringly. "Why would you want to do that? Has he done something to you?"

Sitting back on his haunches and scratching vigorously behind one ear, Cheetor still managed to nod. "Yeah, I’ll say! He left a moldy hunk of…of SOMETHING in my room!" He finished scratching and pointed one forepaw at the floor. "See? I’m following the trail of crumbs."

Indeed, there was a dribbled path of food bits down the side of the corridor, and after one sniff Tigatron could tell that Rattrap had definitely been the one to leave it in his wake.

"When I catch up with him..!" Cheetor swatted dramatically at the air in front of himself, batting at an imaginary rat.

Tigatron chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, Little Cat. I’m going back out on patrol in—"

"Aw, c’MON!" Cheetor whined. "You’re ALWAYS out doing something! Can’t you just have some fun with me for once?"

Tigatron sighed as the cheetah looked at him with exaggerated, sad kitten eyes. "Well, I…" He paused and reconsidered. How long had it really been since he’d tried to do anything with the Maximals? It was beginning to seem like they only met during battles…not exactly the best of times to try and talk, to understand.

"Big Cat?"

"…alright, Cheetor. Let’s hunt down Rattrap."

For the sake of a planet far away through space and time, I hope I’ll eventually be able to see through their eyes.

Until then, I hope they might see through mine.

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