Now, the terrified shriek made Tarn finally take notice of the small mech hiding behind Deathsaurus. Nitrogear. Why did Nitrogear had to be here as well? It was bad enough that the warworld commander had apparently taken the time to review the footage of their combat time and time again until he had worked out the reason of his injury. But his secretary as well? Just how many of Deathsarus’ crew had had access to that footage?
Tarn briefly considered the medicine cabinet. He fleetingly wondered how long until he passed out if he chugged down a full bottle of painkiller pills.
He discarded the idea as quickly as it came though. Deathsaurus was already angry enough at him. Worse actually. He wasn’t angry.
The word came crashing on Tarn like a building. Tarn could deal with many things. But disappointing someone he had been trying to impress in favour of a mutually beneficial alliance wasn’t one of them. And the worst of all was going to be when his teammates eventually found out. He definitely couldn’t deal with that level of disappointment. Tarn had screwed up their best chance to have something resembling a stable future.
“I…” Tarn desperately tried to pinpoint the exact moment when everything went wrong in case he ever had the chance to travel back in time. He had disappointed Nickel, Deathsaurus, his teammates… He might as well pass on leadership to Kaon and bury himself in the first asteroid that flew close enough
“You’re right. I broke my T-cog.” Tarn said with a deep sigh, finally giving up, shoulder barrels dropping dejectedly. “I didn’t want you to find out because…” How did one say ‘because I am addicted to shape-shifting’ without sounding like a complete failure? “Because… I know there are some rumours…” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.
Okay that wasn’t exactly true. They weren’t rumours. It was the truth. If he was going to dig his own grave at least he’d go out like an honest mech.
“Because I am addicted to changing shape, okay?” Tarn groan-sighed, throwing his arms up in a gesture of both exasperation and surrender. “And I am trying to give it up. And the first step to gradually do so was to make my T-cogs last longer. And that apparently is done by transforming less. And not by trying to stretch out the useful life of your current T-cog by delaying the replacement. And Nickel already gave me the scolding of the century for it so I really don’t need you doing it again, please.
My T-cog broke during our spar because it was in terrible shape, something that wouldn’t have happened if I had changed it when I should. And I didn’t want you to find out because I didn’t want you to think less of me- think that I am weak or a handicap… or that I am a bad choice for an ally or… I guess I just didn’t want to screw this up…”
All was blurted out in a rush and Tarn felt briefly good for finally letting it all out… but that was soon replaced by regret because it meant Deathsaurus would probably hate him now.
“But I have.” He added softly unable to look at any of the other mechs. “So if you’re thinking about going back on our alliance please consider at least taking my teammates with you. They are… so much better than me.”
Though he didn’t do it on purpose, Deathsaurus let Tarn’s admission hang in the air long enough that Nitrogear looked up at him questioningly. Blinking quickly, the beastformer tried to comprehend Tarn’s reasoning. While he could certainly understand the tankformer’s wish to keep their addiction private, Deathsaurus struggled to see the logic in it.
Did Tarn not think Deathsaurus was capable of keeping such information secret? What were they planning to do if their T-cog broke on the battlefield? What if Nickel was not available and a new T-cog was needed? Had Tarn been planning on remaining in agony until Nickel was available?
There were far too many questions running around in Deathsaurus’s mind to address at the moment. Right now, the more pressing matter was Tarn’s request. The tankformer made it sound like they were already planning to leave, and that was more than alarming for Deathsaurus.
“I...see,” the winged mech finally stated. He glanced down at Nitrogear, who, ever true to their nature, was huddled up behind the much larger mech. Stifling a sigh, Deathsaurus reached down and patted the smaller on the helm. “You may leave, Nitrogear. I do not think that I will need you-”
That was as far as Deathsaurus got before Nitrogear practically shot out of the room. He barely avoided crashing into the door before it could recognize the need to slide open. The sound of the scrawny mech’s rapid footfalls echoed through the hall until he was gone.
“Ahem. As I was saying...” Deathsaurus turned back to Tarn. “I have no intention of going back on our alliance. It is far too beneficial to abandon over something like this. However, I must now voice my concerns about something that could threaten our alliance.”
Frowning, Deathsaurus briefly took in his surroundings. He didn’t expect Tarn to lash out. At least, he hoped not. But the survivalist in the beastformer wasn’t going to continue without being at least a little cautious.
“This information that you kept from me was...critical, in my opinion. I have to ask, what did you plan to do if your T-cog broke in the middle of a fight and one of my crew, or myself, was relying on you to be able to function? Would we be left to our own devices then?”
Deathsaurus had plenty more that he wanted to ask, but he thought it best to address his questions one at a time.