Big R

A note on the spelling of ‘Tripredacus’; I’ve managed to get a copy of the original script, and even in it it’s spelt with an ‘a’ and an ‘i’, even on the same page.

Judging by the fact that ‘a’ is used about six times, and ‘i’ it used only about twice, I can only assume that the others are spelling mistakes.

“Something on your mind old friend?”
”Hmm? Oh no, not really, just thinking.”

“How are the repairs coming?”

“After Megatron's last attack, slowly. They did a lot of damage in that short period of time.”

Optimus nodded, before heading off.

I sighed, everyone had changed so much over the last Astral or so, I hardly recognised anyone now, not even myself.

Optimus and I had known each other now for far too many Astrals to even try counting, and I’d slowly watched him change from a carefree scout captain to the battle-hardened warrior that he was now.

I guess that that’s what war does to a bot. Being brought back from the Matrix probably hadn’t helped much either.

I shot a glance at the departing bot. It wasn’t just his personality that was unrecognisable now; he towered over the rest of us, a bizarre blend of modern design and archaic construction.

But Primal wasn’t the only one who had changed; Cheetor was one of the few bots who had undertaken the change to Transmetal 2 technology.

In a way I felt sorry for him; Transmetal 2 was a very new field back home, and many bots didn’t survive the initial conversion. It would be very likely that he’d be asked to assist the technicians and scientists at the research facility.

Rattrap. Even he’d changed, although probably the least of any of us; he was still the obnoxious yet likable bot that he’d been when he’d enlisted aboard the Axalon, but Dinobot’s death and eventual resurrection had been especially hard on him. The Rattrap that I knew wouldn’t even have let himself become attached to a comrade that deeply.

Poor Dinobot, I still don’t know what to make of him; he’s nothing more than a droid now, even if he does appear to currently be in control of Rampage.

Rampage, how I wish I’d never been involved in the X project. I was just a mate aboard one of the supply couriers to Omicron at the time, but I’d heard enough form the scientists to know what was going on. Depth Charge used to be one of the most sociable of them; we spent many hours just discussing anything and everything to alleviate the boredom of the nightshift.

Poor Depth Charge, luckily I’d been on Cybertron when I’d heard about what happened there, but I couldn’t even imagine what it would have been like for him. Optimus and I had tried to council him when we arrived there, but he’d already withdrawn into himself. Primus knows what he’ll do when X is disabled permanently.

But now X is here, and in a way I’m glad that we have Depth Charge with us. Even though everyone only sees me as part of the computers, even I can’t help but feel a little edgy to know that such an accomplished mass murderer is just a few clicks away. Hopefully between Dinobot and DC we can finally bring him down.

Slag Megatron, sometimes I just get so angry with him for what he’s done to all of us. I hadn’t met any of the Predacons before, but just through observation on the battlefield I could tell that every one of them had changed just as much as we all had.

In a way I felt personally responsible for both Quickstrike and Inferno; it was partially my suggestion that we revert most of the crew back into protofroms whilst a crew of four searched the galaxy for minerals. At the time it made sense; no use thirty six bots being active during the search, they were to be activated upon landing to help with resource gathering.

But who was to know that we’d be tasked with bringing the Darkside down? We were an exploration ship, nothing more. Slag, we weren’t even given time to prepare ourselves. Fortunately, neither was Megatron; his weapons completely outclassed ours. If he’d been better prepared I doubt that we would even have gotten time to eject the pods.

At least we still managed to save Tigertron and Airrazor, but who knew what the aliens were doing with them? Judging from the data disks that I’d found I gathered that it wasn’t pretty, but only Primal knew what I’d found; it would probably break the kid if he found out what was probably happening to his role model.

And then there was Silverbolt. Fortunately he’d decided to side with us, although how he operates without any core programming is still beyond me. I can’t help but wonder what the High council will make of him; they’ll probably judge him a loose cannon because he has no programmed allegiance, but those who know him best will hopefully testify to his reliability.

At least he managed to sway Blackarachnia to our cause, so that’s one less bot on my conscious.

Luckily, Tarantulas’ reprogramming wasn’t as strong as he’d like to think with her; she hadn’t showed any of the treachery lately that she had whilst as a Predacon. I guess seeing what we’re all fighting for within the Ark was enough to shake the Maximal in her awake. Hopefully when we get home something can be done about the other Predacons, that way my conscious can be finally cleared.

Hmm, to think it’s all Tarantulas’ doing. I was a little shocked when I first heard that he was aboard the Darkside, as I’d heard rumours about him that I hoped weren’t true.

Of course if they were, then that would also mean that Council Tripredacus also exists. If that’s the case, then we’re all in big trouble if the reports on their origins are even vaguely correct.

But then again, if they’re not, then who sent Ravage? He told us that the Predacons had sent him, but after the repercussions of Megatron stealing the disks, surely they wouldn’t be so stupid as to keep the Transwarp explosion from the Maximals, would they?

Plus the fact that the Decepticons are notoriously hard to find, and the Preds would still have had to go through proper channels to let Ravage have their new prototype cruiser. All evidence points to a body acting outside the jurisdiction of the Predacons…

“Hey big R, whatcha up ta?”

I sighed, “Not now Rattrap, I’m busy.”

“Heh, we all know that you’re secretly playin’ solitaire on ‘dere.”

“Haven’t you got something to do?”
”Nah, not really. Kitty cat’s out on patrol, and ‘ol Bolt’s probably scouting new positions with Ungoliant.”

“Then in that case I need help replacing the power feeds, you’re about the only one that can fit in the ducts.”

“Ah, I just remembered. Boss monkey told me ‘ta head out ‘n scout the south passage.”

“Well then, get to it.”

I sighed as the rat scurried off. They all wondered why I spent so much time working on the computers, but the truth of the matter is that if I had a bit more help then I wouldn’t ‘need’ to spend all my time staring at a screen.

I guess that it’s true that the more people change, the more they stay the same.