22.Jul.06

Disclaimer: Yup, plot's mine, character's aren't...and again. Also this format is a little different, as there is a lack of indents. A few people brought it to my attention that my indentations were wrong, so I cut it. This is third in the ‘Destroying Justice’ series.

Destroying Justice

By: Landray Depth Charge

"Courage is resistance to fear, master of fear - not absence of fear."

Mark Twain

Chapter One

Friend..

Depth Charge's optics narrowed as he turned his head, brow furrowing in the darkness.

Dearest playmate..have you forgotten me?

His optics were black, but his face and his upper torso were illuminated in the eerie yellow glow of a streetlamp. That glow stretched a distance, lighting up his room in its dull, lazy grip.

Wakey wakey,old friend..

Crimson optics activated as Depth Charge bolted upright on the recharge bed, panting heavily, gaze sweeping the room, searching for that voice he knew all too well. The manta got to his hands and feet, crouched like an animal -- uncharacteristic of him -- on the platform as he deduced that there was no one in his sleeping quarters. Quietly, like the hunter that he was, Depth Charge slipped down, standing straight and bringing his remora launcher to bear, setting it to fire missiles, rather than energy pulses. There was someone here, somewhere...

Depth Charge's inspection of the living and energon storage rooms came up empty, despite what he'd thought he had heard. Idiot, he scoffed to himself, lowering the gun. Rampage is IN your SLAGGIN' subspace! It was a dream. The ray smirked. Only this, and nothing more.

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!" he cackled.

Spinning around, Depth Charge aimed at where the perceived voice had come from. That was not a dream. But it was impossible! Rampage's spark was inside subspace! A quick scan of his pockets revealed that notion to be fact, which only served in confusing and flustering the manta further. "Rampage..?"

Only silence, and nothing more.

Depth Charge tried again, uncertain. "X?"

No reply.

I'm..finally losing my mind, he mused uneasily, swallowing somewhat. A mercury hand reached back and felt at the ethereal opening to his right subspace pocket, but he paused and shook his head. Depth Charge wouldn't dare turn the spark out. As soon as the containment glass left the safety of his subspace, and of the blocking chip Optimus had given him, Rampage's signature would register on the radar. And if Nazarius is still looking for him..

He couldn't chance it. It was bad enough that a decacyle ago that security idiot at the spaceport had caught him when he and Rhinox had gotten rid of Rampage's body. Nothing had come of the incident so Depth Charge assumed that the guard hadn't found anything, though if there was one thing he hated to do, it was assume. He'd made horrible assumptions in his lifetime, ones that had nearly cost his own life along with others, and he was wary of making the same mistake.

Sighing softly with a shake of his helm, Depth Charge turned and made his way onto the balcony overlooking the streets. He wasn’t very many levels up, but then, when one considered that some buildings went up to thousands of levels high, being on the three-hundredth floor was really nothing. Vexed, Depth Charge thought over what had happened. He was certain to a degree that he’d heard Rampage’s voice, convinced that he had registered his presence, that old feeling, the tingling that always scrawled up his metallic neural spine when X was near – he’d gotten all of it. The cityscape brought him no peace as watching the ocean would have on Earth, for there was too much activity on Cybertron. He’d forgotten what true civilization was like and how busy it was. Even at the Earth equivalent of two ‘o’ clock in the morning, the Cybertronian planet was up and bustling quietly as the night-living population did its thing. Robots and vehicles zoomed past in the air on their way to who-knew-where, throwing odd shadows on Depth Charge’s already oddly-shaped face.

Depth Charge shook his head. It was a nightmare. It had to have been.

..Nevermore.

The next morning brought nothing of interest to the ray-bot. Paranoid as he always was, Depth Charge had inspected every single inch of his living quarters, from the energon storage closet to the storage space in his bedroom and back again. Just as he had expected, nothing more came up then the night before had.

That left him with positively, absolutely nothing to do. He was financially set for a decent amount of him, and was in no hurry just yet to head off to find a job. Depth Charge had his sights set on laying low for a while, keeping to himself, and avoiding contact with the…outside world. Why should he go out of his way to interact with a community that loathed and detested him? Primus forbid he disobey their precious High Council and condemn himself to eternal hatred by the remainder of Cybertron and it’s inhabitants!

Snorting, Depth Charge mentally ridiculed the idiots that lived on that Primus-forsaken planet. It was no secret that since being spoiled by the quiet tranquility of Earth, the metal manta longed for it, and in turn abhorred the noisy, constant activity that plagued Cybertron at all hours. He was too used to a 24-hour sleep cycle, sun rose, get up, sun sets, go to sleep. But even in the dead of night, Cybertron was busy and active as the night shift took over for the day shift residents. It was an irritation that irked Depth Charge to no end, and he eagerly started forming plans to move.

On the downside of Earth, it would no longer be as serene and silent. Humans swamped the surface, destroying everything in their path, polluting the water, the nasty bastards. Even so, in spite of his general dislike of the meatballs-with-brains, the manta thought it a better environment for him than Cybertron. Even Omicron wasn’t completely mechanical. It had sat on what could only be described as a small moon, circling an uninhabitable planet only a few hours’ distance from Cybertron. Artificial gravity kept everyone firmly on the surface, enough in fact to allow for the “ocean” that it had housed – no more than a large and glorified freshwater lake that the city had revolved around. Still, no matter how long it had been, Depth Charge would taste a lie if he tried to say he didn’t miss his home.

The home communicator in the living room beeped it’s warning of an incoming transmission. Annoyed at the prospect of being contacted, the metal manta twitched his fins and tromped unhappily to where the beep originated on the desk beside the sofa. Depth Charge hated that Teflon-protected pleather piece of shit, he really did. Glaring at the communicator for a second as it continued it’s droll blips, he sat down on the couch that he lovingly called the ‘abomination’ and reached out, activating the link with the flick of his finger. “Who is it and what do you want?”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded bored and otherwise unruffled by Depth Charge’s rudeness. “High Elder Nazarius wishes to see you.”

“Then do me a favor and give Elder Nazarius a message,” said the warrior. “Tell him to kindly stick a grenade up his waste disposal, hey?”

A sigh.

Depth Charge seemed to roll his angular, pupil-less optics and growled, “Now?”

“Now,” came the uninterested reply.

At the confirming click that sounded, Depth Charge leaned back on the abomination uncomfortably. What did that son of Starscream want?

---------

“You know what your problem is, Nazarius?” Depth Charge snarled perilously, leaning over the Elder’s desk and prodding his right pointer digit against the other’s chest. “You just won’t quit, and that only proves to me your vast stupidity. You want so badly for me to screw up, just so you can get me back for all those years of not cowering at your feet like some canid.”

Furious, Nazarious stood up, still looking far up to Depth Charge at best. “You are way out of line, here, guardian!”

“Do not call me that!” bellowed the bass-toned manta. “It is because of you and your little decision to play mad scientist that I am not a guardian anymore. As such, you will not address me as one, you got that?”

“You worthless whelp!” cried Nazarius as he leaned over the desk as well, verbally sparring the Maximal ray with only inches between their faces. “Your unorthodox methods only served to wound what could have been a great and flourishing colony!”

“Omicron did flourish, Elder Nazarius!” parried the veteran with an accentuating slam of his fist. “You were too blind or stupid to see it. All you slagging gave a damn about was waiting for me to fuck up. It pissed you off that I never did, didn’t it?”

Oh, that one hit a chord. The optics imbedded in High Elder Nazarius’s face were smoldering with rage, jaw set and teeth gritting against his fruitless anger. After a moment, a soft but venomous hiss was released for Depth Charge to hear. “If you never failed,” rasped he, “then why is Omicron in ruins?”

Lightning seemed to flash and before the poor Elder knew it, he was jacked into the air with his weight supported by Depth Charge’s fist around his throat. Uselessly, the High Councilor clawed at the silver wrist, but the Maximal manta’s fingers were locked as tight as a pit bull’s jaw, and Nazarius had no choice but to stare into the narrowed rubies before him. By the Pit, the ray’s eyes were wild and bright, glowing in molten malice and a terrible ill-intent that anyone could recognize. If the Elder could not get the metal manta off him now, he wasn’t going to be coming out of his private office alive. Still, he had one last card to play, a safeguard against this sort of happening.

All Depth Charge saw was Nazarius kicking haphazardly underneath his desk, an action that meant little to him. He figured that perhaps the Elder was twitching as an effect from oxygen deprived systems, the beginnings of seizure as his circuitry began to overheat. Unfortunately, that was not the case, for only a moment later the guards that had been just outside the door all along burst in.

Primus damnit.

The Rhinox-sized truck-mech of red and white coloration charged him, jabbing what looked to be a lance for Depth Charge’s exposed side, sliding the head of the blade square between a set of Transmetal rib-structures despite the Elder’s assailant having dropped him. The ray grunted, feeling a stabbing pain and mech-fluid beginning to flow, and became unpleasantly surprised by the hefty guard’s next move – turned out, the spear was electrified. A bloodcurdling scream erupted as energy surged and began to dance along Depth Charge’s armor, neck hyper-extended back with optics wide as his circuitry started to short and sizzle.

Nazarius, standing, having regained enough composure to watch with sadistic glee, watched as his faithful bodyguards electrocuted Depth Charge onto his knees before finally lifting his hand with a calm, “Enough.”

If the fallen ray-bot had possessed a mouth, Primus knew he’d be frothing in pained fury. Smoke billowed from a few select places as internal circuitry continued to fry and sizzle, letting off the occasional flitting chirp as the overloaded systems blew out. Well. As if the guards didn’t over-react a tad bit on that one, eh? Depth Charge thought so, mind loose as he panted erratically and attempted to regain sufficient control over himself, in mind and body. Anger rolled over his frame in waves, and images flitted through his frazzled brain of ripping into the guards and killing them. Sanguine optics suddenly roiled with terrible poison, yes, that would be fun, wouldn’t it? An optic for an optic? They shocked Depth Charge, they hurt him so, and why should he not return to favor? Silver digits gingerly felt at the stab-wound he now adorned, wincing at the pain of it, feeling his chipped rib-supports as one dactyl pressed into the puncture. How dare they…

Now you feel it, old friend…

Act on it.

Yes.

In a second he had one guard on his knees. The movement had been lightning fast – yanking the electrified staff from the lackey’s hands, Depth Charge stood with a roar of indignant fury and clubbed the smaller ‘bot across the face with it, using that momentum to spin and repeat the savage move on the armed transformer behind him. The third he swiftly disarmed, slicing the unfortunate ‘bots wrist open and thus forcing him to drop the weapon he’d pulled.

Now it is time for the slaughter! Make them hurt like they made you!

Yes…

Nazarius gasped in shock as his protection fell around him and he was left to deal with a very furious fish-bot that was three times his size. Backing swiftly, he pressed his shoulder blades against the cold metal wall behind him, optics agape with fear as Depth Charge began to advance, his gargantuan frame eclipsing the ceiling lights above him. The first two officers he’d taken down were not down for the count and stood, leaping at him from both sides and grabbing his arms. The Maximal manta snarled and flung his body about-face, agony forgotten and ignored, all Depth Charge wanted was Nazarius dead. All he wanted was that Elder’s mech-fluid staining his hands, to be drenched in it!

No.

No!

The chaos quitted for the moment as the combatants stilled. Depth Charge panted hard, his narrowed red glare widening in surprise. What was he doing? Why? He was hurt and in pain because he’d attacked the High Elder, it was no fault of these guards! The mercury hand loosened, dropping the electro-staff to the floor as the two sentinels drew his cooperative arms behind his back and placed around his wrists energy cuffs strong enough to restrain Grimlock. Depth Charge was dumbfounded. Never before had he felt such an intense desire to destroy, to render, to kill something harmless and helpless. High Elder Nazarius was thin and frail, the type of robot whom a grunt like Depth Charge could snap in two with little or no effort. He, despite all of the grievances against the manta himself, was innocent on that day. Depth Charge was never supposed to harm an innocent.