Rampage resisted the urge to rub at his optics as he looked up. His optics felt tired, but rubbing at them wouldn’t help that any. Staring at wires for cycles on end meant that things tended to blur around the edges when he looked away, and it always made him think that there was oil or something covering his optics. He had to remind himself that it was just his optics playing tricks on him.
Right now a blurry Depth Charge standing on the other side of the bridge was rubbing at his optics, and the crab smirked. The smirk vanished, though, and Rampage glanced back down at the console he was working on. His optics reluctantly refocused on the tiny wires, but that only increased his frustration. It wasn’t that the delicate strands of metal were so small that he broke them if his much-larger fingers twitched the wrong way. He could work around that. It wasn’t that Depth Charge had crushed his spark earlier and his chest still ached because of it. Oh, yes, he was angry about it, but he had to admit that his intentions hadn’t been as peaceful as he’d insisted after creeping up behind the ray. But, no, his frustration sprang from a different source, and Rampage drew in a deep breath to face it.
“Depth Charge…” He hesitated as the ray turned towards him impatiently, watching one of the other robot’s hands snapping to the spark-box always kept at his side. He refused to flinch. “What do I do now?”
Depth Charge looked at the half-repaired console in front of the crab and frowned. That was the control section for the Transwarp drive. There were fried wires that needed replacing, command codes to be reinstalled, and half of the control board was fused. What was Rampage playing at? “What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously. The crab barely shifted, his discomfort with the situation more felt than seen, and Depth Charge’s optics narrowed. Abruptly, he relaxed again, although he kept his hand near the spark-bow just in case. “You’ll probably have to replace the burnt-out wiring before you can reprogram it,” he said, thinking that he understood. Rampage wanted to know where to start, that was all…
But Rampage shifted again, looking down at the console and then back up at the manta ray. “All right,” he said quietly. “But how do I…where do I…” his words slid into mumbling, and an intense emotion swept through him. He had hardly ever felt it, so he didn’t know what it was called. The only other times he had experienced it, anger and pain had been the foremost thing on his mind, but he couldn’t deny it now. Shame made his words trail off and his optics unable to meet the ray-bot’s.
“What?” Depth Charge asked, suspicion entering his voice again. He had to admit there wasn’t any other situation to compare this to, but something about the crab’s response rang an alarm in his mind. Strange behavior, if working together wasn’t strange enough…it came to the ray with a shock: Rampage was embarrassed!
But WHY?
The robot in question toyed with a pair of wire-cutters, fighting a battle he wasn’t used to fighting—a battle with himself. Part of him sneered at the humiliation flooding him, insisting that it wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t possibly be blamed for it. What did the opinion of anyone else matter? They would think what they liked, and it wasn’t like anyone really gave a slag about him, anyway. Why should this cause any emotion whatsoever in him?
But another part of him curiously studied what the past days had been like, realizing that Depth Charge might be wary and cold, but also an ally. And having an ally was something totally different for him. Why should he care what this ray-bot thought of him? Oddly enough, the answer was both simple and complex: he had to work with Depth Charge to get his revenge on Jirex and Kilju, but he also had the beginnings of a plan…what it might become wasn’t even close to completion, and just thinking about it confused him. Pieces were snapping into place, though. He had to admit that a lot of what that plan was based on was speculation and curiosity. There had never been a chance like this, and there probably wouldn’t ever be again; why shouldn’t he take advantage of it?
Because by taking advantage of it, he had to manipulate Depth Charge in a completely different way than he was used to: using the truth about himself. It was one thing to force the ray to see things he tried to hide, but it was a totally different thing for Rampage to risk exposing himself the same way. He could feel no fear at the idea, but he could feel this emotion, this shame…because he placed more importance on Depth Charge’s opinion of him than anyone else’s. That was the part that was curious, and the sneering part of him looked upon it as something alien. For now, though, the curiosity won out.
And so he felt ashamed.
Rampage realized that he had been silent for too long. “I…don’t really know what to do,” he said quickly, finally spitting it out.
The ray’s suspicious look turned into a blank stare. “Huh?”
“I’ve never repaired anything like this,” the immortal crab muttered as Depth Charge continued to stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.
That was NOT something he had expected to hear, and Depth Charge wondered wildly what kind of trick this new admission was. It went against everything he knew about the crab for him to expose a weakness! Was the crab trying to delay the repairs by pretending a lack of ability? What could he hope to gain?!
It didn’t occur to him to think that it was an honest statement until Rampage’s face began to darken with anger. “It’s not like the scientists went out of their way to teach me anything, you know,” the crab snapped harshly, his voice frustrated and…something else. It shocked Depth Charge again when he recognized the other emotion in the immortal’s voice: humiliation. “Almost everything I’ve learned since I escaped has been self-taught, and there hasn’t been much reason for me to learn how to install programs or repair consoles, now has there?! The only reason I’ve been able to do this much,” his fist swept out, and Depth Charge almost lurched forward in sudden fear for the console. They NEEDED that—but Rampage only pointed at it, blazing emerald optics locked on the ray standing across the bridge from him, “is because Megatron once assigned me to monitor duty, and ordered me to fix one of them. And even then I learned because I forced Waspinator to show me how and threatened to kill him if he breathed a word of it to anyone else. How can you expect me to repair something when I don’t know HOW?!” A voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to shut up, he was saying too much, but this pocket of fury inside Rampage had been sealed away for too long, prodded too much by Jirex and Kilju’s laughter. “I don’t even know what some of these words mean,” he gestured at the console screen, his pent-up anger silencing the little voice as the words poured out of him, “and I’m expected to do this? For Primus’ sake, Fish Face, I don’t even know how to—“ He choked himself off before he could say any more, finally seeing the absolutely stunned ray gaping at him. His vision was rimmed with the red rage, the furious tirade of words boiling inside him with an almost physical pressure, and he spun around to face away from Depth Charge with a strangled shriek of hatred. Whether it was directed at the ray or not didn’t matter; he’d take it out on anyone at this point, and some tiny, urgent part of his mind kept reminding him that the ray-bot held his spark-box in his hands. So he merely clenched his hands in front of himself and willed the anger to subside.
But it was so hard…and so easy to let go…
Depth Charge stared at the killer crab’s back, mind staggering from the sudden ranting. What Rampage had said was too much, too soon. The ray had ventured a few questions, true, and the A.L.H. Research Center had revealed what had seemed like a lot of the crab’s past, but now Depth Charge could see that what he had learned was only the tip of the iceberg…and the glimpse he had just be given of the whole was astounding. Yes, he had witnesses some of what Rampage had gone through, but observing that little bit had hardly prepared him for the thoughts now racing through his head. Had Rampage been that deprived?! The idea of lacking the basic knowledge needed to repair a simple console--!
And what was most astonishing was that he had never suspected. The information he had found and been given about the Protoform X project indicated that X was highly intelligent. It had never crossed his mind that the scientists had known that and still never bothered to TEACH the ‘bot anything! All this time he had thought Rampage was at the same level he was at…but thinking back…
It hit him with an almost painful shock: this killer, this ‘bot he had chased for so long…Rampage was younger than he was. Younger, less experienced, sorely lacking in knowledge and learning, and yet somehow the crab had managed to convey the feeling that he was older and wiser in a twisted way. How much of what Depth Charge assumed about him was just an image he’d put together on his own? The only time they’d ever really spoken was in battle! Even Cheetor had seemed older in battle!
Rampage’s loss of control had been obvious, and even now Depth Charge could see his crab legs shivering as the immortal fought to regain his composure. The surprising insights into the killer’s mind and past were like revelations, and the ray shook his head violently, trying to drive them from his mind. He didn’t WANT to understand these things! This ‘bot was a killer, a murderer, and nothing could excuse his actions! There was nothing that could justify him!
Pity seeped in around the edges of his shock, though, and he helplessly looked at Rampage’s back. No, there was no way to excuse what had been done on Omicron or Starbase Rugby, but there was also no way to excuse what had been done to this ‘bot. Locked away, tortured, not even taught basic skills, never treated as a person, only a thing…how would he have reacted? What would it have been LIKE to live like that?
Depth Charge couldn’t begin to imagine, and he turned his gaze away as if to give the shaking crab some sort of privacy. The waves of fury rolling off of him could practically be felt, but Rampage wasn’t attacking him for once. The ray’s optics caught on what was probably the reason why, and he shuddered suddenly. The spark core shimmered innocently inside its box, and Depth Charge had to wonder at the sheer violation of another robot he was holding in his hand.
Far too late, he wished he didn’t have this new insight. It was somehow more terrible to pity a monster than hate him.
Rage still lurked in him, but Rampage was experienced at using emotions he could do nothing about at the moment. There would be a time for the rage, a place for the hatred, and neither of them were here and now. Instead, he welcomed the smoldering anger, letting it build higher and higher. It cleared his head of the cluttering thoughts that had filled it since the escape from the A.L.H. Research Center, renewed his focus on revenge.
And it helped dim the humiliation.
The crab silently shook his head as Depth Charge pointed out another code command he didn’t understand. Looking through the code commands for parts to repair had been easy; all he’d had to do was look for breaks and scrambled bits in the lines. Now, though, the ray was trying to figure out how much of the reprogramming Rampage could actually do, and from the look on Depth Charge’s face, what he was finding out was disappointing. On Rampage’s part, each new thing that he had to admit he couldn’t do was a burning source of shame. He didn’t recoil from it, though—he treasured it, gathering in each shred of emotion to fuel the hatred and anger waiting inside him. He didn’t allow any of it to touch his face and change it from the disinterested expression he’d locked on it, however. That, too, he’d learned from experience, and his rage snarled behind the mask at Depth Charge, showing only through his optics, where he couldn’t control the emerald fires.
Those brilliant green optics were locked on the ray, giving away the humiliation to Depth Charge. The ray didn’t comment on it, didn’t try to talk about it or what it had been brought about by. He just quickly and methodically asked questions about what the crab could repair. He tried to pretend that he was dispassionate and removed, but each new question revealed how truly pathetic Rampage’s skills really were. Depth Charge thought that his growing disappointment and anger were because this was going to set the repairs back, but he had to admit that some of it was directed at the crab.
And not, he was beginning to realize, because of the normal reasons.
Oh, the hatred was still there, and his anger. He would never forgive Rampage for what he had done and who he had killed, but what he was gradually coming to understand was that this new anger was directed at what had been done to the crab. Pity had mutated into fury that the same people who had made this monster had also abused him. The intelligent mind the scientists’ reports had spoken of had been locked away and left in ignorance, tortured and experimented on. And…he had to wonder, and he pushed the thought away even as it occurred to him…what would have happened if those mistakes had never been made? Would Rampage have still been a mass murderer..?
Depth Charge paused in mid-question and shook his head, trying to drive the thoughts, the DOUBTS, away.
In that moment, Rampage struck out.
His fist threw the ray into the far wall, and he stalked after him even as his mind woke from the stupor the rage had lulled him into. It was the hatred walking across the bridge towards the groggy ray-bot trying to get up from the floor where he’d fallen; the rage curled large hands into fists and snarled in anticipation of pain. ANY pain. It didn’t matter that this ‘bot hadn’t caused most of the hatred, wasn’t the source of the humiliation, hadn’t laughed at him like the others who had caused his pain. Depth Charge was a target, and the hatred flooded Rampage, triggering an instinctual need to kill even as his dulled mind struggled to regain control. Reasons NOT to kill this ‘bot--not here, not now--pushed against the rage slowly as if they were mired in glue, and his hands spasmed as he paused, confused, before the ray.
That was all the time Depth Charge needed to gather his scattered wits and compress the spark-box in his hand. Fully, this time.
PAIN! As if his spark were being slashed by a thousand knives! The agony dropped Rampage to his knees as his whole body shuddered, wracked with shocks of pain stabbing outward from his spark, and he clutched at his chest helplessly. The emptiness of his spark core twisted through him until he was doubled over, his forehead pressed to the floor. Some distant part of his mind not paralyzed by sheer torture noted that he was screaming, a high-pitched screech of agony that dropped to a soft moan as the pressure suddenly let off on his spark. The pain singing throughout his body retreated sullenly until only his spark pulsed with its memory, but it took longer than that for his mind to recover.
By the time he had enough control over the lingering pain to lift his head off of the floor, Depth Charge was at the console they had been working at before, conveniently across the bridge and out of reach if the crab tried that again. The silver-blue robot had his back against the screen, though, and he was watching Rampage through narrowed optics. The crab ignored him for the moment, more concerned with locking down the hatred and rage that had started the incident.
The emotions pushed at him, and it was hard to contain them. His rational mind knew he needed Depth Charge, but the killer had been confined for too long. It saw a target, a toy for amusement, and it didn’t want to be shoved out of the way. ESPECIALLY after being questioned all day by this same ‘bot about subjects that exposed the crab’s weaknesses. What did the ray think he was going to do? Laugh at him for lacking knowledge? Why did Depth Charge need to know ANY of this?!
Gradually, after what felt like forever, Rampage fought it down. His optics dimmed to black, then brightened to a calmer green. He glanced up at the silent ray-bot, and his eyes flared briefly before settling again. Yes, he was angry, but it wasn’t the consuming fury anymore. Now he just levered himself to his feet and gave Depth Charge a steady, bland look. There was no apology for what he had done, no regret. He didn’t know why there should be. What was done was done, and nothing could change that, so why bother trying?
Depth Charge had watched him carefully and seen more than a struggle against pain. Why had the crab hesitated? That hesitation had given him the time he’d need to crush Rampage’s spark, and surely he had to know that. Then why?
It could be a trick. It probably was a trick. Then why did he keep thinking that it wasn’t?
Whatever was going on, though, one thing was sure. “You’re useless with any of the reprogramming,” he said bluntly, ignoring what had just happened. The crab’s optics blazed again, but Depth Charge continued, “You don’t know what to do, and it would take me longer to show you than to repair this place myself. You’ve already said that you don’t know what half the code commands even mean, so there’s no point in you trying to reprogram any of the computers I do get working. How much you know anything about the astrology section?”
Emerald optics lit to a hellish light and then dulled quickly. “Nothing.”
THAT answer caught Depth Charge by surprise. “Nothing? Then how did you get to—away from—“ He stopped and shook his head, forcing himself to slow his racing thoughts. “You have to know something about it. You stole ships to get to Starbase Rugby,” he said the name bitterly, “and off it again. so you must know how to enter coordinates, at least…” The look on Rampage’s face made him trail off uncertainly. “…don’t you?”
The crab laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “You have no idea how unlucky you are, Depth Charge. Did you think that I chose to go to any of the places I ended up on? No. I didn’t. The only reason I ended up on the Starbase is because,” his voice sank to a hiss, “the coordinates had been preprogrammed into the ship’s computers.”
Depth Charge could only stare at him.
Rampage laughed again. “Did you really think that I had gone to Starbase Rugby just to kill YOUR friends? You overestimate your worth; I didn’t even know you were chasing me until later! It was pure chance that I ever ended up there! I was originally going to take a trip to some place called Varhale, but the owner of that ship damaged the autopilot while I was killing him. I found another ship to steal with preset coordinates...” He noticed that the ray was still staring at him, and he guessed at the reason. “There was no plot to torment you, Fish Face,” he said with gentle malevolence, and Depth Charge flinched. “It wasn’t some kind of scheme to single you out. I had no real interest in you until after the Starbase, when you caught up to me on that little asteroid resort…what was it called…”
“Comotria,” the silver-blue robot whispered automatically.
“Ah, yes, that was it. Honestly, I didn’t even know you had survived Omicron. I thought you had died where I’d left you. It was actually kind of disappointing to know that I hadn’t REALLY wiped out a colony single-handedly.”
And the crab did sound faintly displeased, making Depth Charge flinch again, horror welling up inside him despite himself as he remembered Omicron. He had been in charge of the colony’s Security teams, but he hadn’t known how they were supposed to fight against this monster free in their midst. Guilt still ate at his spark as he remembered how they’d died, every last one of them, and X had stood over the crack he’d been too injured to avoid falling into. He’d laughed down at the fallen Security Chief, wedged helplessly in the ground where it’d split open under missile-fire, and then the monster had just LEFT him there, like the robot meant absolutely nothing. He hadn’t even been worth the time it would take to kill him outright, and he’d been abandoned to die a lingering death…
The strangled noise the ray made bore little resemblance to a word, and Rampage cocked his head to the side with vicious curiosity. “Come again?” he asked politely, savoring the silver-blue robot’s pain.
Depth Charge pulled himself together a bit, enough to say the word more coherently. “Why?” The demand was harsh…but somehow pleading. The question had been asked before, usually right before he attacked the killer, and Rampage had always come up with a new answer for every time, taunting the hunter with whimsical reasons, cruel intentions, and the worst part of it was that he never knew to believe them or not. He wanted an end to the game, to the teasing; wanted it so badly that he ached with guilt and the need to know why he suffered it. He was a word away from throwing himself at the crab. Just one word, if Rampage dared tease him again…
And Rampage knew it. He’d known that bringing up Omicron was bound to bring the ray to the boiling point, and he felt a kind of satisfaction that he was responsible for the slightly unhinged look in Depth Charge’s optics. The urge to shrug off the question once more, draw out the ray’s torment, was there, but the side of him that could feel things like shame realized that this time the hunter might actually listen to the answer. Why did the killer kill? Before, the hunter had been too intent on the hunt. Now, though, now…
“Why?” he asked softly, watching the ray tense, trying to find any kind of mockery in his voice. “Why NOT?”
Depth Charge’s red optics blinked, confusion creeping into his fury as he failed to find even a hint of anything but seriousness in the crab’s words. He slumped back against the screen a bit, giving Rampage a suspicious glare. The return question seemed stupid to him, but he couldn’t help but answer, “How could you possibly think that MURDER is right? You tore apart the colony like it was tissue and ask ME for a reason why NOT?!”
“Yes.” Rampage looked behind himself and sat in one of the chairs that was still intact. It was a careful, manipulative gesture to make himself look smaller, less threatening. The ray had been too angry to think of anything but physically attacking him a moment ago, but he might remember the spark-box in his hand at any point. If he decided to use it, the crab wouldn’t be able to stop him. So, he’d have to give him no reason to use it in the first place. “What exactly is ‘right,’ Depth Charge?” he asked quietly. “Was what the Center did to me ‘right’?”
The ray jerked, taken aback but the sudden shift from Omicron to their recent escape. “Uh…no, but—“
“That was what my life was like until I broke out. That kind of torture in the name of science. The only people who ever talked to me where scientists, and most of the time they just talked OVER me, like I wasn’t there,” Rampage said, still in that quiet tone of voice, the raspy baritone giving depth to remembered pain. “I have no idea how much time passed before a group of them installed a voice box in me—“
“You didn’t have a voice box?!”
Bitter emerald optics met startled ruby. “No. My body was custom made, Fish Face. The scientists added what they wanted, when they wanted, and there was nothing I could do about it. I added weaponry later when I had an opportunity to. In a way, forcing me into a statis pod helped with that. My weapons never really fit in with the rest of me until the pod redesigned my body.” He snorted and broke eye contact to look down at himself, a hint of old wonder coloring his voice. “It came as a shock to get a beast mode transformation, but dealing with a third mode was easy. The first time they redesigned me so I could transform I thought I was falling apart…”
This time Depth Charge slumped back even further. “You couldn’t transform?” he asked weakly, his anger mixing with pity.
“No.” Rampage frowned at his memories. “Or at least, not that I can remember. They talked about my spark being in three other bodies previously—“
“Previously?!” the ray interrupted again, hoping he had misheard. “You mean that there were others like you?” He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or puzzled when Rampage shook his head slowly. “Then who were they?”
The crab shrugged. “Other test subjects, I suppose. The only result that I know of is that my spark survived when the scientists destroyed their bodies, so they decided to keep me around longer.”
“Why?” Destroyed? Rampage made it sound like the scientists had disposed of garbage, not killed off three other ‘bots! Was this, perhaps, why the crab had a killer’s mind? From learning it from the scientists?
Rampage blinked at the ray and decided there was no reason NOT to tell him the answer. “Because they had done everything they could to my spark already, and they needed to start the physical tests in depth.” He waited a moment in case Depth Charge wanted to say something, then picked up the thread of the conversation. “As I said, there were three others, but my memory starts when they activated me. I never even knew that I was supposed to be a Transformer until one of the scientists brought up the idea of giving me a second mode. When they decided to start the physical endurance tests they redesigned me so I’d have a vehicle mode.”
“So you just woke up and had a transformation?” the ray hazarded.
Rampage gave him a strange look. “Woke up? Fish Face, they never knocked me out.” Shock, pity, and confused anger stared back at him from the ray’s red optics, but he merely shrugged in response. “I told you. Physical endurance tests.”
Depth Charge shifted uncomfortably, swallowing hard. “Oh. I…I thought that you meant…”
He shrugged again. “So, was it right?”
The ray stared at him for a long moment, wondering wildly if the question was some kind of joke, but Rampage just looked back at him with an expression of mild curiosity on his face. “No! Of course not!”
Rampage leaned forward in his chair. “Then I ask you again, why NOT?”
The subject had wandered so far that he had to pause and remember what the crab was talking about.
And then he didn’t know what to say.
“The first person I killed,” Rampage said slowly, in a low, almost dreamy voice, “was the intern who hadn’t secured one of my wrists tight enough. The reason I noticed it was because he had opened up my chest to work on the nerve wiring, and he tweaked the wrong one. My arm jerked…and I felt the strap holding it down loosen. The intern hadn’t noticed, and I remember working my arm free as he began welding clumsily, occasionally burning my spark so he could watch it heal. All I wanted to do was make him STOP…so I grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head into the lab table I was secured to until his neurocircuitry was scattered across the room. And for the first time,” he breathed, green optics distant, “something those scientist did actually felt GOOD. They died, and I could feel THEIR pain. THEY were the ones screaming for the agony to stop. But to me…to me, their deaths brought me to the heights of pleasure. When I found more robots, their anger made me happy. I didn’t know why they were angry at me or what I had done, but I could feel their rage, and it felt good. And when I killed them, their fear was like a drug that I couldn’t get enough of.” He sighed wistfully, seeming to return to the present, where Depth Charge gaped at him in mingled horror and anger.
“Do you understand now, Fish Face?” Rampage asked. “You want to know why I kill, and I want to know why not. Because if what the scientists did was wrong and caused me so much pain, yet no one stopped them, why should I stop what causes others pain? It brings me pleasure, so why should I stop? It’s not right, perhaps, but when has that ever mattered? The universe is not a fair and just place, despite what you want. I didn’t even know what murder WAS when I was on Omicron, Depth Charge. Could I have been considered a murderer, then? I didn’t know what I did was wrong because it was no more than what had been done to me. And you can tell me now that it’s not right, but I stopped caring long ago when I couldn’t even scream at what they were doing to me. Right and wrong are mere myths that I never had a chance to believe in, and I refuse to live my life by myths. Why, Fish Face? Because other people are nothing but experiments to me, just like I am to them. So why not?”
Depth Charge stared at the immortal robot sitting in the chair for a long, long time, his mind turning over what he had said. His first instinct had been to shout that Rampage was wrong, what he’d said COULDN’T be correct…but the ray, too, was intelligent, and that intelligence was as much a curse as a blessing. He couldn’t help but think over what Rampage had said, and the more he thought, the more confused he became. His morals met the brutal simplicity of someone who couldn’t afford to have them.
It wasn’t an experience he liked.
The worst part about it was that Depth Charge KNEW--not just thought, KNEW--deep in his spark that having morals was right, and he didn’t know what to do about it. This was Rampage sitting here in front of him! Rampage! X! The ‘bot who had murdered Omicron…without knowing that it was murder, his mind added reluctantly before he could regain his righteous fury at the killer and ignore everything he’d said. So he could only look at Rampage helplessly, the words he needed hovering just out of reach.
Not that he thought they’d do much good. What was the point of discussing ethics with a monster? But this monster had been made by monsters, and despite all the rough edges and harshness he showed to the universe, Depth Charge was a Maximal. He had to try…something. For no reason other than to spite the utter disdain in Rampage’s voice when he’d spoken of things the ray believed in.
Across the bridge, Rampage shifted in his chair, then got up abruptly. He gave Depth Charge an even look when the ray’s hand tightened on his spark-box. “Since there seems to be little use for me here, I’ll be in my quarters if you need me,” he said with mocking courtesy, referring to the room he’d been using to recharge in. He turned and headed for the exit.
Depth Charge watched him go, but cleared his throat. The crab glanced back at him, and the silver-blue robot tried to keep his voice indifferent. “Do you know why Rattrap and I brought you along when we broke out of the Center?”
This time the ray had been the one to change the topic unpredictably. “No…” the killer said warily, wondering where this could lead.
“Because it was right,” Depth Charge said softly. “And you’re more than an experiment.”
Rampage’s optics went wide in surprise, but Depth Charge quickly turned his back to start working on the console again. He felt a vague kind of victory that the crab was on the other side of the verbal war they seemed to be in, but, more than that, he felt satisfaction when the thoughtful silence at his back remained unbroken by any sort of argument as the other robot’s footsteps retreated off the bridge. Either Rampage had shrugged it off, or he was actually thinking it over.
Whatever. At least he could repair this console in peace, which gave him time to think about what the slag they were going to do. The supply of energon they had would only last so long. It had been meant for an entire crew, but the crew had been living off of it before now, too.
Those blasted scientists! If they hadn’t locked away Rampage’s mind for so long, he’d be more helpful right now. But he simply didn’t know enough about the repairs to do…to do…
Depth Charge paused and narrowed his optics, pursuing the thought. It skittered on the edges of his mind, staying just out of sight. Something about…Rampage didn’t KNOW enough. It wasn’t a lack of intelligence, but a lack of knowledge. So maybe—
His optics narrowed even further.
--that could be taught. All Depth Charge would have to find was some of the repair guides! Surely ALL the computers weren’t missing as many files as the one he was working on, and if he could find anything to do with the most basic repairs, Rampage could work from that.
He got up and started to stride across the bridge to check another computer, but his next thought brought him up short:
Rampage didn’t have a download jack.
That was part of the reason he couldn’t help with the reprogramming. Most of the programming codes were redone by connecting the robot mind and computer, launching the robot into a 3D cyberworld where the work could be done easily. But the connection was made using a download jack located in most Transformers’ wrists or temples, and Rampage had mentioned that the scientists had custom-built his body. Apparently they hadn’t felt their experiment would ever have a need to use one, and the statis pod hadn’t given him one…
Frustrated, Depth Charge stopped in the middle of the room and looked around at the shattered computers. There was no way in the Pit that he’d ever be able to repair everything by himself before they ran out of energon, and if Rampage couldn’t download the manuals, he wouldn’t be able to learn how to help, so—
He glanced around again, and this time his optics caught on something.
Rampage was trying not to think anymore. Instead, he was sitting in a chair by the table counting ceiling tiles when Depth Charge gave the door a knock and opened the door without waiting for an answer. The crab snapped upright in his chair and started to snarl something about privacy being an option, but then he saw what Depth Charge was carrying in his hands.
Datapads. Six or seven of the little datapads used for transferring information, distributing orders, and entertainment. He couldn’t imagine why the ray was dumping them on the table in front of him, and for a moment he could only blink at them in mild bemusement. “What in the Matrix?”
Depth Charge stepped back, attempting to smother his sense of glee and replace it with a slightly more serious attitude. “You don’t have a download jack. Fine. There’s nothing I can do about that. But you CAN read, so there’s no reason that you can’t learn manually how to repair the computers and reprogram them.”
Rampage’s face went blank with astonishment. “But I…I told you, I still don’t know what a lot of words mean—“
Another datapad got thumped down on the table. “I found a dictionary for you. If you have questions about anything else, I’m sure that I can answer them.”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to make his mind work. “But I—“
“I found these, too,” among the crew’s belongings, but they didn’t need them anymore. “They’re books. Classics from at least five different planets. You can practice reading by going through them.” Three more datapads joined the pile, and Depth Charge couldn’t help but feel smug at how stunned the crab looked at the moment. Not only had he been forced to admit how little he knew, but now he’d have to try and catch up. This was obviously not what Rampage had expected, in any way, shape, or form!
“But I—“
“I can’t repair everything by myself,” Depth Charge once again interrupted to say. The urge to laugh at the crab dissipated as he remembered how he had arrived at this solution. “You have to be able to help me, and this is the only way to show you how to do anything besides taking the time to do it myself. We don’t have that time. And since you’re just sitting around anyway…”
That earned a glare. “I’m not—“
The ray cut him off again. “There’s nothing that can justify what those scientists did to you,” he said quietly, “but I’m not one of them. I can think of several good reasons not to be doing this, and the only reason I am is because I need to get to Rarmet. If you don’t want to do this, that’s your choice, but then don’t talk about what they did to you when you’re doing it to yourself.” He turned and walked out of the room again, leaving the crab to stare after him.
Rampage continued to gaze in that direction for a time, but eventually he looked down at the datapads on the table.
Perhaps Depth Charge…just this once…
He picked one up and turned it on curiously. A dictionary, hmm?
…was right.