Rampage came online to find himself strapped to a tab, arms at his sides.
"Wha-?" Disoriented, he tugged at the bonds, only to find that someone had made sure to make them strong enough to hold him. In the process, however, he did make one very important discovery. The table he was on wasn’t a normal table. In fact, it was more of a reinforced platform, and a chill went through him as he realized what it really was.
It was a heavy-duty lab table.
Looking around the room while taking a break from straining against the restraints, Rampage only saw white. High white walls met white flooring topped by a white ceiling. His memory supplied the reason why the place looked so familiar: most research and dissection labs looked like this. He had been in enough of them to recognize the his sterilized surroundings, and to identify certain features as what they were and not what they appeared to be.
Along one wall, there was a long mirror. He knew it was a one-way mirror, with the other side being a window. One the other side, there was probably a room full of observers watching him or waiting for whatever would happen next. With that in mind, he deliberately looked away from it. Why give them a show if he had a choice?
Searching the ceiling, he noticed the lights. From experience, he knew that they swung down to light up the area more clearly, but they also allowed a variety of instruments and tools used by the scientists to descend from the ceiling. He wondered briefly if all research facilities had the same equipment.
He pushed the thoughts of what that equipment could do away. He turned his head as a door opened in the white wall opposite of the mirror. A familiar figure walking into the room, and Rampage had to suppress a shudder.
"Hello, Dr. Kilju," he said hoarsely. "I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but I’d be lying." Keep it RESPECTFUL, he reminded himself. Admiral Jirex’s warning and threat were still fresh in his mind, although he had no idea how long he’d been offline.
The doctor ignored him, but that was typical. Dr. Kilju never had acknowledged him as a sentient being. His favorite phrase when his colleagues had been teaching Protoform X how to speak had been, "You can teach him to mimic his betters, but that doesn’t make him one of us." It didn’t look like his opinion about Rampage had changed at all.
Aide robots, moving parts of the artificial intelligence computer system installed in every standard research institute, came out of the white walls, ready to do the doctor’s bidding. The tall, moderately-sized blue transformer walked up to where Rampage lay on the table. There was hatred in his optics, but his voice was level. With a calm smile, he began speaking for the benefit of the speakers, recording his words for later use in documentation and study.
"The experiment, Protoform X, has been recovered. Second lab in progress."
Second? Rampage stared up at the doctor in puzzled horror. When had the first lab been done?!
Dr. Kilju beckoned the lights down from the ceiling and focused the beams on Rampage’s chest. "This lab objective is to find and test the most effective controlling device possible over the Protoform to prevent unacceptable behavior. The first crude device was, unfortunately, destroyed. The second, built out of necessity by the Maximals, has been removed, and the Protoform’s spark was rejoined in the first lab."
Oh. Rampage closed his eyes for a second and realized his spark WAS whole. It was a strange feeling, after so long. Not strange enough for him to notice right away, but now that his attention was drawn to it he definitely noticed! He had grown accustomed to having his spark split in two...
But why had they fused his spark back together if they wanted to control him? He thought over Jirex’s and Kilju’s words with dread. Jirex had said the scientists would dissect his spark core, and Kilju had just said something about controlling devices. He frowned as he reopened his eyes. Dr. Kilju was steadying something that had just descended from the ceiling.
Above his chest there was something that resembled a tiny hand-gun. As a faint whine filled the air, Rampage changed his comparison. The thing above his chest resembled a tiny hand-LASER, or, more specifically, a laser scapula.
The small red bar of light at the end of the barrel would cut through anything, even a spaceship’s outer hull. But as the laser descended, he realized it wouldn’t need to cut through that much armor. In fact, it just needed to cut through his.
Dr. Kilju continued lowering the laser until it was just above the area he wanted to begin. "Because the effects won’t be as easy to observe if the Protoform is offline, I’ve chosen to keep the experiment online during the lab. I’ll make the first incision along the pla--"
"No!" Rampage yelled, struggling violently. His efforts didn’t bring any more results than his previous tries, but his yelling did have the side effect of covering up Dr. Kilju’s narration. The doctor’s eyes narrowed, and for a short time he attempted to speak above the noise. It didn’t work.
He shut the laser off. "Computer, shut off recording devices and sound proof the room." The computer beeped in compliance, and Rampage’s yelling tapered off as the doctor patiently looked at him.
Depth Charge stood in front of the window, looking through it into the room. "What is he doing, Sir?" He watched the placid Dr. Kilju, who he had met before the doctor started the lab, bend over Rampage, his lips barely moving as he spoke. No sound reached the ray-bot where he stood, and he idly wondered why the doctor had sound-proofed the room.
The other transformer in the room, Admiral Jirex, smiled from beside him.
"Reasoning with the Protoform, probably," he said, chuckling as if from some secret joke. "After all, he can’t describe the lab for later use if the experiment’s yelling and carrying on during it."
Something nagged at the back of Depth Charge’s mind, but he ignored it for the moment. Instead, he let another thought come forward. "Why is this lab even being done while Rampage is online, Sir? It’d be just as simple to work on his spark while he’s offline, and then test it when he’s online, wouldn’t it?"
Admiral Jirex stiffened. "Surely you’re not objecting to the Protoform suffering a little pain, are you, Depth Charge?" he asked icily. "It’s only payment for what he’s done."
Depth Charge nodded, hesitating only fractionally. He turned back to the window. "Payback," he muttered to himself.
"Now you listen," the doctor told him softly, and Rampage stayed silent out of astonishment that Dr. Kilju was actually TALKING to him. Not AT him, TO him! "We can do this the hard way, or the harder way."
"Wonderful choices," Rampage finally croaked.
Dr. Kilju frowned and beckoned an Aide robot over to him. He lifted something out of its storage bin. "You can voluntarily submit to this, or I can remove your ability to speak completely. Your choice." He displayed the object, and Rampage gasped in shock. It was, simply put, a gag. But most gags were easy to remove if you had your hands free.
However, criminal (or insane) robots couldn’t be trusted with those types of gags because they often didn’t need or even have hands to use to get loose, so some transformer somewhere had invented this type of gag. It was specially made for transformers. It clamped onto the robot’s voice box and neutralized it, and it was controlled only by remote. It wasn’t possible to just rip it off, because it would tear out the voice box it was attached to before letting go.
"How is that better than just taking my voice box out?" Rampage asked.
The doctor smiled slightly. "It’s not permanent." He held the gag out again. "Take it or leave it, X."
Rampage stared up at him in helpless anger and hostility. Finally, he forced himself to nod. Dr. Kilju was right, in his own sick way; it wasn’t permanent. Triumphantly, the doctor fastened the gag on, and the crab glared at him in silent hatred the whole time.
Returning to his normal behavior, the doctor signaled for the computer to restore the sound and recording. "...once the armor is out of the way, the spark will be easily accessible. The problem will be to keep the Protoform’s armor open as its rapid healing will affect the incision right away, as noted in the previous lab. Note to self: arrange for testing of the experiments healing ability later," Rampage didn’t like the sound of any of this, but THAT did NOT bode well for him. Dr. Kilju continued making careful adjustments to the laser scapula as he prepared to begin. "When the spark is exposed, I will then proceed in cutting out the core, testing for the most effective bit of spark."
He nodded and tapped a button on the scapula. "Beginning incision...now."
Depth Charge flinched as he watched Dr. Kilju work. Rampage’s body was arched back as far as he could in the restraints as he writhed in pain, and his face was a mask of unrelenting agony. The ray-bot was sure that the screams that should have been coming out of the crab’s gaping mouth would have shattered the mirror he was standing in front of, but the gag the doctor had somehow convinced him to wear was doing its job. Not a whisper of the torment Rampage was going through was heard, and Dr. Kilju continued his narration in his bland, monotone voice.
And Rampage was enduring such torture while the doctor actually worked at a separate table. The core of his spark was there, while the rest of it shimmered in suffering inside the half-healed cut in his chest as Dr. Kilju slowly pared away at his spark core, tested, and compared results from the previous testing.
This wasn’t payback. Depth Charge’s revenge shouldn’t be like this. He had wanted to put the crab through pain, yes, but not even Rampage deserved this! He checked the time and winced. He hadn’t realized it was so late. He would have to leave soon in order to check in with Rattrap.
For some reason, his roommate insisted that he know where the ray-bot went and when he would return. Depth Charge had relented and gone along with the rat just to calm him down. Something about the A.L.H. Research Center was making Rattrap paranoid, and Depth Charge didn’t know enough about the place to give answers to the questions about lost ships and crews he kept asking about. And, really, some of the rat’s paranoia was rubbing off on him. He had asked some of the security team people some of Rattrap’s questions, and he hadn’t gotten a straight answer...not once...
Depth Charge shook off his thoughts and looked over at Admiral Jirex. Something about Jirex was really bothering him. Come to think of it, the same thing was bothering him about Dr. Kilju. Neither of them ever called Rampage anything other than ‘Protoform X’, ‘the experiment’, or something like that. They never referred to him by his name. In fact, they didn’t seem to regard him as a person at all! They even discouraged others from calling him ‘Rampage’!
Looking at Dr. Kilju, Depth Charge considered his behavior. Except for putting the gag on him, the doctor hadn’t spoken to Rampage. He didn’t seem to acknowledge the crab as anything lab work. And Admiral Jirex...
He glanced sidelong at the thin red transformer. There was a strange expression on his face as he watched Dr. Kilju work and Rampage silently scream. It was almost as if...he enjoyed it...
The ray-bot sighed. He was being paranoid. Rattrap must be rubbing off on him more than he had thought. Depth Charge had read the available files on Admiral Jirex and Dr. Kilju, and although there WAS a lot missing, it seemed that he wasn’t the only one whose life had been destroyed by Rampage. Maybe they deserved to celebrate their revenge.
"Sir, I have to leave for now," Depth Charge said. When Jirex gave him an absent nod, he turned and left the room. He could have sworn he heard someone laughing behind the door as he walked down the corridor. Jirex? The ray-bot hesitated and almost stopped, but then he determinedly walked away. He was just paranoid.
Maybe he could trade roommates. Cheetor had one of the star ship’s crew as a roomie. He’d probably like to room with Depth Charge...
He met Optimus, Rhinox, and Cheetor when he got back on the Cutting Edge. The cheetah ran to greet him, happy as always to see him. Depth Charge looked ceiling-ward and sighed dramatically as the cat slid to a stop in front of him. Optimus and Rhinox laughed as they continued towards them at a more sedate pace.
"Hey! What’s new with you, DC?" Cheetor asked. He itched behind his ear with his paw and talked on before the ray-bot could say a word. "We’re going down to tour the Center! Ultra gear, huh? I’m gonna go claim a good seat in the shuttle!" With that, he raced past, leaving Depth Charge blinking after him. Maybe he WOULDN’T switch roommates...
He turned as the other Maximals walked up. "Cabin fever?"
Optimus chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that. We have no idea how long this will take, though, so we might be just as eager to get back!"
Rhinox snorted. "Not likely. I think I’m going to ask if they’ll let me stay down there." He shook his head. "I’m going to go crazy without anything new to do!" There was a crash down the corridor. "Optimus, I know you have business with Depth Charge," he said tactfully, "so I’ll just go see what Cheetor’s done now..." He half-jogged away.
Optimus watched him go with a smile, but it died when he looked back down at Depth Charge. "How did it go?" he asked softly.
"It..." Depth Charge struggled for words, but let a pent-up breath out when he could find any. "I don’t know," he admitted.
"You don’t know?" Optimus echoed in surprise.
He shrugged awkwardly. "I-I wanted revenge, but not like that!" he finally burst out. "That was just torture!" Optimus opened his mouth to ask what could have shaken the ray-bot this badly, but Depth Charge beat him to it. "Dr. Kilju is carving up Rampage’s spark looking for the most pain-producing part, and he was STILL working when I left!"
Optimus sighed. "It’s out of our hands now, Depth Charge," he said.
"There’s nothing--"
"--I can do." Captain Venara stood up. "The best you can do is work with the security teams and make sure Rampage doesn’t get loose." She shrugged. "Perhaps this was just a necessary thing that had to be done in order to insure Rampage WON’T get loose again."
Depth Charge considered that and nodded slowly. "Yeah, that would explain it." Causing pain like that made him feel like someone like Rampage, and he REALLY did not like that feeling. But if it prevented carnage like what happened inside this very ship...
She smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry. The Center has this all under control. I’m sure the rest of the tests won’t be like that."
When they threw him into the cell, all Rampage could do was whimper silently and curl into a ball. The pain wouldn’t let him do anything else. Curling up didn’t help the spark-deep agony go away, but his instincts insisted that the defensive position would eventually stop the pain in his chest. It wouldn’t, but Rampage was past rational thinking, which would have told him that.
At least he could curl up. They hadn’t chained him to the wall or something like that. Of course, there wasn’t any need to. He had dimly realized that the door he had been dragged through was almost as thick as he was, and it was the thinnest point! A transformation lock AND field in the room prevented him from even trying to ram the door down in his tank mode.
Thoses thought ran around in the back of his mind as the rest of him revolved around the empty, torn, spark that pulsed with the agony of the abuse done to it in his chest.
37 times. 37 times Dr. Kilju tested and retested in his search for his objective. Rampage had counted. He hadn’t had a choice. Each time Dr. Kilju had touched the core of his spark, Rampage had shuddered with jagged spears of pain.
37 times Rampage’s spark had been violated.
37 times he had dragged himself back from the brink of begging Dr. Kilju to stop, and he found he was actually glad for the gag, which had stopped the pathetic whimpers and screams that had been forced out of him.
37 times. Nothing Rampage had even gone through had been like this. If he had done it to someone else, Dr. Kilju would have been seen as a monster. Instead, he’d be hailed as a great scientist.
37 times. He’d remember that number for the rest of his life. It had been carved out of his spark.
37 times.