Depth Charge’s arrival in the Beast Wars was more of a blessing than the Maximals originally realized. A tracking beacon in the ray-bot’s Star Hopper allowed the Maximal starship Cutting Edge to follow him through the time warp and find the stranded Maximals.

Naturally, this was bad news for the Predacons. Unable to fight against an entire starship and crew, the Predacons surrendered one by one. Waspinator was first, with Quickstrike right behind. Inferno was destroyed in a failed effort to rescue ‘The Royalty’ after Megatron was captured. Tarantulas fought to the bitter end, convinced that death was better than what the Tripedeacus Council would do to him. TM2 Dinobot was lured into a trap, but attempted to fight loose. During the fighting he copied a move by his former self and overrided his stasis lock. He became so damaged that the Maximal medics were unable to save him. They were, however, able to secure the part of his spark that was Rampage’s. The crab was forced to surrender soon after.

Now the Maximals and Predacons were on their way home...

Depth Charge knew he should be happy. With Rampage captured and on his way to justice, the ray-bot should have been practically dancing with joy. Unfortunately, the latest orders were making him very UNhappy. "This is unacceptable!" he almost shouted, slamming a datapad containing the orders down on Captain Venara’s desk. He had just burst into her office, carried away with his anger.

Cutting Edge’s captain looked up at the fuming robot calmly but sternly. "They may not be acceptable to YOU, but they are my orders," she said firmly. She didn’t even have to glance at the datapad to know what he was talking about. When she had gotten the orders, she had known they would cause trouble. And not just with Depth Charge...

Captain Venara pushed those thoughts away to deal with later. "Depth Charge, I understand your frustration--"

"Obviously you don’t!" he hissed, leaning forward and interrupting her. "Putting Rampage away in this," he paused to remember the name, "A.L.H. Research Center isn’t a way to deal with him! He needs to be destroyed, not studied! Those scientists won’t know how to restrain him or something, and he’ll get loose again!" Depth Charge looked ready to rant on, but the Captain gave him a cold look.

"Do you even know what the A.L.H Research Center is?" she asked softly. Depth Charge gave a grudging negative, and Captain Venara sighed in exasperation. "It’s a high security facility with joint operation between the Predacons and Maximals. It’s so top secret I wasn’t even aware it existed until a briefing was given to me." She gave him another cool look. "No one but you and my Executive Officer have been informed of these orders, by the way. The security is that tight."

"Oh." Depth Charge’s eyes narrowed. "But, still--"

She calmly continued, "I’ve already sent your report and recommendations about restraining techniques and such to the Center, and they’ve assured me that they will be used and improved as necessary. Besides," she smiled unpleasantly, "we have a piece of Rampage’s spark, and we’ve already proven how effectively THAT can be used to control him."

For a moment Depth Charge’s smile matched hers. When Dinobot had been destroyed, Rampage had hidden. Apparently the raptor’s death had been an...unpleasant...experience for the crab, and he had needed time to recover from the shock. Time that none of the vengeful Maximals had been willing to give him. They had set up something similar to what Megatron had used with his spark, and the pain had driven Rampage to seek them out.

He had come to them, but even then Rampage had tried to free himself. He had drawn his missile launcher, and Depth Charge, who had been the one holding the ‘spark-box’, had crushed it. Since no one would accept that Rampage had surrendered until he made it completely clear, the crab had been forced to kneel and raise his hands in a time-honored gesture of surrender. Only then did Depth Charge let up on the pressure on his spark.

Still...

"Why isn’t he going to be destroyed?" Depth Charge asked more quietly.

Captain Venara’s eyes were sympathetic, but her voice was flat. "I don’t know. That wasn’t included in my briefing. All I know is that Cutting Edge is to deliver Rampage to the A.L.H. Research Center and then await further orders from the facility." She picked up the datapad she had been reading when Depth Charge had burst into her office. "Those are my orders, and I will obey them. Dismissed."

Depth Charge reluctantly came to attention, saluted, and walked out of the office. She WAS the captain, after all. She could have him thrown into the brig for insubordination if he argued further. That didn’t make him any happier, though, and Depth Charge strode off angrily as the door closed behind him.

In her office, Captain Venara remained staring at the data in front of her, but she wasn’t reading it. She was thinking.

She hadn’t told Depth Charge who the orders were from. She hadn’t thought it a good idea to tell him the Maximal High Council and the Tripedeacus Council were both cooperating to maneuver the Cutting Edge to this A.L.H Research Center. Why? Well, she thought there was a lot more than just Rampage to this. The entire operation was top secret! There was no logical reason for at least the recovered Maximals’ presence to be hidden! Didn’t they have anxious friends waiting back on Cybertron?

And then there were the rumors. Venara hadn’t been totally honest when she had told Depth Charge she hadn’t known anything about the Center. She had...sort of. Until now, she had thought it just a rumor. Good captains paid attention to rumors about areas where ships and their crews disappeared. Well, not all of them had disappeared permanently, but the ones who had eventually appeared again had no memory of where they had been...

And now it seemed that her ship was entering that same area. Captain Venara of the Maximal starship Cutting Edge straightened her shoulders and sighed. She had her orders, and she had to obey them.

She didn’t have a choice.

Rampage shifted and tried to settle into a more comfortable position. In the cramped cell he was confined in it was a hard task, especially since he was standing up. Not that he was allowed to move around freely in his cell. No, he was chained to the wall, denied even that small freedom.

Freedom. He shifted again, anger and desperation filling him at the thought of that. Most beings took it for granted. Rampage...his freedom had been brief. He had come online in a lab, treated as nothing more than a dangerous lab experiment. The Maximals, for all their much-valued ‘goodness’, had done things to him that even Predacons like Megatron and Tarantulas would have refused to do, and all in the name of science. After all, how were they supposed to find out if their experiment was immortal if they didn’t test his immortality?

Rampage shuddered in remembered pain, glad that he didn’t have memories from when he was just a spark. The tests done on him when he had been conscious and had a body had been horrible enough, but the ones done on him before then...he had heard enough about them to make himself sick. He was immortal...but at such a price of pain! It was no wonder he wanted to make the universe suffer like he had! Still, if what Depth Charge had been telling him all along was right, Rampage wouldn’t be immortal for long. Strange, he hadn’t actually ever thought of dying...

The door to Rampage’s cell slid open then, and Depth Charge stepped in, carrying Rampage’s spark in its little box. He looked willing and ready to use it. Rampage’s eyes narrowed in hate, but he also felt a faint sense of shame, and he looked away from his enemy. Having anyone see him like this was bad enough, but Depth Charge...

The ray-bot walked over to glare at him. "You should be happy," the Maximal said in a disgusted voice. "You’re not going to be executed after all."

Rampage glared back, but refused to be baited. If there was any shred of dignity left in this situation, he was going to salvage it. He would NOT ask what Depth Charge meant like some pathetic, weak-willed bot.

After a moment of mutual hate-filled looks, the Maximal continued, "We have orders to bring you to a research center for study."

Despite himself, Rampage’s eyes widened in surprise. More than surprise; shock. After the slaughter he had left in his wake, he hadn’t even thought about the possibility of being brought back to the endless tests and experiments. Now, as he did think about it, he didn’t like the thought. Sure, he would be alive to try to escape again, but...

Depth Charge sneered as Rampage’s mind looked over the consequences of the orders. "I’m going to do my best to make sure you NEVER escape again," he snarled. "Who knows? The facility might end up assigning me to keep guard over you." With that, he whirled around and stomped out of the cell.

Rampage was left behind, still thinking over what might happen. Another research center. More tests. The freedom of a lab rat. No one to fear him, no one to torture, no one to kill. Pain; inflicted on him, not on others. And he...would be just an experiment again. That had been one of the worst parts of his early life. At least when he had been out slaughtering people, they had seen him as someONE, not someTHING. In the labs...

He shivered again at his memories. He didn’t precisely FEAR what might happen, but he did have a certain...dread...for the future. Whatever happened, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good for him.

Depth Charge strode down a corridor to his quarters, fuming to himself. The rare crew person who encountered him got out of his way. He looked absolutely furious.

He stormed into his quarters, startling his roommate to no end. "Eh! What’s da big idea--" Rattrap began angrily.

Depth Charge ignored his protest at his entrance. "We’re not going to Cybertron, mouse, " he said.

"Huh?" Rattrap’s eyes narrowed. "Why’s dat?"

The ray-bot sat down at their table and sighed tiredly. "Apparently Rampage is going to become a research project again instead of being executed like he should be, and this ship’s been chosen to take him to the facility." He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands.

Rattrap watched him. "Dis is not good," he grumbled to himself. "Well, how long ‘til we get dere?" he asked more audibly. "Will dis take dat long?"

Depth Charge shook his head, still resting it in his hands. "I don’t know. We’re supposed to stay in orbit around the facility until we get further orders, and no one’s told me when we arrive there."

His room mate mulled that over. "Hmph. What’s da name of dis place?"

"A.L.H. Research Center." Depth Charge looked up at a startled exclamation from Rattrap. "What?"

For a moment, Rattrap stared at him, and his face showed fear. Then it was over, and he looked away. When he looked back, his face had settled into grim lines.

"What?!" the ray-bot in exasperation.

Rattrap laughed bitterly. "It’s like I’ve been sayin’ da whole time; we’re all gonna die."

And he refused to say anything more on the subject.

Captain Venara looked at the moon in her viewscreen and shuddered. Orbital defenses and small attack ships filled the orbit of the joint Predacon/Maximal owned moon, and from the attitude of the orders she had received from the commanding CO of the operation, they were all more than a little trigger-happy.

With good cause, mostly. Half of those defenses were aimed at the moon itself. The A.L.H. Research Center took up most of the moon, and there was a reason for the amount of space they had. If one experiment went rogue, the defense systems could destroy that part of the Center. And apparently they had just had to do that, except that the ‘experiment’ was already half-way off the planet when they targeted it.

Venara didn’t know what it had been, but by the general jumpiness of the crews on the defense grid, it had been big and dangerous, and had almost gotten to them. Their nervousness was understandable.

Unfortunately, understanding wasn’t the same as being comfortable, and Captain Venara was VERY uncomfortable. She looked at her orders again and sighed. The Cutting Edge was being assigned to the Center for the time being. With all those defenses she could see, it was obvious that the facility didn’t need any more protection. Why else would the starship be ordered to stay here, though?

Several answers suggested themselves to Venara as she stood up. None of them were good.

"Welcome aboard, Admiral Jirex, Sir." Captain Venara saluted the whip-thin, red-colored transformer who had just walked on board her ship from the transport shuttle. He gave her a thin smile, but didn’t return her salute. He seemed to enjoy her discomfort at the lack of military protocol.

She awkwardly lowered her arm. "Um, do you wish to see the prisoners now, Sir?" she asked.

His smile widened. "Just one prisoner," he said. "X."

"Ah. In that case, shall we proceed to Sub-Level C, Sir? That’s where we put him." Venara stood aside courteously, allowing him to walk beside her. "You should know, Sir," she said gravely, "that Depth Charge is very upset about the decision to make Rampage a scientific project again."

He gave her a sharp look. "Rampage?"

"It’s what X is known by, now, Sir."

The thin transformer’s eyes were hard and cold. "X," he stressed, "is nothing but an experiment. He doesn’t have a name, he has a label." He waited until Venara nodded unwillingly before continuing. "And as for this...Depth Charge. What exactly does he think we should do with X?"

"Execute him," came a voice from ahead of them. Depth Charge was leaning against the wall outside Rampage’s cell, looking tense and angry. "He deserves to die. Sir," he added belatedly.

The Admiral nodded. "I see," he said thoughtfully. He gave the ray-bot a considering look. "I see," he repeated. Then he turned to the door Depth Charge was guarding. "This is it?"

Captain Venara nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Do you have that...spark-box you referred to in your report?" He held out his hand as Depth Charge nodded. "Give it to me, please, and open the door."

"You’re going in, Sir?" Depth Charge frowned. "Just a second, I’ll radio for more guards--"

"No," Admiral Jirex said. "I’ll go in alone."

Depth Charge seemed about to object again. His experiences with higher management was that they were reluctant to see pain in person. If Rampage saw an opportunity, he’d use it.

At the last second, however, the ray-bot looked in Admiral Jirex’s eyes and recoiled. Something hard and cruel was looking back out at him. He wordlessly handed over the spark-box and keyed the door open.

The Admiral walked inside, and the door closed behind him.

Rampage looked up from his consideration of his chains when the door opened. Someone walked in, and Rampage squinted against the light pouring into the cell. He couldn’t see the person’s features. He leaned to the side a little, trying to see at an angle to the light.

He froze in mid-motion as the door closed.

"Hello, X," the thin transformer said. His smile was unpleasant.

Rampage swallowed hard. "Captain Jirex," he said faintly. "What a nice surprise. And here I though you were dead."

That brought a grimace to Jirex’s face. "I’m an Admiral, now," he said haughtily. "The Admiral in charge of this sector of space, in fact. And obviously I’m not dead."

"Too bad."

Jirex’s lips twisted in a snarl, and he lifted his hand. Rampage’s eyes widened at the sight of his spark in the box the Maximals had made. Jirex smiled again at his expression, and he studied the box contemptuously.

"I was informed at how well this thing works on you," he mentioned. "I hear the scientists down at the Center are drooling over the design and the possibilities of enhancing the effects. Of course, there will have to be experiments and lab work done, so I will probably miss seeing when they start probing and cutting apart your spark core for that fragment of you that will make you the easiest to control. That’s too bad, but I’ll take comfort at the thought of your pain." The unpleasant smile was growing as Rampage flinched at the description of the fate for him.

If it had hurt when Megatron had done it, how much more would THIS hurt?!

"Still," Admiral Jirex mused, "I find that I am curious about how this little thing works against someone as large as you." The smile was downright cruel, now. "Let’s find out, shall we?" Before Rampage could protest, he crushed the spark in his grip.

Rampage screamed in agony as jagged spears of pain seemed to rip through his very being. Jirex let him suffer, watching in amused cruelty as he weakened steadily until only the chains held him upright. Then he released his tight grip.

Breathing raggedly, Rampage glared hatred at Jirex. "I swear I’ll kill you so slowly you’ll--"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Admiral Jirex admonished him. "You’ll keep a civil, in fact, RESPECTFUL tone around me, or..." he paused dramatically.

Rampage sneered, still swaying with the after affects of the spark-deep pain he had just gone through. "Or what?"

The expression on his face was beyond gloating and cruel. "Or I’ll just have to talk with my good friend Dr. Kilju, who just happens to be in charge of your project now thanks to your slaughter of his colleagues." Rampage’s expression of horrified disbelief must have amused Jirex immensely, because he broke into peals of laughter. "That’s right! Your favorite," he stressed the word sarcastically, "doctor is the only surviving doctor with experience with dealing with you, therefore, he’s been promoted! And if you don’t learn to speak to me with the respect I deserve, well then," he leaned forward menacingly, "I’ll just recommend to my doctor friend that you don’t speak at all."

"No..." Rampage stared at him in stunned denial.

Jirex nodded. "Yes. After all, why does an EXPERIMENT need a voice box? I seem to recall the project doing just fine without you needing a voice for, oh, quite a long time after you were brought online. Perhaps it would be easier if the project went back to that. Hmm?"

Rampage’s eyes were about ready to take over his face. Things were happening too fast! Jirex was ALIVE, and so was Kilju, and now they were both in positions of extreme power over him!

Admiral Jirex smirked. "What do you think of that idea, X?"

There was a pause, and then Rampage closed his eyes in defeat. "I’d really rather not...Sir," he said in a strained voice. Jirex laughed in satisfied pleasure and turned to go. Rampage stayed behind, fuming with hatred and, just possibly, something that might have been called fear.

Threatening to remove his voice box had been beyond a low blow by the Admiral. Jirex knew how much he had been elated when the scientists in charge of his project had deemed it necessary that he get one, and they had overruled people like Dr. Kilju in the process. The then-Protoform X had been ecstatic when he was finally allowed to start speaking like all the scientists he had seen around him. He had ALMOST felt something other than hate for them, then.

Of course, talking hadn’t been all that easy, as X had stuttered and struggled to say and pronounce words he had only heard before. That just made him seem even less like a sentient being in the eyes of the scientists around him, for they had to train him to speak before he understood the language. He never really had learned anything more than the basics he needed to use to live his life...

Still, it had been a taste of freedom that had made him crave for more, until he finally broke loose. By threatening to take that small, but extremely essential, freedom away, Jirex had just emphasized how much power he had over Rampage.

Depth Charge and Captain Venara snapped to attention when Admiral Jirex emerged from the cell.

He turned to Venara. "Please escort the prisoner to my shuttle at the earliest available time. There are guards on board who will take him from there. The other prisoners will be taken down to the facility at a later time."

Venara nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Jirex then looked at Depth Charge. "Now, I would like you to be available to my Security Teams. They’ll be the ones setting up X’s new containment area, and I’d like your input." He waited until the ray-bot nodded in acceptance, and then continued, "Perhaps if you are needed, you might join one of the Teams...at a later date, of course."

Captain Venara cleared her throat. "What about the other Maximals we rescued, Sir?" she inquired. "They’re probably not that happy with having their return to Cybertron delayed."

"Yes," Jirex mused. "Well, they’ll have to live with it while this ship is staying here. If they get too impatient, they can always come take a tour of the Research Center. I hear it’s fascinating." He glanced around at the corridor. "This isn’t exactly the best place to be talking over future plans, though. Is there some other area we could go to?"

"My office is this way if you’d like to follow me, Sir," Venara said. They walked off.

Admiral Jirex chatted calmly as they walked, but his mind was simmering with gloating delight. X was in his grasp again!

Jirex was one of those people who would tear apart the galaxy or anyone in his quests for revenge. That was what really got him promoted to his current rank. The A.L.H. Research Center had needed an Admiral who was ruthless enough to not care what was happening in the facility.

Now Jirex did care. He cared quite a lot, in fact. The Protoform X project would have gotten him killed if he hadn’t been lucky enough to be assigned courier duty for a certain doctor at the time. He had been away from the original facility when X had gotten loose, so he had survived.

So had the doctor he had been assigned with. Doctor Kilju had also been promoted after the incident, and now he was the only surviving expert on the Protoform X project. When the news that the experiment had been captured again reached High Command, the doctor had been brought into the project once more.

Dr. Kilju and Admiral Jirex were thrilled at the opportunity to get their hands on X again. He had ruined their lives and their jobs at the time, but now they held direct influence over what would happen to him, and the government didn’t care. X probably cared, though.

The doctor and then-Captain had been X’s most hated enemies, and they had loved it. They had liked to participate in the most painful and humiliating of the tests on him, and they, as a team, had been the ones most against treating the Protoform as anything really sentient. It hadn’t been anything personal at the time; they just liked to have power over someone. It was personal now.

X had been sure the two had been destroyed in the general collapse of the original facility. He had thought it was a pity; he had wanted to kill them slowly, a piece at a time, with his own hands. The thought that his chief tormentors were dead comforted him, however.

Rampage straightened in his chains as the door opened again. This time, the light was blocked by figures armed to the teeth, headed by one particular figure.

"Let’s go," Depth Charge snarled. The other guards in the escort fanned out in the hallway and the room, training their weapons on Rampage. Depth Charge himself held the crab’s spark-box, and another two guards cautiously walked forward to unlock the chains from the wall.

Rampage stood quietly as they worked, staring at Depth Charge with hatred in his eyes. When the chains finally came loose, he did as he was told and walked out of the room and into a circle of armed guards, keeping his eyes on the ray-bot.

The armed escort quickly moved along the corridors, bringing him to his next destination--the transport shuttle. Depth Charge was slightly uneasy with Rampage’s unexpected compliance, but saw how the crab was looking at the spark-box in his hand. Perhaps he just wanted to avoid more pain...

The escort stopped at the shuttle as they were met by the shuttle’s guard team. Depth Charge stepped forward to hand the guard in charge the spark-box...

...and Rampage lunged, taking both escort teams completely by surprise as he showed himself not to be the obedient and cowed prisoner they had automatically assumed he was by his behavior. Depth Charge was the only one really prepared for any move by the crab, but he was at the wrong angle to fight his charge, and Rampage’s kick took him squarely between the shoulder blades. His arms raised in reflex as he lurched forwards, and Rampage cleanly swiped the spark-box right out of his hand.

Then he turned and punched the nearest guard, stealing the gun he was carrying with the same hand as the guard collapsed. Instead of using it to shoot the others, however, he quickly pointed it until it was pointing towards the ceiling, brought it to his shoulder that way, and blasted the transformation lock that was there to smithereens. The guards were starting to fire their weapons, and Depth Charge was climbing to his feet. Rampage laughed and transformed to his tank mode, aiming his missile launcher.

Tank treads crushed those who couldn’t or stubbornly didn’t get out of his way, and his missiles outclassed any weapon in the room. True, there were about 30 guards in the room with more pouring in, but that just made the odds a little more even. Depth Charge had been the first target of Rampage’s missiles, and the three he had put in the ray-bot’s stomach while he was still getting up had knocked him offline, depriving the panicked guards of his experience in fighting Rampage. Now they fought and died, or at least were injured, in formations that would have worked against any other fighter, but Rampage simply smashed through them.

With his spark in its box safely in his subspace compartment, the crab was free to destroy anything in his path, and he went at it with a will. There was no real way he could win, he knew. The research facility had to have some kind of heavy defenses in place that could blow the ship away, if necessary. Those thoughts were distant in the present, though, as he left carnage in his wake.

The whine of a heavy laser weapon powering up made the tank turn to see that someone in the guards had gotten organized. The person standing behind the operating crew of the lethal weapon told him exactly who it had been; Captain Venara was livid with rage at him as she looked at her slaughtered fighters. Behind her, Admiral Jerix was expressionlessly watching.

"Rampage, I’ll give you one chance to surrender," she said clearly.

Treads squealed as he charged their position.

She nodded and calmly ordered, "Fire when ready."

The operating crew nodded back, carefully aimed, and fired. Rampage slammed to a halt as a laser that could kill any normal transformer burned into him with a fiery pain not even he could ignore. He roared with anger and pain as the laser continued to slice through him. In desperation, he transformed to his robot mode and tried to lunge forward again.

The laser stayed with him, and his systems began to shut down into emergency stasis lock. The room dimmed slowly to black as he sank down to the floor. The laser turned off, and someone walked into the room and over to him. That person looked down at him as he went offline.

Admiral Jerix smiled.

Rampage came online to find himself strapped to a table, 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 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 walked 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 but 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 couldn't 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.

Those thoughts 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 ever 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.

Rampage glared at the guards at the door. They were armed and threatening, but that wasn’t what was preventing him from attacking them. No, his reason was the small box in the lead transformer’s hand. The pain from its extraction still echoed faintly in the depths of his spark, and he had no real desire to find out how much pain the newest ‘spark-box’ could cause him.

"Come with us, X." One of the guards gestured with his weapon.

He hesitated, wary of where they would take him. That pause was a mistake. Rampage collapsed to his knees as the guard compressed the glowing blue core of his spark, agony trying to force screams past the gag still attached to his voice-box.

The Security Team watched impassively.

The pressure let up on his spark suddenly, but Rampage could only gasp for a moment. The pain was worse than even Megatron had been able to inflict! When the guards motioned for him to move, he reluctantly obeyed immediately this time.

He didn’t have a choice.

Depth Charge blinked dully at the datapad on the table in his quarters in the Cutting Edge and sighed. He hadn’t realized being involved in A.L.H. Research Center’s Security would be so much work! Report after report, talking to the Center’s Security Teams, MORE reports, inspecting the specific security measures he had ordered, and then yet more reports.

Then again, he wasn’t about to complain if it prevented Rampage from getting loose again. With that in mind, he picked up the datapad and started reading the report. It was about the metal alloys of the door to Rampage’s cell and whether or not to replace it with something harder. Depth Charge made the decision about halfway through the report, but kept reading out of habit.

His mind wandered while he did. Yes, he had been buried in reports and necessary work for the last couple of months, but the contents of the reports hadn’t all been as mundane and dull as this one’s. Some of them were understandable, like the report about stronger restraints for Rampage, but why did the report mention them holding up in acid? That was a strange thing to test them for, not to mention unnecessary as far as he could tell. He had noticed that the report had also been sent to Dr. Kilju, but that hadn’t meant much at the time.

Before that report had been sent to the ray-bot, however, the doctor had called him in to inspect the security features for an experiment with Rampage being set up in a lab room with a metal tube in the middle. Depth Charge had absently asked what it was for while he was looking over things, and the doctor’s answer hadn’t really registered until later. It was only after reading the restraints report that Dr. Kilju’s answer had made sense.

The doctor had said, "Holding acid."

But why would Rampage be put in acid? That question disturbed the ray-bot more than he showed while he had made a few inquiries. The answers he had gotten from a couple of the Security Teams’ personnel had just made him more uneasy. One ‘bot had told him to mind his own business if he wanted to stay alive, the other had mentioned something about testing Rampage’s regenerative abilities. Neither answer was particularly reassuring.

Depth Charge shook off his suspicious thoughts and sighed. The Research Center was just fulfilling its function: research. Nothing more. The facility was supported by both the Maximals and Predacons. The place would have to be completely legal; the Maximals would have to obey their laws, or the Predacons would immediately catch them at it. The Predacons had to obey the laws because the Maximals were always watching. Violating the Cybertronian Alliance’s laws would shut the Research Center down, and excessive cruelty to a prisoner was against the law, so therefore Depth Charge had to be overly suspicious of Dr. Kilju’s experiments. Wasn’t he?

The door opened just then, and Depth Charge looked up from the report to see his answer. His roommate walked in.

"Any luck?" Rattrap nervously sat down at the table.

Depth Charge slowly shook his head. "None. Apparently, no one’s even heard of them, much less seen them." The ray-bot put down the report as his other worries returned. Perhaps he wasn’t being so suspicious... "And you?"

The rat’s shoulders slumped. "Guns, ya know, da offense systems computer guy?" He waited until Depth Charge nodded to continue, "He says another three of da crew are missin’," he said softly. "Dat means dere’s only somethin’ like less den a quarter of da ship’s crew left." Rattrap grimaced. "Still think I’m paranoid?" he asked only half-jokingly.

Troubled, Depth Charge sighed. "I don’t know WHAT to think anymore," he admitted, and the two of them lapsed into a thoughtful silence as they considered the last couple of months.

Optimus Primal, Rhinox, and Cheetor hadn’t returned from their trip down to the Center. At first, Depth Charge had simply assumed the tour was pretty long and Rhinox had convinced the others to stay for a while on the surface. Rattrap was frantic, but the ray-bot just shrugged it off.

After the first month, he hadn’t been so casual. Something Captain Venara had let slip in one of their conversations had revealed that almost a quarter of her crew had gone down to the Center in the same shuttle as Optimus, Rhinox, and Cheetor. Not one of them had come back, or communicated in any way with their friends and crew mates still on the Cutting Edge, since then.

Rattrap’s paranoia started to make a little bit of sense.

Then the A.L.H. Research Center had assigned an armed shuttle and military crew to the space ship, supposedly for the Cutting Edge’s protection, but also to provide transportation to the surface for any who desired it. The shuttle’s assignment had arrived with a new set of orders for Captain Venara. Her crew was now allowed to leave the ship without seeking permission first, and the internal security cameras in the corridors would be deactivated to ‘conserve power’. Basically, the crew could do whatever they wanted without telling anyone where they were going or anyone seeing them. People from the crew started disappearing, and no one could protest.

Depth Charge and Captain Venara had been wary and suspicious, but they had no evidence to prove that the assigned military crew was abducting crew members. Rattrap’s suspicions became fact...for him. According to his nose and inborn sense of paranoia, he KNEW what was happening. Unfortunately, no one on board seemed to believe him, because there wasn’t enough proof.

Then Blackarachnia and Silverbolt disappeared. Depth Charge and Rattrap had walked across the ship to their shared quarters to visit and found it abandoned. A couple of burn marks on the walls suggested that there might have been a fight, but Rattrap’s nose confirmed it. He smelled unfamiliar weapons, and he even tracked Blackarachnia and Silverbolt’s scents through the corridors to where the Center shuttle was docked.

Depth Charge had believed him this time and had almost done something completely stupid; confront Admiral Jirex. Captain Venara had stopped him at the last moment.

"You’ll put yourself in danger," she had said quietly.

He had stared at her. "What do you mean? Blackarachnia and Silverbolt are gone, Optimus, Rhinox, and Cheetor are missing, and your crew is slowly disappearing!"

She’d nodded gravely. "Exactly. Right now Dr. Kilju has a use for you, so you’re allowed in and out of the Center. No one else can say the same thing," she’d added grimly. "Don’t put yourself at risk. That’s what I’m here for. What I need you to do is to keep a sharp eye out and to be as cooperative as possible with the Center. Fit in and don’t be suspicious, and maybe you’ll keep getting out alive." She had reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with the serious expression that had seemed to become her only facial expression lately. "You can’t help anyone if you’re dead."

Captain Venara had left him to go speak with Admiral Jirex. That was the last Depth Charge had seen of her.

A dispatch had arrived for Depth Charge the next day informing him that Captain Venara had been reassigned to another ship, and that he was in charge of the Cutting Edge. It had been a blatant lie since he knew the Captain wouldn’t have accepted an assignment away from her beloved starship, but he had remembered her words before she left and accepted, hiding his anger.

His casual response to Venara’s disappearance had apparently pleased Admiral Jirex, because he authorized a personal shuttle for the ray-bot, so that he wouldn’t have to wait for one to pick him up.

The ship’s crew had started disappearing at a faster rate after that, despite the fact that the orders he had given through Rattrap (to avoid any suspicion towards him) had reorganized their resting quarters assignments so that they mainly grouped together in one area. That should have made it easier for the crew to defend themselves.

Instead, entire groups of crew personnel began disappearing.

That wasn’t the worst, however. On one of Depth Charge’s visits with Dr. Kilju, the doctor had taken him on a small tour of the facility which had included the A.L.H. Research Center’s recycling plants. The ray-bot had been slightly confused at the strange place to take him, but he had hoped that it didn’t mean that Dr. Kilju was going to get rid of him there. He hadn’t been brought there to kill, though. It had been a test.

While Dr. Kilju had talked to several of the other people in the tour, Depth Charge had noticed a conveyor belt nearby that was hauling metal-only scrap to a furnace further in the plant to be melted down. He had recognized several of the parts; one of Blackarachnia’s pincers, one of the Cutting Edge’s crew member’s proudly painted and displayed knee guards, the large sheets of metal that had once been at Optimus Primal’s elbows.

Depth Charge had looked at them, and his last hope of his friends’ survival died.

After a moment, he had forced himself to turn away. As he had thought, Dr. Kilju was watching him. Depth Charge had looked back at him blandly, showing no signs of caring that the remains of the Maximals he had spent his time on Earth with were traveling towards a furnace behind him. The doctor had smiled slightly and turned back to his conversation with the others.

Before he had fully absorbed the shock of the knowledge of Optimus, Rhinox, Cheetor, Blackarachnia, Silverbolt, and the missing crew members’ deaths, Dr. Kilju tested him again. Bringing the group down the corridors near Rampage’s cell, Depth Charge automatically insisted on abiding by the security requirements for visitors. The group had reluctantly done so, apparently seeing the security measures as unnecessary. Moving onward, however, they had come across a sight.

A Security Team was dragging a large form down the corridor they were on. As the group had gotten closer, Depth Charge had noticed that the transformer in the center of the guards had armor that was corroded to the point that when he moved suddenly, the ray-bot had jumped back with surprise that the ‘bot was alive. The guards had easily subdued the weakened transformer, especially after one of them had threateningly held up something that made Depth Charge do a double-take; it was a spark-box. But the only transformer whose spark could survive being split in two was Rampage...

He had immediately studied the ‘bot being hauled away down the corridor, but the transformer was barely recognizable as alive, much less as Rampage. Still, the size of the ‘bot and the spark-box could only be him. Depth Charge had felt like he needed to be sick as he had looked after his enemy, and several of the people in the group with him seemed to feel the same way. He knew Dr. Kilju was watching him expectantly, so he locked his emotions behind a shield of indignant authority and demanded to know why he hadn’t been informed when Rampage was moved. Dr. Kilju had smiled politely and made an excuse before going on with the tour.

When Depth Charge had gotten back on board the Cutting Edge, he had found a joint message from Admiral Jirex and Dr. Kilju informing him of a change of his status; he was now the Security Chief for the Protoform X project. Apparently, he had passed the ‘tests’ set by them, and they had decided to reward him.

He didn’t spend any time in celebration.

Depth Charge shook himself out of his thoughts. "Did you get the computers to work for you?"

Rattrap jumped, obviously startled out of his thoughts. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I’ve got everything but da communications systems wired to da bridge. Dis place can now be run entirely from dere by a handful of ‘bots. Um, two or three ‘bots would be pushin’ it, but ya could still fly dis ship outta here if ya had ta."

The ray-bot nodded. "Why couldn’t you get the communications systems hooked up?"

Rattrap looked grim. "Da system’s locked up, and whoever did it was good. I can’t get past da scrambling." He blinked as Depth Charge slammed his fist down on the table. "Eh, we were pretty sure da system would be jammed when dis started!" he said defensively.

"I know," Depth Charge sighed tiredly. "It’s just that this won’t work if we can’t get at least ONE message out." He glared at the report on the table as if it was the cause of all their problems. "Did you at least get the security cameras running again?" he asked hopefully.

Rattrap hesitated, but then nodded. "Only three," he warned when the ray-bot looked slightly relieved. "Da rest have been trashed."

Depth Charge nodded again. "It’s better than none," he said quietly. "We just need to find a way to get a message out, now..."

The rat and manta ray silently stared at nothing, thinking over their plan. They had come up with it soon after Captain Venara’s disappearance, but it had been modified several times since then. Depth Charge’s elevation in status had made it necessary that he distance himself from the Cutting Edge’s crew to prevent suspicion of the role he was playing: someone who didn’t care about anything but keeping Rampage under control. The ship’s crew understood, however, so they cooperated with what Rattrap told them to do.

The starship’s main controls had been rerouted to the bridge as a result of that. For once, having the security cameras off-line was useful because it meant that the crew could work unsupervised by them. The work was done quickly, but by the time it was near completion Rattrap and Depth Charge were glad they had planned that stage first. There wasn’t enough crew personnel left to run the starship’s controls normally.

While Rattrap and the Cutting Edge’s crew were doing that, Depth Charge was doing some discrete computer searches. He had found what he had wanted easily: the planet Rarmet was a free planet of a different sort. It had no alliances and a space-faring Military large enough to back its freedom up. Occasionally Rarmet had to use it when an offended government attacked it for doing its job; Rarmet’s entire industry was information. The planet’s government offered asylum to any news organization and spy in the known universe, and then supplied the news to that same universe, telling the truth no matter who it offended or what it revealed.

Rarmet also offered asylum to those who had information to share. The security cameras in the crew’s quarters should supply that information if there were any more abductions. Unfortunately, the Cutting Edge wouldn’t be sure of its safety on Rarmet unless they found some way to send out a message to the planet.

"Does the Captain’s quarters have a separate communications system from the rest of the ship?" Depth Charge asked suddenly.

Rattrap sat up straight. "Yeah," he said slowly, "I think so..." He looked at the ray-bot sharply. "Ya think dey didn’t mess wit’ dat system?"

Depth Charge shrugged. "It’s worth a try."

Rattrap accessed the program. "C’mon, slaggit," he hissed, "WORK!"

Depth Charge paced behind him while he worked on what was once Captain Venara’s desk computer. This was a last ditch attempt. Even if the communications system worked, the A.L.H Research Center’s Security scanners were likely to pick up the fact that it was in use. Hopefully the Center wouldn’t be able to intercept the message, but either way Rattrap and Depth Charge were taking a huge risk.

"Got it!" Rattrap crowed suddenly. He spun his seat in a circle in celebration, but then immediately got back to business. "Okay, lemme see...attach da recordings of last night’s abduction..."

Depth Charge continued pacing as Rattrap mumbled to himself, composing the message that so much of their plan depended on. Doubts assaulted him; would Rarmet receive the message? Would the Cutting Edge arrive at the planet only to be turned away, their safety in question?

The ray-bot shook his head and pushed the doubts aside. There wasn’t any room in his plan for them.

Rattrap looked up at him with his hand poised over the ‘Send’ button. "Ready?"

Depth Charge read over the message and nodded. It stated simply that the starship Cutting Edge had information about a top secret facility jointly run by the Maximals and Predacons, and included a recording to prove the legitimacy of the information.

The rat took a deep breath. "Here goes nothin’..." He pressed the button, and the message disappeared from the screen. If things went well, that message would insure that Rarmet would accept the arrival of the Cutting Edge. Rattrap glanced at Depth Charge and got up. "Tell me how it goes," he said quietly and walked out of what was once Captain Venara’s office.

When the captain of the shuttle assigned to the Cutting Edge walked into the room later, he found Depth Charge sitting at the desk looking through reports.

The ray-bot looked up from a datapad. "Is something wrong?" he asked in a casual tone of voice.

The transformer frowned slightly. "The Center picked up a transmission from this ship a little while ago," he said slowly. "You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?"

Depth Charge nodded. "Yes, in fact, I do." The shuttle captain concealed his surprise at the ray-bot’s admission badly since he had been anticipating him making excuses, but the Maximal ignored the other’s shock. "I tried to retrieve some old files of mine from a terminal on Cybertron. The thing must not working, anymore," he continued in an irritated voice. "The slagging thing gave me an error message."

The shuttle captain nodded. "Well, I’m sure the Research Center would be able to retrieve the file if you just told us the file name and location..." he trailed off, still half-expecting Depth Charge to be lying. Victims of the Center did not contact others except when they were trying to escape. But this ‘bot was looking for an old file?! Something didn’t quite seem right about that in his experience...but, then again, this guy was supposed to be part of the Center Security Teams now, so maybe...

Depth Charge rummaged around in the datapads stacked on the desk in front of him and tossed one of them to the shuttle captain. "Here’s the file coordinates. Don’t bother giving the file to me, though, just send it directly to Dr. Kilju." He picked up the report he had been reading.

The shuttle captain looked at the datapad in his hands and back at Depth Charge. So maybe the ‘bot HADN’T been lying...

Depth Charge sighed in relief as the door closed. The shuttle captain had bought it! If the Center checked for the file, they’d find the same message he had said he had gotten. He knew they would because he had disconnected the terminal himself when he had left Cybertron.

And if they pursued the issue and actually got the file...well, he was sure Dr. Kilju would find some use for an old copy of the blueprints for the Protoform X experiment facility.

The door hissed open again, and Depth Charge started to tense. He relaxed again as Rattrap walked in. "It worked," he said bluntly.

The shorter Maximal nodded. "Good. Now we just gotta pick a time."

"And soon." Depth Charge closed his eyes as he remembered seeing his scrapped comrades on the conveyor belt. "Before we all disappear ‘mysteriously’."

Rattrap carefully checked over the computer systems one last time. Today was the day. No mess-ups allowed. With only twenty of the Cutting Edge’s crew left, including him and Depth Charge, everything had to be running perfectly. If this didn’t work, they’d all be dead.

If this worked, though, they’d be free.

Experienced and persistent hacking had gotten them enough evidence to expose the Maximal High Council’s involvement in the A.L.H Research Center. Visual records of labs, downloaded files, the security camera records from the ship itself; it was all enough to destroy the known universe’s generally high regard for the Council. A dirty little secret like this one might just cause the shaky relations with Earth (problems had been occurring since the diplomatic incident over the colonization of Mars) to end completely. That would most likely cause a lot of Earth’s colonies to also break off relations with Cybertron, which would cause...

Basically, it would do the Maximal High Council a lot of harm.

That was fine with Rattrap. In fact, he was looking forward to doing that harm with a measure of sadistic glee. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t have any particular feelings towards the Cybertronian government besides irritation if it did something or passed a law that was annoying to him.

These, however, were NOT normal circumstances. That government had killed his friends, who he had spent the time on ancient Earth and on the ship with, and was covering up their deaths. He didn’t mind so much that the Predacon prisoners had disappeared just as mysteriously as the crew was; in his mind they deserved it. But Optimus? Rhinox? The kiddo? Ever-noble Silverbolt? Slaggit, even Blackarachnia shouldn’t have been killed...for anything.

Rattrap had felt grief and anger when Dinobot had died. He had used the feelings to fight the Predacons. He felt those emotions again, this time, but they were much stronger. That was fine; he had a bigger and stronger opponent this time.

The Predacons had been captured, imprisoned, and were probably dead by now. Rattrap had every intention of making the Maximal High Council pay a similar price for the deaths of his friends...

Depth Charge walked down the corridor towards Rampage’s cell. One last inspection check before he left the Center...for good. The Security Teams placed around the Center had no idea that he had spent most of the time ground-side today planting a computer virus deep in the A.L.H Research Center’s programming. Rattrap and some of the more experience hackers in the Cutting Edge’s crew had spent day and night hacking through files and constructing the virus. The ray-bot hadn’t asked about the thing; he didn’t want to know for sure that the skills and techniques they had used were illegal.

The virus wouldn’t affect this area; even in the midst of a desperate escape Depth Charge wouldn’t take the risk of Rampage getting free. Oh, some, in fact, probably all of the guards would leave the area, but none of the locks and doors would go haywire like a lot of them were going to. The automatic systems would stay online, but the Security personnel would leave.

That’s why Depth Charge was here, checking things over. He REALLY wouldn’t like it if Rampage got free again...

"Everything’s still in order," one of the transformers on duty assured him. The Security Teams assigned to the Protoform X project were used to their Chief’s paranoid ways by now. They were also vaguely reassured by it. Despite being an outsider, they knew Depth Charge’s fanatical interest in keeping Rampage confined made him someone Admiral Jirex and Dr. Kilju trusted. Therefore, the Security people trusted him.

Depth Charge knew all of that, and he was about to betray most of that image. It was true that he was concerned with keeping Rampage under control, but he wasn’t blind to what the Center was doing like he pretended to be. It was just convenient for his escape plan to keep everyone thinking that.

A thought struck him, and he turned to where two Security personnel stood on either side of the thick door to Rampage’s cell. Since it would be his last time, he should at least see his worst enemy before he left...

"I’m going in," he said to them.

They exchanged looks and shrugged. In this area of the Center, what the Security Chief wanted, he got. To Depth Charge’s surprise, though, one of the guards reached into an alcove sunk into the wall nearby. When his hand emerged again, it was holding Rampage’s spark box...but it had a strange piece of machinery attached to it.

"Here you go," the guard said as he handed it over to the ray-bot. "I’d give you the speech about being careful and all that, but I think you already know it." He grinned as that brought laughter from the other transformer on duty.

Depth Charge ignored that and looked at the modified spark-box. "What is this?" he asked.

The other guard blinked. "Oh, yeah, that. Dr. Kilju’s doing another experiment, so that thing squeezes the spark every once and a while." He pointed at it. "See? There it goes!"

The guard was right. The attached machinery compressed slowly and let up again.

"Okay," Depth Charge said after a moment of puzzling over that. "Let me in." The jokester guard keyed the datapad, and the door slid open. The ray-bot started to walk in, but the guard held out a remote.

"I almost forgot," he said sheepishly. "This is for the gag. You know, if you want to talk to him, or something."

Depth Charge nodded and took it, then walked into the cell.

Rampage relaxed as the pain ebbed away again, back down to the constant level he was used to by now. He slowly dragged himself up from the floor and sat back down on the hard bed, almost unable to accomplish even this small action. He blearily stared at the floor between his feet and wondered how much more of this he could take.

The door opened, but he didn’t even lift his head to see his visitor. Who was it? Did it matter anymore? Was it Dr. Kilju? Back for another check-up, perhaps? Admiral Jirex, laughing at his torment again? Or maybe one of the guards for some strange reason? He didn’t care. He didn’t have enough energy to care.

"Rampage?"

That voice was familiar. Whose was it? He still didn’t look up. He couldn’t make himself look up. His view of the floor was slowly fading as his body demanded time to recharge. He just wanted to rest...to be free of the low level of pain throbbing throughout his body...

PAIN!

Rampage gave a hoarse scream and clutched his chest, only dimly realizing he could speak as the agony washed through him from his spark. The room snapped back into focus as the pain shrilled louder within him, pushing back the weariness for a brief moment, but then the pain itself made the room fade. His mangled spark pulsed within him, forcing raw sounds of agony from his throat as he doubled over and fell off the bed again, unable to fight the pain in any way except the futile action of curling up defensively.

The pain gradually eased back again, and Rampage’s shuddering eased with it. He stayed on the floor, though, not sure if he could climb to his feet again and trying to decide if he should attempt to. His tiredness returned twice as strong, making the choice even harder. The twinges of pain at each movement hurt, but he could deal with that. The weariness, though...

"Rampage?"

That voice again. How annoying. Why couldn’t it go away? He wasn’t interested in visitors. He vaguely remembered it exclaiming in surprise as his spark was compressed, but none of the guards or Dr. Kilju or Admiral Jirex had ever done that. So who was it? His voice was familiar...but he was too tired to worry about that.

"Rampage? Can you hear me?"

That voice was getting on his nerves. Why wouldn’t it go away so he could rest? And it seemed so familiar...

Depth Charge looked down at the large form on the floor and tried again. "Rampage?" There was no response. The only time the ray-bot had seen any response from the crab was when the spark-box had compressed. The pain from that action had shocked him; Rampage hadn’t reacted with such pain even when he was forced to surrender!

It could be a trick, but Depth Charge didn’t think so. The experiment that the guard had told him Dr. Kilju was doing seemed to have made Rampage extremely weak. Right now, the crab didn’t even look like he’d be able to lever himself up off the floor.

Still extremely cautious, Depth Charge slowly walked closer and prodded Rampage in the side with his foot. The Predacon groaned, but didn’t respond.

Something was poking him. That was even more irritating than the voice. Rampage considered the matter and reluctantly decided that he would have to move in order to stop the annoyances.

The question was, of course, whether or not he had enough energy left to get up...and if the pain would let him...

The ray-bot stepped back as Rampage slowly began to move.

He rolled over onto his front, first. That seemed to exhaust him for a moment, but then he started to push himself off the floor with his arms. They collapsed during the first try, so he changed tactics. He bent his knees slightly and used his hands to push himself back up onto his knees. Rampage stayed there with his head bent for a little while, apparently resting from the effort. Bringing one foot up, he braced himself and lunged upwards. After that he gradually straightened up and staggered to the side to lean against the wall.

Depth Charge watched in amazement. Simple movements for him looked like major struggle by his enemy. And there was something different about the Predacon...

"Rampage." He tried to get his attention.

Rampage slowly turned his head. He looked at the ray-bot blankly for a moment before finally recognizing him. "Depth Charge," he said tiredly. "I should have known." He leaned against the wall heavily as he walked carefully back towards the bed. His legs gave out just as he reached it, and he sat down hard. "So," he said dully, "have you come to gloat?"

"Gloat?" Depth Charge studied him. It was his attitude, he decided. The Predacon had always seemed to have an air of arrogance and pride. Instead of that, however, Rampage now just seemed worn out, like even talking required a huge effort. "Why would I gloat?"

Rampage rested his head in his hands. "Your wish came true; I’m brought to justice. Aren’t you happy?" his voice held a faint note of mockery, but it was almost as if he couldn’t get the energy to insult the ray-bot.

Depth Charge frowned. "I suppose," he said slowly. He shook his head and started to say something more when the spark-box in his hand compressed.

Rampage shrieked in pain and fell forward off the bed as he curled up involuntarily, moaning as the device crushed his spark.

The Maximal stood there helplessly, watching the crab’s torment uncomfortably. There was something wrong about doing this to someone, even a psychopath like Rampage. He hesitantly stepped forward, acting before he thought, as the spark-box opened again and eased off the pressure. Depth Charge reached down and half-lifted the pain-filled crab off the floor and back to sitting on the bed.

Rampage feebly tried to help the ray lift him, but his strength was almost completely gone. When he was sitting down again, he looked up. "Why’d you...help me?" he asked slowly, getting each word past the lethargic fog that seemed to be covering his mind.

Depth Charge shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t really KNOW why he had done what he had done. "What is Dr. Kilju doing to you?" he asked instead. "You seem...drained."

A bitter laugh pushed past his weariness. "An experiment," he said just as bitterly. "He’s finding out how long I can survive without energon." At the blank look on Depth Charge’s face, Rampage sighed. "He’s starving me to see the results," he said bluntly.

The uneasy feeling in the ray-bot grew and strengthened to discomfort. Being deprived of energon was both less and more painful than having an overdose of the energy source. Being exposed to an overabundance of unstable energon shocked transformers painfully, but the shock also put them off-line quickly. It took much longer for a robot to go off-line because of LACK of energon...but the pain only built up slowly, not in an immediate shock like an overdose. Near the end the pain was constant, driving the starving transformer to desperate lengths to get energon. When pushed beyond that point, most transformers went off-line. But...Rampage obviously wasn’t off-line...

"He’s keeping you online with this, isn’t he," Depth Charge said, holding up the spark-box. "It’s programmed to compress at random times."

A faint nod answered him. "As a side effect, it prevents me from recharging," Rampage said tiredly.

The Maximal looked at him in both disbelief and pity. The huge ‘bot was in the power of a mad scientist. Only someone who was insane would inflict a ‘test’ like this on someone, even a convicted criminal. But if Dr. Kilju was doing this, then Admiral Jirex knew what was happening--which meant that the entire A.L.H Research Center was involved in this...torture.

"Depth Charge, go away," Rampage sighed. "I don’t want to talk to you." He slumped over on the bed slowly, unable to keep himself upright any longer.

Depth Charge’s thoughts were racing. "Rampage, I--"

The Predacon turned his face to the wall. "Please, Maximal, just leave me alone," he whispered.

The ray-bot stood there for another long moment, just looking down at the broken form of his worst enemy...who didn’t deserve this, even for all of the atrocities he had committed. His mind worked, turning moral questions and plans over and over, searching for a solution for the problem in front of him. Finally he nodded and quietly withdrew from the cell, wincing as the spark-box in his hand compressed again.

Rampage’s screams followed him out.

Rattrap met him at the airlock when he stepped onboard the Cutting Edge again. "Dey’re gone," the rat said grimly. "When ya left, da Center shuttle crew just...abducted dem all."

Depth Charge froze. "How--?"

The shorter Maximal gritted his teeth. "I was workin’ in da computer when I heard a fire-fight. By da time I got ta the crew’s quarters, everybody was gone." He frowned and voiced the thought neither of them wanted to even think. "We’re da only ones left."

The ray-bot stared at him for a long time. Then he glanced away. "Not the only ones." At Rattrap’s questioning look, he sighed and started to explain. "We’re going to have to change our plan..." He had a feeling he’d have to do a LOT of explaining...

"Dis is crazy," Rattrap whispered to himself. His hands were busy on the console in front of him as he spoke, though. Crazy or not, he didn’t have a choice. And, like Optimus had once said, ‘Sometimes crazy works.’

Depth Charge was in sight of the Security Team guarding Rampage’s cell, looking like he was just walking by for one more paranoid inspection, when everything went berserk. Alarms screamed, computers scrambled themselves, computer screens went haywire, showing information that held only the vaguest hint of things going on. The guards tensed as areas of the Center called desperately for back-up in helping them contain experiments gone wrong or let loose. This area of the Center had just as many alarms screaming and lights flickering wildly, but it was obvious that other areas had been hit harder.

"Go! I’ll stay!" Depth Charge ordered when he saw the conflict in the Security Team between staying at their assigned posts and going to help. The guards gratefully left guard duty to their Chief, who they trusted to keep Rampage in his cell.

Except the ray-bot had no intention of doing so. Waiting until the last of the Security Team was out of sight, Depth Charge ripped the machinery off of Rampage’s spark-box and keyed the cell door to open. He still wasn’t sure this idea wouldn’t get him, and others, killed, but he couldn’t leave someone behind to be tortured. Not even this ‘bot.

The exhausted transformer inside the cell was laying on the floor, apparently unable to even get up anymore. He didn’t even look up as the noise outside entered his cell.

"Rampage!" Depth Charge hissed. "Get up!"

The crab glanced up with an effort. "Depth Charge..?" he asked in confusion when he saw the worried look on his enemy’s face.

The Maximal knelt by him and pulled one of the crab’s arms over his shoulders. "A little help would be appreciated," he gritted out while he strained to lift Rampage’s heavy bulk.

The Predacon weakly attempted to get his feet under him, completely confused by Depth Charge’s actions. "What are you doing?" he managed to ask as the ray half-dragged him to the cell entrance.

"I’ll explain later," the ray said curtly. He eyed the distance of the corridor and mentally measured how much farther he would be able to make it with Rampage almost limp with lack of energy. Not far enough, he concluded. They had to make it to the landing pad, and the crab was too heavy. Depth Charge cursed to himself and turned to the crab leaning against him helplessly. "Can you at least walk on your own for the length of this corridor?"

Rampage blinked at his question. "I...don’t know," he answered hesitantly. "Fish Face, what--?"

Depth Charge snarled something non-repeatable at the uncertain answer to his question. "Slaggit, I’m breaking out of here and taking you with me," he growled finally. "If you can’t make it to the shuttle, we’re both scrap. Got it? Now, give me a straight answer! Can you make it to the end of the corridor on your own, or do I leave you here to Dr. Kilju?!" His time was running out. The A.L.H Research Center could do a computer systems purge at any moment...

Rampage stiffened, staring incredulously at his worst enemy. Then he cast another look at the corridor. "I think...maybe," he said after a brief second of consideration. Hope was giving him a bit of energy on its own, he thought humorlessly. Or at least his mind was working again despite his fatigue and low level starvation-pain. "I might be able to make it farther if I could transform to my beast mode," he said. "More legs will make it harder to collapse, and I’d have less distance to fall if I did," he added quickly when Depth Charge gave him a suspicious look.

The Maximal regarded him cautiously for a moment, but the need to hurry won out over his wariness. Depth Charge quickly reached over and keyed the transformation lock on Rampage’s shoulder loose. The Predacon immediately dropped into his crab mode and slowly began creeping towards the far end of the corridor, wavering slightly but staying on his feet. Depth Charge sprinted past him and to the end of the hall, looking both directions for any Center personnel or complications.

Rampage struggled to keep going forward. It wasn’t a matter of determination; he had every intention of escaping. No, he just simply didn’t have the energy. It felt like he was walking through thick glue that was drying every time he put down a leg. Each movement cost him precious energy, and black dots danced in his vision as his optics began to shut down from the lack of energon. Without the pain of his spark being compressed, his body was insisting on going off-line...and he had a feeling that whatever reason Depth Charge had for rescuing him was, it wouldn’t prevent the ray from leaving him behind if he slowed him down too much. Rampage couldn’t go back to that cell, back to Dr. Kilju’s ‘tender mercies’.

He’d kill himself first.

"Fish...Face," he gasped. Up ahead of him, Depth Charge glanced back impatiently. "My spark...crush it..."

The Maximal was shocked at Rampage’s request, but the reasoning behind it flew through his thoughts as he saw the crab sinking gradually closer to the floor as his legs gave out. Depth Charge had to keep him online...but if he squeezed the spark TOO hard, Rampage would collapse from the pain. So he had to put only THIS much pressure on it....

The crab keened softly in pain and staggered, but he stayed on his feet, dragging himself farther.

"C’mon," Rattrap urged his fellow Maximal despite the fact that Depth Charge couldn’t hear him. "Check in soon...we gotta get movin’ before dese guys get organized again!"

The armored space craft surrounding the Center’s moon were thrown into chaos, receiving orders that countermanded previous orders, and then countermanded THOSE orders as computer systems went crazy. Rattrap had already made two course corrections, taking the Cutting Edge completely out of the A.L.H Research Center’s orbit. When the Center shuttle assigned to the starship had complained, Rattrap had done his ‘I’m with Stupid’ act and told the irritated and panicked shuttle captain that he was just following orders from groundside.

The shuttle had been ordered away from the starship before anyone could ask any more questions.

"Now, Depth Charge," Rattrap muttered anxiously, watching the armed space craft around the ship divert their courses and speed towards the opposite side of the moon, where apparently something big was heading off-planet. "Now would be good!"

<Shuttle to Cutting Edge! This is Depth Charge! Rattrap, where--"> Rattrap flicked his receiver on. "Get your skidplate up here NOW!" he yelled. "We ain’t got anymore time!"

Depth Charge barely looked to the side, where Rampage was slumped in the co-pilot’s chair, as he guided the shuttle through the sky. The crab wasn’t a threat. After transforming back to his robot mode, he had admitted that his optics were completely off-line. That meant that besides supporting the Predacon and keeping a look-out for ‘problems’ (as in, Security Teams or other escapees), he had been forced to guide the blind Predacon’s faltering steps so that he wouldn’t stumble and fall. As soon as Rampage had collapsed into the chair in the shuttle, he had gone off-line.

And now...

<Capt’n Minnow, I’m gettin’ targeted by da automatic defenses here!>

"Send the ship’s identification codes," he told Rattrap as he kept most of his attention on his piloting. Docking a shuttle on a moving starship was a complicated maneuver that he did NOT want to mess up.

<Uh...I did, and now I’m receivin’ orders ta bring da ship back inta orbit.>

"From Admiral Jirex?" Alongside the starship, but not too close...

<No, from the automatic systems.>

"Transmit the orders you made in case of something like this." Set the shuttle on auto-pilot and match up the airlocks...

Rattrap’s voice was acquiring an edge of controlled panic. <They ain’t buyin’ it!>

"I’m on my way." Depth Charge sprang from the pilot’s seat, but then hesitated. "Rattrap, could you maneuver the ship in front of the shuttle if I detach it from us?"

There was a pause. <Eh...yeah, I think so. You had better get outta dere quick!>

"I’m working on it!" The ray-bot paused long enough to program some simple orders into the shuttle’s auto-pilot before hauling Rampage out of the airlock and into the Cutting Edge. Once the airlock closed behind them, Depth Charge dropped the unconscious crab and ran for the ship’s bridge.

"About time!" Rattrap yelled as he slid to a stop next to him. "We’re gettin’ targeted like crazy! Dey’re gonna start firin’ any second!"

Depth Charge lunged across the bridge to another seat in front of another console. The screen on it showed the blip that was the shuttle detaching itself from the starship and dumping speed to fall behind the ship. "Get that shuttle between us and the guns then, Mouse," he said grimly. "I’m downloading the Transwarp jump coordinates--" He grunted as the ship bucked, throwing him from his seat. "What was that?!"

Rattrap groaned. "Da shuttle’s scrap!"

The ray-bot climbed back into his seat. "Slag! What are they shooting at us with?!" He set the coordinates quickly, checking and rechecking.

"You don’t wanna know, Capt’n Minnow. Let’s just say we’re gonna die."

He sneered. "Very funny, Mouse. I’m going to initiate jump in Three--"

"We got incoming!"

"Two--"

The Cutting Edge twisted in a desperate effort to avoid the weapons fire. Rattrap was struggling to control a starship designed to be manned by an entire crew, and most recently rewired to be manipulated by a handful of people. There were only two transformers available. Having only him at this console slowed the reaction time of the ship considerably.

"One--"

Rattrap did his best, but it was ultimately a futile, though heroic, effort by the rat. One of the weapons’ platforms kept the starship in its targeting sensors as the ship avoided the rest of the automatic systems, and its weapons’ fire hit the Cutting Edge dead on.

The console in front of Depth Charge sparked violently while the ones beside him caught fire or exploded. He was hurled from his seat again while behind him he heard more explosions and Rattrap’s scream. Focused on one goal, he scrambled up and slapped his hand down on the activation button, seeing that the coordinates he had so carefully entered into the computer were scrambled but opting for leaving to go anywhere instead of staying and dying.

The stars outside the bridge viewscreen blurred together as the Transwarp drive kicked in. Barely a moment later the spangles of light separated again and briefly seemed to get close enough for him to reach out and touch before snapping back into focus.

It was that simple, and Depth Charge’s shoulders relaxed slightly as it really sank in that they had really escaped from the A.L.H Research Center. They were safe! Sure, he had no idea what coordinates they were at, and most of the Cutting Edge’s computers were probably fried, but Rattrap and him could repair things like that. They could even lock up Rampage, who was most likely still off-line down by the airlock.

The ray-bot climbed to his feet and turned around to congratulate Rattrap. The words died unspoken.

"Oh, Primus. No," he whispered instead.

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