Disclaimer: Kind lords and ladies of Hasbro, please do not sue me. I make no profit.

Author's note:

The author of this little fic

Has been of late a little sick.

That's why her mind is so deluded

As you have already concluded.

And yet, to please her faithful fans

She keeps devising plots and plans.

And she can say in her defense

That if you did by any chance

Not get exactly what she meant

That's one more reason to comment.

So if you want her on to go

Please be kind and let her know.

;D

Chapter two

Revelations

To Draange for being so faithful.

I didn't encounter anything even remotely interesting during my first three days on Omicron. Well, save the fact that a mini tracking device was installed in me by Dr. Clearcut who was evidently determined not to take any chances. I even suspected a miniature microphone being attached to it. But that was completely futile. Tracking devices and the likes never worked on me. When I was very young I had such a thing to inform my father where I was and keep me from getting lost. It never could fulfil its purpose. I was born like that. It's something about my spark. My spark has its peculiarities and they have helped me immensely with my work. Without them I don't think I would have become a secret agent. I never seemed exactly the type for it.

Well, obviously, the scientists did need another bot in their team but had no intention of trusting me right away. I had been briefed by the Elders about the super soldier they had created and were now testing but I hadn't asked any more questions. I wouldn't have been wise of me. But since I had arrived on the colony I hadn't learned anything new. I had taken part in several small chemical experiments with various fluids and that was about all.

In other circumstances I would have waited for things to settle and for the other doctors to grow accustomed to me. But Optimus Primal's claims included a child being locked up somewhere in the facility and I could waste no more time.

Midnight found me at the entrance of Dr. Clearcut's office, spreading some special dust on the panel on the door. A nano-cycle later little marks on the most often used buttons were clearly visible. After trying a few combinations with these buttons, the door slid open.

Guessing the password of classified files was a bit harder. Fortunately, it was an Orange Mac computer. Orange Mac only had high-ranking clients like the government or some of Cybertron's billionaires. Since there were vitally important files in most of these computers, they all had a special emergency password known only to the directors of Orange Mac and the Elders (and me, thanks to my father). This way, in case the owner suddenly died without revealing his or her own password, the information was still accessible. Moments later I was downloading top-secret information about the Protoform X project in my own database. But I had no time to go trough it right now. I had to get out quickly, especially since cleaning the colourful dust from all the panels I had passed took ages. At one time I was almost spotted by a guard at the end of a corridor. Not for the fist time I considered changing my colour scheme. The silver was all right but crimson and orange were not good colours for a secret agent.

I exhaled a sigh of relief when I was finally back in my room. I sat on the bad, dimmed my optics and let information run trough my mind.

Almost right away my optics snapped back wide open with disbelief.

I cursed my big imagination that night because it kept providing me with images of what could be going on under my feet. In truth, not much was going on there at that particular time. At least not on the surface.

The three occupied cells were exceptionally quiet and not because their occupants were asleep. For close to a forth night now not a word had been uttered trough the gap in the wall between two of the cells.

In the first cell Starlet was reading, diving into the imaginary world with the faith and ease only childhood can provide in a time of trials. She had been given data pads with Cybertron young adult classics to keep her busy.

According to Dr. Clearcut's plan, after her mother was out of the way she would be displayed to the general public as a huge achievement in the Cybertronian spark medicine. That's why she was getting special treatment. She shouldn't be able to say anything bad about the doctors that healed her.

In the second cell the robot was this time lying on his back chained to the floor. Considering all, this was an improvement. Though wedges were still used at the lab table just in case, they were obviously unnecessary in his cell. And since they were a lot of trouble anyway, the security team had replaced them with simple but very strong chains. He was week enough that they kept him easily in place.

The experiments strictly concerning his physical endurance were over but that meant nothing. It was quite obvious that he could survive almost anything. The problem was how was the government supposed to use their new super soldier when he tended to be so stubborn? So now the scientists were racking their brains about how to make him more controllable. The spark box wasn't enough if they wanted to be sure he'd accomplish the tasks he'd be given. And since a robot's personality came from the spark, Dr. Clearcut and Dr. Chillcold were now inventing various ways to alter his in order to turn him into their faithful servant. They were shooting in the dark without the vaguest clue of what they were supposed to be doing. And it was a stupid idea to begin with. He could have told them that if it would have been any use.

But nothing was any use now.

And anyway, Dr. Clearcut was already arguing with Dr. Chillcold about a "plan B". She had suggested something revolutionary new and "exciting" to do with him. Meddling with his mind. Forcing images trough his brain than monitoring his mental reactions to various situations. And using that to control him. To which, of course, Dr. Chillcold had retorted with "What mental reactions?" But it appeared that he might be coaxed after all. And then Rampage would not even have his mind to escape to. Not that it was much of a better place.

In the third cell, Depth Charge was calmly staring into nothingness. He had been very calm ever since that faithful night when Rampage did not escape.

Where were you when you were supposed to protect me?

Where indeed? But the words meant nothing to him. For once X's manipulations failed to have an effect on the Guardian. And he was for once pleased that the bot in question knew it. He was content that the murderer was under control. He was calm. He felt no guilt or pity for the monster. He simply didn't care.

And he had kept on not caring for more than a week now. He consumed his energon, he passed about the small cell to stretch his legs, he thought of various things, even possible ways to escape. There was a whole living colony outside waiting for him and Starlet to rejoin it. If he could only find a way to get himself and the child out of here! He spent hours imagining Mind Game's reaction when he handed her daughter back. And then he would make sure these bastards here went straight behind bars.

He didn't pay attention when the bot next door was being dragged away and back. Thankfully, there were no more screams from that cell to disturb him. Indeed, all was surprisingly quiet.

Depth Charge was just settling in the corner for a nap when his eyes accidentally fell on the gap again. He had looked at it in the past few days, of course. Only this time his gaze lingered a little longer.

He slowly kneeled down in front of it. His hand trembled slightly.

And in a single transfiguring moment…

His fingers curled into a fist and hit the wall with all the strength he could master.

In which nothing distinguishably grand happened…

His shoulders slumped when the sound died away.

The world was reinvented…

He let his head fall in his hands and sighed quietly.

He did care after all.