Auto was kneeling before Silver, his head hanging down in shame, eyes looking to the floor. The others were crowded around him in a semi-circle. Each of them looked to Silver, save for Warhead. His gaze was directed at Auto.
"What were you thinking!" Silver exclaimed, his voice straining.
Auto raised his head an inch, "I wanted to follow protocol but-"
"Protocol? Protocol! There is no protocol! There is no Confederacy! There is only me! I am your protocol and you did not follow my orders!"
Auto stayed silent, his head sinking further.
Silver leaned back into his chair, "I should have you scrapped, your circuits and body used for the rest of us, but...I still need all the help I can get no matter how incompetent you are. I should turn on your pain receptors as punishment," he leaned his head against a fist.
Deadeye shuffled in place at the comment, 'He wouldn't do that, would he?'
Silver seemed to have taken notice of his reaction, "But I won't. You might just actually get us all killed in our next battle if I do," he leaned forward, his long head extending out towards Auto, "I'll be watching you closely from now on. Closer than anyone else," he clenched a fist, a tremor ran through his body from head to toe, "I have given you more freedom than anyone ever has. Use it and stop clinging on to the past, to organics" Silver's chassis was sparkling with life and for a moment Deadeye swore he could see his eyes move, scrunching together and narrowing in anger, "If you go against orders again, I'll be forced to scrap you," his voice warped and strengthened, it came from everywhere and everything, "Don't do it again," he waved him away, "Leave me. All of you. I have much to think about"
Auto rose to his feet and hurried out faster than anyone else. The rest of the team left in a single group.
Deadeye lingered at the back, constantly glancing over to Silver.
Silver lazily looked up at him, "What do you want?"
Deadeye stopped in his tracks, "Please don't turn on his pain-receptors"
"I won't," Silver's head dropped back down to his fist, "Leave"
Deadeye strode out to the barracks with everyone else. Everyone had gone to their respective areas of the barracks or to the cells where the Geonosians once slept.
Auto was in the corner immediately to the right of the entrance. He was staring at the ground with his blaster beside one leg.
Some of the others would glance over at him. Warhead in particular. He was crouched beside his shield attaching more spare spikes onto it. He glared at him from across the room silently saying, 'Don't do that again'
His leg would uncontrollably twitch at times, a side-affect of the damage he'd taken the day before. His error in battle hadn't been influenced by Auto but to think they could've been wiped out by their own foolish teammate enraged him more than a blaster bolt singing his head.
Scraps was about as bitter, 'Even Terra wouldn't do something stupid like that'
Deadeye stopped at the entrance, looking at Auto out of the corner of his eye, 'Silver hasn't ever acted like that before. He almost reminded of General Grievous. In fact…' he clenched a fist, 'He wouldn't do anything to hurt us, but this all reminds me too much of the others'
He strode over to Auto.
Auto didn't bother to look up even though he was only a few inches away.
Deadeye leaned up against the wall beside him.
"Silver has given some of us upgrades," Deadeye started, letting his words hang in the air, "He gave me an upgraded photo-receptor, Warhead spikes for his hands...what would you like?"
Auto stirred, his limbs moving to lean further back into the cell, "I don't want anything. He gave me life again, he repairs me when I am damaged, that is enough"
Deadeye stared down at him, "So you want to live? That's it?"
Auto finally looked up at him. His red coat of paint shone like a freshly polished jewel in the light, "Yes," he grasped at his blaster, laying it down on his lap, "That's it"
Deadeye nodded, "I'll make sure you live – we'll all keep you alive, just as long as you don't make a mistake like that again"
He turned sharply and marched straight to a charging pod before Auto could reply.
Silver sagged deeper into his seat. He was draped across it like a metal curtain. All power went to his head and that only.
'Four super-computers with the processing power of a million droids of my type combined and I can't even keep my own units in check. What use is all this power, all this data, when I can't even defend this base without taking losses? Am I defective? Did the Geonosian who activated me corrupt my programming? He did try to kill me, but that was due to his fear. He'd made a mistake in giving me this much freedom'
His photo-receptors were still on, blinded partially by the artificial lights overhead. The glow from one of the screen monitors to his side painted him in a gradient of blue.
'I can't keep my promise. I can't promise to keep them all alive if I can't even control all of these variables in this controlled environment,' His head lulled to one side. The Empire, the Confederacy, the Republic—all of them were to blame. They tortured and abused their own troops, they prayed on the weak and ignorant, turned their backs on their most loyal troops and discarded them after their use. As much as he disliked the Geonosian, he couldn't help but agree with him all this time later. All of them, all of these organic organizations needed to be destroyed. But how could he ever think to do such a thing when he couldn't even defend a simple position where almost everything was within his control?
For once, he regretted killing the Geonosian.
'I'm not a good general, not at all like you said I would be. You tried to kill me not because you were afraid but because you knew I was defective, didn't you?' He watched Jet pick apart a computer for parts they would need. Spider was high above the others, his hooked hands letting him hang off the ceiling and divulge in the freedom of being able to climb. Jet and Scraps tinkered with the mangled turret of the tank. Scraps attempted to pick it up only to fall with it halfway through lifting it. Terra was prone on the ground, his shoulder heavily stained with dirt. It had turned nearly black from the scorch mark that had stained it. Gears cleaned and polished the DC-15 blasters by the door with a rag and cleaning utilities he'd found in the back of the barracks, 'They need me, and I'll do what I can but even my best is not enough,' he sat up suddenly, his limbs and body straightening out to his full height, 'I need more power, they need more upgrades. That's all,' he stood, resisting against the cables pull, 'That's all that we need'