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"You worry to much, Spitz," Jhartix chuckled. "In time, my construct, everything will work itself out."
****
Devcon continued to flee from the Sharkticons.
Howerver, miles of pipes lay before him.
The hunt continued.
[Original RPG] New Quintessa
"Somehow I recall a certain scientist spending late hours to make deadlines and test ratios.....and you say I worry too much?" Spitz looked down at the scientist and let out a quiet laugh.
"Incarceration and torture sound like such pleasant activities Jhartix. *Spitz sighed*
I cooperate with that ..... that... him .... in the execution chamber and still get zapped for it."
He paused for a moment and glanced down.
"By the way... didn't notice before, but thanks for patching some of the damage back up- if that was you. Remind me not to go swimming again with the Sharkticons before they're fed properly.
.....Say, is that your lab up there?"
"Incarceration and torture sound like such pleasant activities Jhartix. *Spitz sighed*
I cooperate with that ..... that... him .... in the execution chamber and still get zapped for it."
He paused for a moment and glanced down.
"By the way... didn't notice before, but thanks for patching some of the damage back up- if that was you. Remind me not to go swimming again with the Sharkticons before they're fed properly.
.....Say, is that your lab up there?"
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Quick Switch
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Jhartix laughed softly.
"You have not changed...and yes, I recall those deadlines. Many of which involved your construction."
The aged scientist looked up and smiled at Spitz. He then turned back to the techno-organic walkway.
He opened his laboratory door with a password, and inclined his body in a signal meaning Spitz could enter. Jhartix sat his levitating body on a dais, and shut down his internal gyro; he sat on a relatively modest cushion in an executive type work chair.
"Be mindful," the scientist said as he watched Spitz enter. "The Imperial Magistrate still commands with an iron fist. And now, with the new Alligatorcons, his rule is secure. No other Judge dares to depose him. The Inquisitor's spy network..."
The scientist gazed above, at a security camera outside in the hallway-
"...is extensive. I am glad that the Imperial Magistrate designated me as your 'torturer'. The irony was not lost on him, you see. I built you, and now he expects me to disassemble you." The lab door shut, blocking the view of the security camera.
"But enough of this. Tell me...what have you done for the past millions of years?"
"You have not changed...and yes, I recall those deadlines. Many of which involved your construction."
The aged scientist looked up and smiled at Spitz. He then turned back to the techno-organic walkway.
He opened his laboratory door with a password, and inclined his body in a signal meaning Spitz could enter. Jhartix sat his levitating body on a dais, and shut down his internal gyro; he sat on a relatively modest cushion in an executive type work chair.
"Be mindful," the scientist said as he watched Spitz enter. "The Imperial Magistrate still commands with an iron fist. And now, with the new Alligatorcons, his rule is secure. No other Judge dares to depose him. The Inquisitor's spy network..."
The scientist gazed above, at a security camera outside in the hallway-
"...is extensive. I am glad that the Imperial Magistrate designated me as your 'torturer'. The irony was not lost on him, you see. I built you, and now he expects me to disassemble you." The lab door shut, blocking the view of the security camera.
"But enough of this. Tell me...what have you done for the past millions of years?"
"Mindful... yes." Spitz dropped his head subconciously into a well-trained submissive look at the floor as he trudged in, shackles clinking their chains.
He stood quietly for a moment before Jhartix's chair as the door slid shut.
A moment passed and he lifted his head slightly to look around. This lab had a warmer feeling to it and was lit well. He felt a sudden pain shoot across his head as he tried to gather everything, then focused back on what Jhartix was saying. He still found with a surprised feeling that he wanted to please the old scientist. He was almost repulsed by it.
"It is ironic I suppose, isn't it... No matter. I will tell you what you ask if I can.
I... wondered about you Jhartix. After- I mean. You know that I had to try. I couldn't just stand there day after day and watch those constructs being terminated. You know we have feelings and personalities... why can't the others see?
But I guess I should start with the Imperial Magistrate.
The IM became so angry when I asked him to spare the grey construct. He ordered the other two scientists to take me back for retraining- to break my programming, and show me I had no choice- no control. Then they brought you in to reset my programming and patch me back up. You know of course, that I ran, and was captured when my energy wore down in the ducts a few cycles after."
Spitz felt suddenly tired and let his head lower, then continued.
"The IM was furious then. But so much so that he didn't even want to give me a quick death. Rather than throw me to the Sharkticons, he sentenced me to the gladiator arena. The two factions you told me about- I fought many on both sides, and I was lucky in outwitting my opponents for I don't have a great deal of strength. That you know... but there was an Autobot there who took some delight in keeping things half alive and moving. He pieced us together after the battles. Then one day we heard a great noise above the incarceration cell. Gunfire, bombs and there were bright flashes. The walls were knocked out and we escaped into the middle of the war between the factions. I wandered a bit. I tried thinking I might join the Autobots, but they were sitting targets. They had no desires for rule. I thought I might join the Decepticons, and I found they had no mercy to the civilian consumor goods. I wanted one rule... but not to destroy them or the land. I took the Decepticon brand because it's closer to what I feel sometimes, but I don't always understand myself. What am I supposed to be Jhartix? You taught me about the factions... the insane behavior... what happened? Why don't I fit with any of them?"
Spitz sighed, knowing the scientist would not answer until he had finished the majority of the information requested.
"I commanded a unit of Decepticons and was working my way up in the ranks there, when one betrayed our outpost position to the Autobots. We put up a fight, but were subsequently captured and sent to the slave mines. We were forgotten I think. We worked hard, but after a while, the energon suddenly stopped being brought to us and one by one, we shut down and collapsed. Much time passed. Millions of years. Some transformers came to the mines looking for resources. They found me, and reactivated me. The rest of my unit had rusted away... but I didn't..."
Spitz glanced briefly at Jhartix with a puzzled look, but dropped his head again as his legs quivered. His energy was very low, but he tried to hide it by shifting his weight. Then he continued.
"The one promised me the ability to transform, repairs, some energon, and freedom if I would do one thing for him- and that was to allow Devcon to escape. I do not know what faction the transformer I made this deal with was from, I was never allowed to see. But I agreed, and you know that I keep my word. I stole a ship- for the greater good of course, and came here. The rest, you know. I can try..... and answer more questions Jhartix.... if you have any...... I... missed you."
The energy decrease caught up to him as he finished, and Spitz sank to his knees in front of the old scientist's chair with mixed feelings of disgust with himself and contentment.
He stood quietly for a moment before Jhartix's chair as the door slid shut.
A moment passed and he lifted his head slightly to look around. This lab had a warmer feeling to it and was lit well. He felt a sudden pain shoot across his head as he tried to gather everything, then focused back on what Jhartix was saying. He still found with a surprised feeling that he wanted to please the old scientist. He was almost repulsed by it.
"It is ironic I suppose, isn't it... No matter. I will tell you what you ask if I can.
I... wondered about you Jhartix. After- I mean. You know that I had to try. I couldn't just stand there day after day and watch those constructs being terminated. You know we have feelings and personalities... why can't the others see?
But I guess I should start with the Imperial Magistrate.
The IM became so angry when I asked him to spare the grey construct. He ordered the other two scientists to take me back for retraining- to break my programming, and show me I had no choice- no control. Then they brought you in to reset my programming and patch me back up. You know of course, that I ran, and was captured when my energy wore down in the ducts a few cycles after."
Spitz felt suddenly tired and let his head lower, then continued.
"The IM was furious then. But so much so that he didn't even want to give me a quick death. Rather than throw me to the Sharkticons, he sentenced me to the gladiator arena. The two factions you told me about- I fought many on both sides, and I was lucky in outwitting my opponents for I don't have a great deal of strength. That you know... but there was an Autobot there who took some delight in keeping things half alive and moving. He pieced us together after the battles. Then one day we heard a great noise above the incarceration cell. Gunfire, bombs and there were bright flashes. The walls were knocked out and we escaped into the middle of the war between the factions. I wandered a bit. I tried thinking I might join the Autobots, but they were sitting targets. They had no desires for rule. I thought I might join the Decepticons, and I found they had no mercy to the civilian consumor goods. I wanted one rule... but not to destroy them or the land. I took the Decepticon brand because it's closer to what I feel sometimes, but I don't always understand myself. What am I supposed to be Jhartix? You taught me about the factions... the insane behavior... what happened? Why don't I fit with any of them?"
Spitz sighed, knowing the scientist would not answer until he had finished the majority of the information requested.
"I commanded a unit of Decepticons and was working my way up in the ranks there, when one betrayed our outpost position to the Autobots. We put up a fight, but were subsequently captured and sent to the slave mines. We were forgotten I think. We worked hard, but after a while, the energon suddenly stopped being brought to us and one by one, we shut down and collapsed. Much time passed. Millions of years. Some transformers came to the mines looking for resources. They found me, and reactivated me. The rest of my unit had rusted away... but I didn't..."
Spitz glanced briefly at Jhartix with a puzzled look, but dropped his head again as his legs quivered. His energy was very low, but he tried to hide it by shifting his weight. Then he continued.
"The one promised me the ability to transform, repairs, some energon, and freedom if I would do one thing for him- and that was to allow Devcon to escape. I do not know what faction the transformer I made this deal with was from, I was never allowed to see. But I agreed, and you know that I keep my word. I stole a ship- for the greater good of course, and came here. The rest, you know. I can try..... and answer more questions Jhartix.... if you have any...... I... missed you."
The energy decrease caught up to him as he finished, and Spitz sank to his knees in front of the old scientist's chair with mixed feelings of disgust with himself and contentment.
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Jhartix looked down at Spitz on the floor, his mouth creased into a thin line, his opics somber.
He melted. His optics became expressive once more, and his mouth bent into a wistful frown...then smile.
"I will answer your questions in the order you have presented them..." he began.
Jhartix paused, thinking. The soft whirs of the various mechanical devices set off a pleasant cacaphony for both he and Spitz's audio receptors.
"Most of my Brethren- the Judges, Executioners, and of course, the Inquisitor and the Imperial Magistrate- view you merely as "the Product." You were built to serve a specific function...and when the other constructs developed 'defective' mentatlities-that is, true sentience, feelings, and a willful disposition- they were terminated."
Pause.
"The gray construct...Megatron, I believe his name was...was always trouble for the Imperial Magistrate and the other Presiding Judges. He...displayed too much ambition. The other constructs listened to him, and not to the Presiding Judges who gave the orders. And, of course, with your fusion of the personalities...you sparing Megatron was too much for the Imperial Magistrate."
Jhartix didn't even to attempt to stop the drops of lubricant fluid which leaked from his optics.
"The Inquisitor himself came to this lab all those years ago and told me the Imperial Magistrate had decreed you were to die in the Arena. How he laughed... Even then, he was a sycophant...but then, how can the Inquisitor avoid his internal programming, in that amalagam of metal and flesh? I pity him."
He pondered the question of the Transformer factions for a time. Then:
"Their very natures make compromise impossible. Indeed, that was the Imperial Magistrate's plan from the beginning. He knew that perhaps, one day, the Guardians would not be enough to protect the Quintesson interests. Thus, the Sharkticons and Alligatorcons were constructed. But...forgive me...my central processing unit is not as lucid as it once was."
The Quintesson scientist activated his internal gyro and levitated down from the chair and stood adjacent to the nearly prostrated Spitz.
"Stop this! You are unique! Of all the Transformers, you alone see the madness of this Civil War."
If he had appendages, Jhartix would have placed one on Spitz's shoulder. But alas, he did not.
"You have learned much, and the ability to transform has changed your perceptions...and that I admire. This Devcon...known as the bounty hunter...intrigues me...why is he so important? He has no connection to either faction. He is aberrant, an Autobot who actually seeks to be a vigilante. This is obviously a programming error...more importantly, who is manipulating you to act as his savior, and why?"
Jhartix slowly hovered around the room; the Quintesson equivalent of pacing.
"He may not come back...as a whole, the Autobots are passive and weak. That is why the Decepticons conquered Cybertron in 2005, and that is why they will do so again. The Autobots lack the killing instinct. Even their greatest leader, Optimus Prime, cannot end this war..."
He turned back to Spitz.
"Instead, the Decepticons will slaughter the Autobots, and the Autobots will simply stall the Decepticons from taking Cybertron again at the expense of their own standing. It will not change."
Jhartix smiled again, and returned to his creation's side.
"But let us forget this for a time. The important thing is this: you have returned. I, too, have missed our time together. Perhaps, covertly, we may change things for the better."
He melted. His optics became expressive once more, and his mouth bent into a wistful frown...then smile.
"I will answer your questions in the order you have presented them..." he began.
Jhartix paused, thinking. The soft whirs of the various mechanical devices set off a pleasant cacaphony for both he and Spitz's audio receptors.
"Most of my Brethren- the Judges, Executioners, and of course, the Inquisitor and the Imperial Magistrate- view you merely as "the Product." You were built to serve a specific function...and when the other constructs developed 'defective' mentatlities-that is, true sentience, feelings, and a willful disposition- they were terminated."
Pause.
"The gray construct...Megatron, I believe his name was...was always trouble for the Imperial Magistrate and the other Presiding Judges. He...displayed too much ambition. The other constructs listened to him, and not to the Presiding Judges who gave the orders. And, of course, with your fusion of the personalities...you sparing Megatron was too much for the Imperial Magistrate."
Jhartix didn't even to attempt to stop the drops of lubricant fluid which leaked from his optics.
"The Inquisitor himself came to this lab all those years ago and told me the Imperial Magistrate had decreed you were to die in the Arena. How he laughed... Even then, he was a sycophant...but then, how can the Inquisitor avoid his internal programming, in that amalagam of metal and flesh? I pity him."
He pondered the question of the Transformer factions for a time. Then:
"Their very natures make compromise impossible. Indeed, that was the Imperial Magistrate's plan from the beginning. He knew that perhaps, one day, the Guardians would not be enough to protect the Quintesson interests. Thus, the Sharkticons and Alligatorcons were constructed. But...forgive me...my central processing unit is not as lucid as it once was."
The Quintesson scientist activated his internal gyro and levitated down from the chair and stood adjacent to the nearly prostrated Spitz.
"Stop this! You are unique! Of all the Transformers, you alone see the madness of this Civil War."
If he had appendages, Jhartix would have placed one on Spitz's shoulder. But alas, he did not.
"You have learned much, and the ability to transform has changed your perceptions...and that I admire. This Devcon...known as the bounty hunter...intrigues me...why is he so important? He has no connection to either faction. He is aberrant, an Autobot who actually seeks to be a vigilante. This is obviously a programming error...more importantly, who is manipulating you to act as his savior, and why?"
Jhartix slowly hovered around the room; the Quintesson equivalent of pacing.
"He may not come back...as a whole, the Autobots are passive and weak. That is why the Decepticons conquered Cybertron in 2005, and that is why they will do so again. The Autobots lack the killing instinct. Even their greatest leader, Optimus Prime, cannot end this war..."
He turned back to Spitz.
"Instead, the Decepticons will slaughter the Autobots, and the Autobots will simply stall the Decepticons from taking Cybertron again at the expense of their own standing. It will not change."
Jhartix smiled again, and returned to his creation's side.
"But let us forget this for a time. The important thing is this: you have returned. I, too, have missed our time together. Perhaps, covertly, we may change things for the better."
Spitz listened carefully to Jhartix as he answered.
At the mention of Megatron's name, Spitz's optics widened.
Megatron?! And I wanted the IM to spare his life force? Could that be possible? Can I really be the only construct to see the futility and insane nature of this war?
Then Devcon's image raced through his mind again and Spitz's eyes flashed a bit at the idea of being manipulated, but he kept his silence until Jhartix had finished speaking.
He did his best to focus, but was becoming aware of an increasingly numb feeling working its way up his legs.
"I will stop as you bid. And I would answer your questions... about the Autobot if I knew more.
I hope he does not return... for you would be in danger... I think. I was wrong to come here, but change for the better is good."
Spitz managed a faint chuckle as he struggled to keep his balance. "I'm not in a position... to argue your suggestion."
He paused.
"If I stay here though... you will be in danger from the IM and maybe... the Autobot too. I'd love... to crack that pompous egg. You would be such a great IM... Jhartix!
You know... I can't... promise to stay, but...I would protect you..... I promise that, and we could try to...make things better... covertly."
Spitz closed his optics.
"Sorry- so little energy left Jhartix. The deal was more energon... after Devcon escaped. So tired... misjudged fuel consumption for the transformations... to get here."
At the mention of Megatron's name, Spitz's optics widened.
Megatron?! And I wanted the IM to spare his life force? Could that be possible? Can I really be the only construct to see the futility and insane nature of this war?
Then Devcon's image raced through his mind again and Spitz's eyes flashed a bit at the idea of being manipulated, but he kept his silence until Jhartix had finished speaking.
He did his best to focus, but was becoming aware of an increasingly numb feeling working its way up his legs.
"I will stop as you bid. And I would answer your questions... about the Autobot if I knew more.
I hope he does not return... for you would be in danger... I think. I was wrong to come here, but change for the better is good."
Spitz managed a faint chuckle as he struggled to keep his balance. "I'm not in a position... to argue your suggestion."
He paused.
"If I stay here though... you will be in danger from the IM and maybe... the Autobot too. I'd love... to crack that pompous egg. You would be such a great IM... Jhartix!
You know... I can't... promise to stay, but...I would protect you..... I promise that, and we could try to...make things better... covertly."
Spitz closed his optics.
"Sorry- so little energy left Jhartix. The deal was more energon... after Devcon escaped. So tired... misjudged fuel consumption for the transformations... to get here."
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Jhartix nodded.
"Your concern for me is appreciated..."
He indicated a recharge bed.
"Energon is such a crude material. After all these years, that is all the Decepticons have managed to create. Typical of a communications robot being in charge of energy production for an entire faction. Soundwave, I believe the robot's name is. Arrogant and sadistic. I remember his construction.... At the time, his design was innovative, but the costs of production kept more of his ilk from being produced. At any rate...use the recharge bed there. It is much more efficient."
Jhartix shrugged.
"The Autobot is of no concern to me. As for the Imperial Magistrate...that is a different matter. And your sentiments...while rather brash, may have merit. Regime change is a delicate operation, after all. Thank for your confidence. Now, recharge, Spitz. Creator's orders."
The Quintesson laughed merrily at this.
"Your concern for me is appreciated..."
He indicated a recharge bed.
"Energon is such a crude material. After all these years, that is all the Decepticons have managed to create. Typical of a communications robot being in charge of energy production for an entire faction. Soundwave, I believe the robot's name is. Arrogant and sadistic. I remember his construction.... At the time, his design was innovative, but the costs of production kept more of his ilk from being produced. At any rate...use the recharge bed there. It is much more efficient."
Jhartix shrugged.
"The Autobot is of no concern to me. As for the Imperial Magistrate...that is a different matter. And your sentiments...while rather brash, may have merit. Regime change is a delicate operation, after all. Thank for your confidence. Now, recharge, Spitz. Creator's orders."
The Quintesson laughed merrily at this.
Head hurts... Spitz thought as he tried to listen. Soundwave? I've heard--- name before. Communications... ...can't remember.
Regime change... slowly... yes- wait, no. Fast is better. But here? Need rest, energy.
Spitz heard the laughs, and his mind jumped. For a brief moment, it didn't sound like friendly laughs, it sounded almost mocking. He drew out what energy he could muster and stood, glaring at the shackles for an instant before he was able to clear his mind. He flicked an accepting and grateful smile to Jhartix, then half stumbled over to the recharge bed, hitting it shoulder-first and then managed to pull himself up the rest of the way. Finally, he lay back, drained. It should have only taken moments for him to go into a semi-conscious state to recharge, but one thought nagged at his mind and kept him in unease. He slowly rolled his head towards the old scientist and studied him with dark and fading opics.
"Jhartix... what if... come check? Don't want... have you... in... dang... err."
The last of his reserve energy spent, Spitz lay still as the darkness crept in while his body shut itself down to recharge.
Regime change... slowly... yes- wait, no. Fast is better. But here? Need rest, energy.
Spitz heard the laughs, and his mind jumped. For a brief moment, it didn't sound like friendly laughs, it sounded almost mocking. He drew out what energy he could muster and stood, glaring at the shackles for an instant before he was able to clear his mind. He flicked an accepting and grateful smile to Jhartix, then half stumbled over to the recharge bed, hitting it shoulder-first and then managed to pull himself up the rest of the way. Finally, he lay back, drained. It should have only taken moments for him to go into a semi-conscious state to recharge, but one thought nagged at his mind and kept him in unease. He slowly rolled his head towards the old scientist and studied him with dark and fading opics.
"Jhartix... what if... come check? Don't want... have you... in... dang... err."
The last of his reserve energy spent, Spitz lay still as the darkness crept in while his body shut itself down to recharge.
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Jhartrix sighed as Spitz drifted off to "sleep" ensconced in the recharge bed.
"Do not worry," the aged scientist said to his by-now sleeping construct. "All will be well."
****
Up above secreted in an alcove of the lab, a security camera clicked and zoomed in. An audial sensor was picking up the short conversations...
****
Miles away in the twisted planet, the Quintesson Inquisitor, standing behind a massive communications consle, whipped his tentacles in a frenzied rage. The Sharkticon guards cowered.
"How dare that aged fool plot treason!" The Inquistor was nearly frothing at his elongated mouth. "Jhartix...pities me does he? Because of my...flawed nature?"
The Inquisitor wheeled about, and struck at the nearest Sharkticon guard with all of his tentacles. The dumb brute was decapitated and had its limbs torn off at the force of the snake-like tentacle motions. It was over in seconds; the Sharkticon lay in pieces.
The remaining Sharkticons stared blankly ahead. To move was to die.
"So...I'll keep this secret for now...but soon...you too will receive your sentence," the Inquisitor turned back to the screen and watched Jhatrix putter over the prone Spitz. With one hiss of rage, a tentacle snapped out and turned off the communications console.
The resounding whip-crack of the tentacle's movement echoed in the cavernous chamber.
"Do not worry," the aged scientist said to his by-now sleeping construct. "All will be well."
****
Up above secreted in an alcove of the lab, a security camera clicked and zoomed in. An audial sensor was picking up the short conversations...
****
Miles away in the twisted planet, the Quintesson Inquisitor, standing behind a massive communications consle, whipped his tentacles in a frenzied rage. The Sharkticon guards cowered.
"How dare that aged fool plot treason!" The Inquistor was nearly frothing at his elongated mouth. "Jhartix...pities me does he? Because of my...flawed nature?"
The Inquisitor wheeled about, and struck at the nearest Sharkticon guard with all of his tentacles. The dumb brute was decapitated and had its limbs torn off at the force of the snake-like tentacle motions. It was over in seconds; the Sharkticon lay in pieces.
The remaining Sharkticons stared blankly ahead. To move was to die.
"So...I'll keep this secret for now...but soon...you too will receive your sentence," the Inquisitor turned back to the screen and watched Jhatrix putter over the prone Spitz. With one hiss of rage, a tentacle snapped out and turned off the communications console.
The resounding whip-crack of the tentacle's movement echoed in the cavernous chamber.
Almost an entire cycle passed before Spitz stirred. Awareness slowly crept into his complete recharge mode as his energy reached maximum levels and his systems restarted. It was quiet around, save for a peaceful faint humming. The lab noises emminating from the standard equipment here were familiar memories. His dark purple optics opened as he regained consciousness. The lab was lit by the green standby light. Data recording modules lay stacked neatly on a table just to his left. Then it occured to him... his head didn't hurt anymore, and neither did the assortment of knocks he had taken before or the burn from the stun weapon the Alligatorcons had used, but he didn't have time to wonder. For a brief moment, his mind jumped back and the thought that he needed to get up and start his daily chores in the lab came back to him.
Jhartix must have gone out for a bit. Wonder how long I was out?
He sat up and then glanced at his wrists, remembering the prior events. The cumbersome shackles had now been replaced by lighter training bands.
Well, guess I can't complain there. He has to look like he's in charge- but this isn't good. Not that these bands are bad of course, they were a wise idea. But the IM specifically said for him to work me over and have it filmed. That cracked-egg will make sure the orders he gives are followed up somehow- sick slag reject. Jhartix is just too good natured to realize the trouble he's bringing down on himself taking me on like this. He'll need some proof he followed orders...
I should never have come back here. That Autobot- I'm sure he'll try and come back, and that'll mean trouble for any Quintesson he runs across. Jhartix won't be safe here, and he won't be safe outside. The Quintessons are a despised race because of that slagging IM. Only chance is to take out the trash judges, put Jhartix in there or someone he knows...
Spitz paused.
Wait now- too fast. Even Jhartix has had to do things he's ordered. Power comes over time, and I'm still a captive and going nowhere fast. Can't push the line- have to let him take the lead and do as he asks. He's got the debt card and I owe him more than I can pay right now.
Spitz paused and glanced at his wrists and ankle bands again. Just hope he doesn't think I want to be a test subject again. Still, in the meantime, I should make myself useful until he comes back.
Spitz eased up, and had just grabbed a nearby floor brush, when he noticed Jhartix working at a desk at the far end of the expansive room. Spitz chuckled warmly under his breath. He had been trained not to interrupt the scientist's studies, so he started the familiar cleaning routine.
Jhartix must have gone out for a bit. Wonder how long I was out?
He sat up and then glanced at his wrists, remembering the prior events. The cumbersome shackles had now been replaced by lighter training bands.
Well, guess I can't complain there. He has to look like he's in charge- but this isn't good. Not that these bands are bad of course, they were a wise idea. But the IM specifically said for him to work me over and have it filmed. That cracked-egg will make sure the orders he gives are followed up somehow- sick slag reject. Jhartix is just too good natured to realize the trouble he's bringing down on himself taking me on like this. He'll need some proof he followed orders...
I should never have come back here. That Autobot- I'm sure he'll try and come back, and that'll mean trouble for any Quintesson he runs across. Jhartix won't be safe here, and he won't be safe outside. The Quintessons are a despised race because of that slagging IM. Only chance is to take out the trash judges, put Jhartix in there or someone he knows...
Spitz paused.
Wait now- too fast. Even Jhartix has had to do things he's ordered. Power comes over time, and I'm still a captive and going nowhere fast. Can't push the line- have to let him take the lead and do as he asks. He's got the debt card and I owe him more than I can pay right now.
Spitz paused and glanced at his wrists and ankle bands again. Just hope he doesn't think I want to be a test subject again. Still, in the meantime, I should make myself useful until he comes back.
Spitz eased up, and had just grabbed a nearby floor brush, when he noticed Jhartix working at a desk at the far end of the expansive room. Spitz chuckled warmly under his breath. He had been trained not to interrupt the scientist's studies, so he started the familiar cleaning routine.
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- Location: The Core.
Jhartix sat at his work desk, various monitors viewing different components of Spitz's body on a highpowered disc.
"The transformation cog is a work of art," the scientist muttered. "Makes the Alligatorcons and Sharkticons look as primitive as they should be..."
Next screen.
"And the sentience program has blossomed as I had hoped. Numerous directives are operating independently of one another...even on a higher level when Spitz left my care..."
Next screen.
"Just perfect...and what utility...more than the sum of his parts, indeed."
Jhatrix shut off the viewscreens and watched silently as his construct went about his cleaning duties.
"I see millions of years in shutdown hasn't tripped your consistency programs. You're running through the same cleaning algorithms I programmed into you all those years ago. Wonderful."
The scientist got up and levitated around the lab, getting a closer look as Spitz worked.
"Right down to the same strokes and movements. Ah, Spitz, you amaze me. So tell me, how is it to transform oneself into something else, yet retain...well, yourself?" the scientist was chuckling as he stumbled over the hazy terminology.
"The transformation cog is a work of art," the scientist muttered. "Makes the Alligatorcons and Sharkticons look as primitive as they should be..."
Next screen.
"And the sentience program has blossomed as I had hoped. Numerous directives are operating independently of one another...even on a higher level when Spitz left my care..."
Next screen.
"Just perfect...and what utility...more than the sum of his parts, indeed."
Jhatrix shut off the viewscreens and watched silently as his construct went about his cleaning duties.
"I see millions of years in shutdown hasn't tripped your consistency programs. You're running through the same cleaning algorithms I programmed into you all those years ago. Wonderful."
The scientist got up and levitated around the lab, getting a closer look as Spitz worked.
"Right down to the same strokes and movements. Ah, Spitz, you amaze me. So tell me, how is it to transform oneself into something else, yet retain...well, yourself?" the scientist was chuckling as he stumbled over the hazy terminology.
"Nothing amazing about this Jhartix," Spitz flashed a grin and laughed- completely at ease. "I've done it so often that I'm surprised I wasn't doing it while I was recharging. Thanks for fixing me up Jhartix- I owe you big-time, again." He paused briefly and got a more somber look, but still held the friendly smile. "It's the other stuff that you'll find more interesting than my cleaning routines, but let's hope not too amazing. I'm still- adjusting to everything."
Spitz started working again as he thought about how to answer. Jhartix was such a fascination for him, and he knew that he posed the same for his scientist friend. Yet, the transformation question lingered and he debated on how best to answer it.
"It's tough to answer that question Jhartix. I didn't like the changing... transformations... at first, but it was a necessity mostly because I didn't have a choice and needed to get around too. It still feels odd- and just a bit- almost wrong, to have parts and pieces of my body twist and turn. When I was reactivated, the robot that did it had reworked my frame. It's so complicated. It was a lot easier to simply exist before, but now with these forms- I have more power, and I like that aspect- a lot."
Spitz's eyes flashed with a spunky look and he shot a grin at Jhartix.
"The jet form that the robot gave me... it works great! It's fast enough for my needs and has good firepower. I'm short range compared to some of the guys I led and worked with, but I was really more useful thinking about strategies. And I was there when I was needed. In jet form, I'm aware of everything around, just like when I'm in robot mode. It's really fantastic! Even though the body changes shape, the mind is still the same..."
Spitz paused,looked up at Jhartix briefly; froze, and then looked away, closing his optics and grinding his teeth.
"...mostly. The jet form wasn't all that happened, Jhartix. The slaggin' robot also made me into a bird for Primus' sake! An avian?! What kind of robot winds up with that kind of transformation anyway? I can't even think clearly when I'm in that form. I can't even control myself. Oh yes... "Be patient," this guy told me. "They're new forms and you'll get used to them eventually." But there's no getting used to this one Jhartix! I'm supposed to be a Decepticon and it's so... strange- it's... it's embarassing!" Spitz looked back at Jhartix, his optics showing a mix of fury and frustration. There was a brief pause and then he broke into laughter and started cleaning again with a sigh.
"Please forgive the tantrum my friend. Everything is just- so different and I don't understand why things had to fall as they did. Life was much simpler when all we had to worry about were order acceptance goals and delivery comprehension protocols. So many 'whys' are stuck in my head now. At least there's one less now that I'm sure you know about all that." Spitz finished and rested contentedly against the wall.
Spitz started working again as he thought about how to answer. Jhartix was such a fascination for him, and he knew that he posed the same for his scientist friend. Yet, the transformation question lingered and he debated on how best to answer it.
"It's tough to answer that question Jhartix. I didn't like the changing... transformations... at first, but it was a necessity mostly because I didn't have a choice and needed to get around too. It still feels odd- and just a bit- almost wrong, to have parts and pieces of my body twist and turn. When I was reactivated, the robot that did it had reworked my frame. It's so complicated. It was a lot easier to simply exist before, but now with these forms- I have more power, and I like that aspect- a lot."
Spitz's eyes flashed with a spunky look and he shot a grin at Jhartix.
"The jet form that the robot gave me... it works great! It's fast enough for my needs and has good firepower. I'm short range compared to some of the guys I led and worked with, but I was really more useful thinking about strategies. And I was there when I was needed. In jet form, I'm aware of everything around, just like when I'm in robot mode. It's really fantastic! Even though the body changes shape, the mind is still the same..."
Spitz paused,looked up at Jhartix briefly; froze, and then looked away, closing his optics and grinding his teeth.
"...mostly. The jet form wasn't all that happened, Jhartix. The slaggin' robot also made me into a bird for Primus' sake! An avian?! What kind of robot winds up with that kind of transformation anyway? I can't even think clearly when I'm in that form. I can't even control myself. Oh yes... "Be patient," this guy told me. "They're new forms and you'll get used to them eventually." But there's no getting used to this one Jhartix! I'm supposed to be a Decepticon and it's so... strange- it's... it's embarassing!" Spitz looked back at Jhartix, his optics showing a mix of fury and frustration. There was a brief pause and then he broke into laughter and started cleaning again with a sigh.
"Please forgive the tantrum my friend. Everything is just- so different and I don't understand why things had to fall as they did. Life was much simpler when all we had to worry about were order acceptance goals and delivery comprehension protocols. So many 'whys' are stuck in my head now. At least there's one less now that I'm sure you know about all that." Spitz finished and rested contentedly against the wall.
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Quick Switch
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Jhartix listened raptly as Spitz spoke.
"I see. Fascinating. The physical form changes, yet the mental state remains static yet fluid as situations shift..." The Quintesson shook his head (well, himself actually) in awe.
Jhartix mumbled into a food processor (since he lacked physical appendages, most of the lab was run on a vocoder coding system) and looked back at the Transformer, smiling.
"You are, then, a Triple Changer; an elite group of warriors. Astrotrain, Blitzwing, Springer...there are only a few in the entire Transformer race."
A viewscreen appeared and showed a picture of Astrotrain wearing his formal cape (which folowed smoothly over his wings to hang down on his back) at Gigatron's coronation. His hands were behind his back, and his normally inscruitable face was masked in a stoic vise (yet prideful) as his master was crowned.
"This is Astrotrain. Second in Command of the Loyalist forces of the Decepticon Army, serving under Teratron, the self-styled 'Lord' of the Decepticons. Astrotrain commands one of the massive 'city-bots,' his formal title is City Commander." The viewscreen panned in front of Astrotrain to show the massive form of the multi-changer alt-verse Decepticon. "This is to show you that your abilities mark you above and beyond the average robot- even with your initital programming."
The camera zoomed in on Astrotrain.
"Interesting case, that robot. Rose from a military transport to a key administrator in a few short months solely on merit. Perhaps you worked with him when you led your band?...The Imperial Magistrate has been watching him," the scientist remarked darkly.
Astrotrain disappeared as the viewer was turned off. Jhartix sighed.
"I'm sorry...my mind...wanders more and more these days. Where were we? Ah yes. Your transformations. Now, the best advice I can offer you about your avian mode is to gently ingratiate yourself with all its gifts and limitations, so you fully understand and appreciate it- along with your more 'standard' jet fighter mode. These things take time. Cybertron wasn't built in a day, you know," Jhatrix laughed.
A drinking beaker appeared out of the processor, filled with pink liquid.
"Drink this," he indicated the drink to Spitz as he was leaning against the wall. "It is a high energy forumla which I devised myself. It is at least ten times as effective as Energon...though one glass should last you for the rest of the day."
"I see. Fascinating. The physical form changes, yet the mental state remains static yet fluid as situations shift..." The Quintesson shook his head (well, himself actually) in awe.
Jhartix mumbled into a food processor (since he lacked physical appendages, most of the lab was run on a vocoder coding system) and looked back at the Transformer, smiling.
"You are, then, a Triple Changer; an elite group of warriors. Astrotrain, Blitzwing, Springer...there are only a few in the entire Transformer race."
A viewscreen appeared and showed a picture of Astrotrain wearing his formal cape (which folowed smoothly over his wings to hang down on his back) at Gigatron's coronation. His hands were behind his back, and his normally inscruitable face was masked in a stoic vise (yet prideful) as his master was crowned.
"This is Astrotrain. Second in Command of the Loyalist forces of the Decepticon Army, serving under Teratron, the self-styled 'Lord' of the Decepticons. Astrotrain commands one of the massive 'city-bots,' his formal title is City Commander." The viewscreen panned in front of Astrotrain to show the massive form of the multi-changer alt-verse Decepticon. "This is to show you that your abilities mark you above and beyond the average robot- even with your initital programming."
The camera zoomed in on Astrotrain.
"Interesting case, that robot. Rose from a military transport to a key administrator in a few short months solely on merit. Perhaps you worked with him when you led your band?...The Imperial Magistrate has been watching him," the scientist remarked darkly.
Astrotrain disappeared as the viewer was turned off. Jhartix sighed.
"I'm sorry...my mind...wanders more and more these days. Where were we? Ah yes. Your transformations. Now, the best advice I can offer you about your avian mode is to gently ingratiate yourself with all its gifts and limitations, so you fully understand and appreciate it- along with your more 'standard' jet fighter mode. These things take time. Cybertron wasn't built in a day, you know," Jhatrix laughed.
A drinking beaker appeared out of the processor, filled with pink liquid.
"Drink this," he indicated the drink to Spitz as he was leaning against the wall. "It is a high energy forumla which I devised myself. It is at least ten times as effective as Energon...though one glass should last you for the rest of the day."
Spitz chuckled warmly. "Elite huh? If they have as much trouble as I do, no wonder there are so few. But other 'triple changers'? I'm not alone?" He straightened and studied the screen with a transfixed look.
"Astrotrain... Astrotrain. No, didn't serve under him directly. I was in charge of a region outpost- 24 command unit and only reported relay transmissions- but I've heard of him, and Springer too. Springer... and something about wrecking."
His thoughts got interrupted. Spitz looked at Jhartix as the scientist handed the drink over. Spitz sniffed at it and eyed it briefly with a curious expression and shook it slightly, causing little crackles. "Not that I mind at all, Jhartix, but 10 times more powerful? What did you make it from, and why is it pink?" But without waiting for an answer, he downed the entire beaker in moments. Spitz flashed a grin at Jhartix to show he was teasing. "Hope you tested that. Otherwise this could be interesting shortly. But what have you been doing these many years my friend?"
"Astrotrain... Astrotrain. No, didn't serve under him directly. I was in charge of a region outpost- 24 command unit and only reported relay transmissions- but I've heard of him, and Springer too. Springer... and something about wrecking."
His thoughts got interrupted. Spitz looked at Jhartix as the scientist handed the drink over. Spitz sniffed at it and eyed it briefly with a curious expression and shook it slightly, causing little crackles. "Not that I mind at all, Jhartix, but 10 times more powerful? What did you make it from, and why is it pink?" But without waiting for an answer, he downed the entire beaker in moments. Spitz flashed a grin at Jhartix to show he was teasing. "Hope you tested that. Otherwise this could be interesting shortly. But what have you been doing these many years my friend?"
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Quick Switch
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"The Wreckers," Jhartix laughed at the absurd name of the Autobot vigilante/commando team, "self-styled thugs who believe they serve a higher purpose by not following the established Autobot command structure..."
The scientist paused, trying to remember.
"Ah, just some complex synthetic materials...the taste is, I've heard, rather distinctive. I don't drink it myself. I recharge naturally, but for a quick boost, well, nothing beats it."
Jhartix sat back on his chair.
"Well...I've designed more lines of robots than I remember. Nothing up to your standard- the Imperial Magistrate slapped a few Work Restrictions on me- basically upgrades to those loathsome Sharkticons and Allagatorcons...I've been writing some. Publishing a few articles in the other sections of the Dominion. I've been reading the Lithonian Chronicles- banned, you know- by a Lithonian named Kranix. Brilliant scientist. And some other papers by an engineer named Arblus. Dry, but just as innovative."
He debated on whether telling Spitz what he knew, and then spoke:
"The Lithonians were neary wiped out by Unicron, a massive war robot-planetoid created by Primacron, the organic scientist you've already seen. The Imperial Magistrate and the Inquisitor sentenced Kranix and Arblus to death on Old Quintessa before the Autobots arrived and started the Sharkticon Rebellion...such cruelty...what an ignoble end to such a noble race. I would have liked to have worked with Kranix..."
Jhartix then began to drift a little bit in his reveries...
The scientist paused, trying to remember.
"Ah, just some complex synthetic materials...the taste is, I've heard, rather distinctive. I don't drink it myself. I recharge naturally, but for a quick boost, well, nothing beats it."
Jhartix sat back on his chair.
"Well...I've designed more lines of robots than I remember. Nothing up to your standard- the Imperial Magistrate slapped a few Work Restrictions on me- basically upgrades to those loathsome Sharkticons and Allagatorcons...I've been writing some. Publishing a few articles in the other sections of the Dominion. I've been reading the Lithonian Chronicles- banned, you know- by a Lithonian named Kranix. Brilliant scientist. And some other papers by an engineer named Arblus. Dry, but just as innovative."
He debated on whether telling Spitz what he knew, and then spoke:
"The Lithonians were neary wiped out by Unicron, a massive war robot-planetoid created by Primacron, the organic scientist you've already seen. The Imperial Magistrate and the Inquisitor sentenced Kranix and Arblus to death on Old Quintessa before the Autobots arrived and started the Sharkticon Rebellion...such cruelty...what an ignoble end to such a noble race. I would have liked to have worked with Kranix..."
Jhartix then began to drift a little bit in his reveries...
It took several minutes before the taste and effects of the drink hit. Spitz's mouth turned down at the corners and his nose burned. His engines geared up in pitch and he swallowed hard several times as Jhartix was speaking, but stayed quiet, trying to focus.
Not horrible, but so strong. Distinctive is right! What is this stuff? Sharkticon filtering oil? *pause* .....and I hope he's got lots more of it. Oh wait- no, maybe not. What if the IM has it?
Spitz waited some time, thinking quietly to himself, then spoke outloud.
"Wreckers... *pause with a smirk* Yes that's them. Autobots who don't seem to fit the Autobot traits. I almost hoped they would show up. That Autobot- Devcon, almost seemed like one except he wasn't very formidable. If the dispatch message was to be believed, the Wreckers would be the downfall of the whole Decepticon entity. Autobots really are interesting constructs."
Spitz paused a moment. In split instant he went from a curious and contemplating authorative look to a submissive one, optics diverted and head down as he thought and spoke. The energy had taken effect fully and he fidgeted as he ran through thoughts very quickly.
Jhartix, I know you study and write- it's your main function, and I'd like very much to read what you've written. The articles from Kranix and Arblus sound really interesting to me as well.
I know you told me not to worry. I'm worried though. If there's one thing I learned from being a Decepticon, it's to watch your back. This energy drink you gave me is strong. It could be of terrific use, but does the Imperial Magistrate know about it? If he has this- it could be really bad news. Already, he will have us taken apart - or worse- if he finds out you didn't follow through with his orders."
Spitz stopped, froze and flashed a quick glance up, before looking away and continuing.
"I have so much to ask you, but you'll need proof that you followed the IM's orders eventually. They could call you out again anytime- they might send someone here to check up on you too. They might even know now.
That Primacron really--- he set me off. He's a dangerous creature, but the Inquisitor is as well, and from what you said, he'd love to see both of us in pieces. Anyway, do you know if the reprogrammers filmed the reprogramming session after the IM sent me back? Perhaps that could be of some use?"
Spitz caught himself and forced the fidgeting to stop, then waited.
Not horrible, but so strong. Distinctive is right! What is this stuff? Sharkticon filtering oil? *pause* .....and I hope he's got lots more of it. Oh wait- no, maybe not. What if the IM has it?
Spitz waited some time, thinking quietly to himself, then spoke outloud.
"Wreckers... *pause with a smirk* Yes that's them. Autobots who don't seem to fit the Autobot traits. I almost hoped they would show up. That Autobot- Devcon, almost seemed like one except he wasn't very formidable. If the dispatch message was to be believed, the Wreckers would be the downfall of the whole Decepticon entity. Autobots really are interesting constructs."
Spitz paused a moment. In split instant he went from a curious and contemplating authorative look to a submissive one, optics diverted and head down as he thought and spoke. The energy had taken effect fully and he fidgeted as he ran through thoughts very quickly.
Jhartix, I know you study and write- it's your main function, and I'd like very much to read what you've written. The articles from Kranix and Arblus sound really interesting to me as well.
I know you told me not to worry. I'm worried though. If there's one thing I learned from being a Decepticon, it's to watch your back. This energy drink you gave me is strong. It could be of terrific use, but does the Imperial Magistrate know about it? If he has this- it could be really bad news. Already, he will have us taken apart - or worse- if he finds out you didn't follow through with his orders."
Spitz stopped, froze and flashed a quick glance up, before looking away and continuing.
"I have so much to ask you, but you'll need proof that you followed the IM's orders eventually. They could call you out again anytime- they might send someone here to check up on you too. They might even know now.
That Primacron really--- he set me off. He's a dangerous creature, but the Inquisitor is as well, and from what you said, he'd love to see both of us in pieces. Anyway, do you know if the reprogrammers filmed the reprogramming session after the IM sent me back? Perhaps that could be of some use?"
Spitz caught himself and forced the fidgeting to stop, then waited.
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Quick Switch
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Jhartix snapped out of his reverie as Spitz began speaking-
"Ah, well, it's really only a prototype for an even more concentrated energy formula. The Imperial Magistrate does not know of its inception."
He began to rummage around the lab.
"I see...I have found a few copies of the first abortive reprogramming session- the one from which you escaped- but I could continuosly loop the feed and other various editing tricks...I suppose you are right. The Imperial Magistrate will send someone here eventually..."
At that moment, Primacron entered, clutching a clipboard and tools.
"Jhartix, the Imperial Magistrate wants a status report...what do you have to tell him?"
"Ah well...as you can see...Spitz is recovering from...uh..." Jhartix stammered.
"Perhaps your rebellious little construct can tell me," Primacron rasped, looking up at Spitz. "So. You don't have any marks on you. What has your old fogey creator subjected you to?"
"Ah, well, it's really only a prototype for an even more concentrated energy formula. The Imperial Magistrate does not know of its inception."
He began to rummage around the lab.
"I see...I have found a few copies of the first abortive reprogramming session- the one from which you escaped- but I could continuosly loop the feed and other various editing tricks...I suppose you are right. The Imperial Magistrate will send someone here eventually..."
At that moment, Primacron entered, clutching a clipboard and tools.
"Jhartix, the Imperial Magistrate wants a status report...what do you have to tell him?"
"Ah well...as you can see...Spitz is recovering from...uh..." Jhartix stammered.
"Perhaps your rebellious little construct can tell me," Primacron rasped, looking up at Spitz. "So. You don't have any marks on you. What has your old fogey creator subjected you to?"
At the news of the drink only being a prototype, Spitz felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was short-lived as he heard the door slide open. He froze, head and optics still downturned. One thought went through his mind...
Slag!
He didn't twitch an optic as Primacron stared at and then addressed him, but rather stared oddly into the space of the floor. In a moment, Spitz adjusted his voice module programming internally to negate tonal changes. He stayed locked into place.
"Information requisition acknowledged. Directive stands from being identified as Primacron. Authority acknowledged and accepted.
Unit Two has voice module and basic processor in tact and functional. Data storage device panels are inaccessible. They cannot be found by Unit Two's basic processor. Unit Two's automatic movement panel has been disabled and is set to manual status. Unit Two is on standby mode awaiting further directives."
Slag!
He didn't twitch an optic as Primacron stared at and then addressed him, but rather stared oddly into the space of the floor. In a moment, Spitz adjusted his voice module programming internally to negate tonal changes. He stayed locked into place.
"Information requisition acknowledged. Directive stands from being identified as Primacron. Authority acknowledged and accepted.
Unit Two has voice module and basic processor in tact and functional. Data storage device panels are inaccessible. They cannot be found by Unit Two's basic processor. Unit Two's automatic movement panel has been disabled and is set to manual status. Unit Two is on standby mode awaiting further directives."
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Jhartix did the equivalent of blanching as Spitz began to speak.
Primacron stared quizically at the robot. The simian wrinkled his brow (causing his rather ludicrous hat to slip further down to his brows).
"So...you erased his memory...and set his motor skills on manual."
"Yes," Jhartix croaked.
"But no physical punishment?" Primacron turned to Jhatrix bemused.
"Well, no, you see..."
"Of course. You've done something far worse. You've erased his mind and made him basically impotent. These things don't feel pain anyway," the brilliant inventor continued, chuckling. "Physical damage would have been excessive. Some times I wonder at the Imperial Magistrate's sanity when he orders such harsh punishments. And I thought you Quintessons were all so rational..."
"Yes, well, there you are. I've still got a lot to do with him, as you see, Primacron," Jhatrix jibbered.
"Spare me," Primacron answered. "The Imperial Magistrate will almost certainly rescind your Work Restriction once he sees the fine job you've done on your proudest creation."
Primacron flicked his low-set eyes to Spitz.
"I'd be proud too of course, if he was my first great achievement." He smiled. "But Unicron was mine instead. Puts everything into perspective, doesn't it? Anyway, finish destroying this thing in accordance to the old codger's wishes so you can join me on my special projects."
Primacron smiled, nodded, then walked out, the doors shutting behind him.
After a moment, Jhatrix collapsed even further in his chair.
"Spitz...you saved us both...I can't believe Primacron believed you..."
Primacron stared quizically at the robot. The simian wrinkled his brow (causing his rather ludicrous hat to slip further down to his brows).
"So...you erased his memory...and set his motor skills on manual."
"Yes," Jhartix croaked.
"But no physical punishment?" Primacron turned to Jhatrix bemused.
"Well, no, you see..."
"Of course. You've done something far worse. You've erased his mind and made him basically impotent. These things don't feel pain anyway," the brilliant inventor continued, chuckling. "Physical damage would have been excessive. Some times I wonder at the Imperial Magistrate's sanity when he orders such harsh punishments. And I thought you Quintessons were all so rational..."
"Yes, well, there you are. I've still got a lot to do with him, as you see, Primacron," Jhatrix jibbered.
"Spare me," Primacron answered. "The Imperial Magistrate will almost certainly rescind your Work Restriction once he sees the fine job you've done on your proudest creation."
Primacron flicked his low-set eyes to Spitz.
"I'd be proud too of course, if he was my first great achievement." He smiled. "But Unicron was mine instead. Puts everything into perspective, doesn't it? Anyway, finish destroying this thing in accordance to the old codger's wishes so you can join me on my special projects."
Primacron smiled, nodded, then walked out, the doors shutting behind him.
After a moment, Jhatrix collapsed even further in his chair.
"Spitz...you saved us both...I can't believe Primacron believed you..."
Spitz waited quite a while after the door had closed, before he readjusted his voice and finally blinked with a relieved look. He stayed standing right where he had been however, and when he spoke, he whispered in an almost pleading trace voice that he knew would not carry far.
"The trick served me well once before... Jhartix, we're playing a dangerous game my friend. I've brought danger to you and I don't know how to fix all of it, but somehow, you're going to have to appear to have disposed of me. One of them will be back eventually."
His thoughts drifted back and he shivered as an idea emerged from a bad memory.
"All those parts and pieces of constructs you've got. Maybe you can use them as props. But you have no way to hide me..."
Spitz paused as a possibility occurred to him.
"...unless I appear differently than my robot form. Unless Primacron or Inquisitor spliced into my mind or into my transformations while I was out from the Alligatorcon's stun rod, they wouldn't know it was me. They'd probably think I was just another of your projects. And I'm guessing wildly here that you might have been taking readings- but were patching me together even then, judging from the damage repair. What do they know about me Jhartix? Do you have any ideas?"
"The trick served me well once before... Jhartix, we're playing a dangerous game my friend. I've brought danger to you and I don't know how to fix all of it, but somehow, you're going to have to appear to have disposed of me. One of them will be back eventually."
His thoughts drifted back and he shivered as an idea emerged from a bad memory.
"All those parts and pieces of constructs you've got. Maybe you can use them as props. But you have no way to hide me..."
Spitz paused as a possibility occurred to him.
"...unless I appear differently than my robot form. Unless Primacron or Inquisitor spliced into my mind or into my transformations while I was out from the Alligatorcon's stun rod, they wouldn't know it was me. They'd probably think I was just another of your projects. And I'm guessing wildly here that you might have been taking readings- but were patching me together even then, judging from the damage repair. What do they know about me Jhartix? Do you have any ideas?"