Work Text:
It was clear as soon as Trepan stepped into work that a new specimen would be arriving soon. He was usually one of the earliest to arrive in the mornings -beaten only by Ratchet who clearly had very little going on in his life outside of this- but today there was a swarm of bots already, rushing around as preparations were made. Workers were hurrying around as they readied a new enclosure, orders barked out as the pool was being fitted with a cave shelter and boulders to try and make it appear more homely to whatever beast it would end up housing. Trepan could hear Pharma arguing with someone that the cave needed to be bigger, because there was no way a creature “that size” was going to be able to comfortably live in that.
It was all rather hectic, new arrivals always were.
But that was all happening in sector B, and Trepan worked in sector C, so he simply walked on by and didn’t really pay it any mind. He had his own work to do, after all.
The sectors housed several merformers each that the assigned biologists were in charge of the care and research for, so whatever newest addition they had was not of Trepan’s concerns in the slightest. Though, given his friendship with Pharma, he was sure he would end up hearing about it regardless, as he and the jet often discussed their work. And, admittedly, he was curious to at least get a look at the new arrival, especially with Pharma’s claim that their standard shelter would not fit it. Surely it could not actually be that big, those shelters were spacious after all.
But, for now, Trepan was busy, so he went on with his work and his curiosity was quickly forgotten. Even as noises carried over from the neighbouring sector, Trepan just ignored it all.
Some hours had passed, and he was filling in notes for one of his smaller merformers, writing about how its behaviours had changed dramatically since he made some changes to its enclosure in order to give it more places to hide -which ironically made it more comfortable and thus not want to hide as much- when suddenly a loud cry sounded out from sector B. The unexpected sound was startling, to put it lightly, and Trepan tensed, and his grip faltered. Then the next thing he was aware of was the sound of his data-pad hitting the floor. He grimaced as he stared down at it and noticed a crack creeping across the screen, more spread out along the edges, but reaching insistently inwards. Barely seconds later the cry was followed up with the same voice shrieking out “He fragging bit me!”.
Trepan might have gone to investigate the situation, like all the other biologists in his sector seemed so inclined to do, but he needed a replacement data-pad, and he placed that much higher on his list of priorities.
Throughout the day Sector B continued to be much louder than usual, and, judging by the lack of an appearance of Pharma during the given refuelling break, Trepan had to assume that the assigned biologists were being kept quite busy. It seemed that this new arrival was being quite a handful, Trepan was certainly going to have to ask Pharma about it later, once he got the opportunity.
When the end of the day finally arrived Trepan did try to peep down into the pool and catch a glimpse of the new merformer as he walked by, but it appeared most of the excitement had calmed by that point, and all Trepan could see of the creature was two bright red optics staring at him from the darkness within the exceptionally large shelter. He didn’t bother stopping to get a better look, not when this creature had apparently already proven itself to be aggressive and dangerous. He simply continued on, and decided he would get a better look tomorrow.
-+-
However, he did, in fact, not get a better look tomorrow.
He arrived early as he usually did, and of course found that Ratchet was already there. The older bot was by the pool of his own newest specimen, a merformer who had been brought in a couple months prior with severe injuries. It had been considered a lost cause really, too damaged to have any chance of survival, and with injuries too severe that most thought it would not be able to live a fulfilling life even if it did survive. But Ratchet was nothing if not stubborn, and had fixed up the beast regardless. It still was incapable of swimming properly and needed to be kept in a shallow pool, but Trepan had no doubt that it was on its way into good health and a full recovery, especially with how meticulously Ratchet cared for it.
But it looked rather rattled though as Trepan walked by, its optics constantly flicking over to the direction of sector B. Trepan could hear Ratchet trying to shush it and calm it down, the grouchy old bot’s voice lower and more gentle than he’d ever heard it before.
“Does the new arrival have him spooked?” Trepan asked, deciding perhaps he could spare a moment and stop for conversation.
He half expected the merformer to react to the sound of his voice, but it hardly paid him any mind, too focused on its skittish staring.
Ratchet simply sighed, and tried stroking one of the merformer’s head fins to calm it down. He clearly had a lot of faith that the creature trusted him and wouldn’t try biting him in response.
“Something like that,” Ratchet muttered, “I thought Deadlock was just upset yesterday because of how many bots were walking around, just assumed he was not used to the crowds. But it’s quiet now, and he still hasn’t calmed down.”
Trepan hummed thoughtfully at that.
“He’s probably just a bit territorial,” he shrugged, “probably doesn’t like the thought of another merformer near his space.”
Ratchet frowned, looking unconvinced.
“Perhaps,” he murmured.
There was a moment of silence then, as each bot wasn’t really sure how to continue the conversation. They weren’t exactly friends or anything, after all. Trepan simply ended up once again looking at the uncomfortable and scared look on Deadlock’s face, and he then found himself following the direction of the stare, leaving him also peering off into the vague direction of where the new merformer was housed.
“Did you actually get a look at the new arrival?” Trepan decided to ask.
He wasn’t looking, but he is sure he heard the heavy shrug of Ratchet’s wide shoulders.
“Not yet,” Ratchet answered, “I was too busy trying to keep Deadlock calm all day,” he then scoffed, as a thought seemingly came to him, “Though, I did end up having to leave the poor guy alone for a while to do repairs. Did you hear that someone got bit?”
Trepan frowned as he remembered his broken data-pad, “Yes,” he muttered, “I heard.”
“He seems big though,” Ratchet continued, seemingly unaware of how dejected Trepan sounded, “if the size of his mouth is to be of any indication.”
“Yes, another thing I’ve heard,” Trepan rolled his optics, “Suppose I’ll get a look at him as head to my sector.”
“Don’t get too close,” Ratchet warned.
Trepan scoffed at that unnecessary warning, “Obviously,” he huffed as he began walking again, deciding this conversation had run its course.
Unfortunately, as he passed the pool that housed the new arrival, Trepan was once again met with the sight of nothing except red optics peering from the darkness of the shelter. He could see them shifting with his own movement, bright crimson clearly watching him as he walked by, but the creature still did not show itself. With the daylight he could at least catch the slight glimmer of blue glistening off parts of the frame that were not entirely hidden, but that was the only new detail that Trepan could gather. He was tempted to stop, to try and get a better look or to try and encourage the creature to come out so he could actually see it, but he’d already paused for longer than desired while talking to Ratchet, and he had work to do. So he simply continued on.
He’d see the damn thing in the following days, surely.
Or so he thought.
-+-
A week passed and he still had not seen the new specimen.
During the time Trepan was arriving to work, and by the time he was heading home, the new beast was always in its damn shelter. It watched him each time, optics peering into him with a sharpness and intensity Trepan wasn’t sure he’d seen before. But it still did not show itself.
But he heard about it plenty.
It seems its show of violence on its first day was not an outlier event, and according to Pharma this specimen had proven to be incredibly hostile to everyone that approached it. It hadn’t actually managed to hurt anyone else yet, but by the sounds of it attempts were certainly made. It tried to punch anyone who stood too close, tried again to bite whenever it was being fed, it once smashed a datapad that had been left by its pool in what appeared to be some show of spite.
All the more reason not to linger by it then.
Trepan instead continued to focus on his own specimens. Curiosity aside, the new arrival was none of his business really.
But as he walked into the mess hall that day he immediately became aware that he would once again be hearing about the large beast, if the frustrated and furious way Pharma was absently glaring at his energon cube was to be of any indication. As he approached the reasons for Pharma’s anger became all the more apparent, as Trepan noticed he could see fat droplets of water rolling down Pharma’s frame, falling in a rhythmless pattern upon the floor.
Trepan raised a humoured brow ridge at the jet as he sat a couple of seats away from him, not wanting to get flicked with any water should Pharma move around too quickly.
“Courtesy of the new arrival?” he guessed, trying and failing to hold back an amused grin.
Pharma seemingly had not heard or noticed his approach, and flinched at the sudden voice sounding out beside him. But he recovered from that shock quickly, and returned to his previous expression of displeasure in mere seconds.
“Oh, he’s the worst,” he exclaimed, sounding all too much like he’d been needing this excuse to vent, “I don’t think I’ve ever worked with such an irritating and volatile beast before.”
“That so?” Trepan prompted, knowing by experience that Pharma was far from done.
“He’s antisocial and so damn aggressive,” the jet continued, “he only ever comes out of his cave when he’s hungry or when he wants to try and maul someone. And trust me, he seems to want to maul people quite often,” he scowled, “care of him has fallen strictly to me simply because the other researchers are too scared to get anywhere near him.”
Trepan took a sip from his energon then, as he resisted the urge to roll his optics.
“But you’re not a coward like them,” he supplied.
Pharma scoffed, “Of course not, we have safety measures in play. No matter how eager that fragger is to try and hurt someone he isn’t actually going to be able to,” he paused, “Not a second time, at least.”
Trepan wasn’t sure if he felt that confidence was misguided or not, given how much of a hassle this merformer had already proven to be.
“So, he splashed you instead?” he asked, once again looking at the obvious droplets falling from Pharma’s frame.
The jet frowned.
“Yeah, now he is just getting petty,” he huffed, “and I’d just done a new layer of polish last night,” he added dejectedly.
“A very targeted attack then,” Trepan joked.
Pharma didn’t seem appreciative of the attempt at humour, if his glare was anything to go on.
Regardless, he continued on with his rambling, and Trepan half listened as he drank down more from his cube. The jet had a tendency to monologue when he was feeling particularly enthused or annoyed by something, but Trepan didn’t particularly mind. Pharma could at least be fun, unlike a lot of their fellow researchers, even if he did tend to ramble on.
“I swear, it’s like he’s being annoying on purpose,” the jet eventually hissed out, “He seems to find it funny.”
Trepan hummed in acknowledgement, amused by the concept of a creature trying to disembowel someone simply as a joke.
“Has your team settled on a designation for him yet?” he decided to ask, because even after all his ranting he had not heard Pharma mention a name of any sort.
The jet rolled his optics at that.
“Sure have,” he scoffed, “We’ve assigned him ‘Overlord’, since he clearly thinks himself above everyone.”
“Well, you’re certainly going to give him an ego with a name like that,” Trepan snickered.
Pharma rolled his optics, but it seemed that venting had helped him calm down enough that he did not actually take offence to the joke this time, and Trepan could see a smile pulling at the edges of the jet’s mouth.
“What would you suggest instead then?” Pharma asked lightly.
Trepan made a show of pretending to think for a second, humming thoughtfully as he brought a hand up to stroke at his chin plating.
“Maybe something simple, something ironic,” he answered, a sly grin finding its way into his face, “Like ‘Tiny’.”
Pharma laughed at that.
“Oh, that would get you mauled for sure,” he smirked.
“Perhaps,” Trepan chuckled, but he would certainly take that risk.
It’s not like those beasts could understand them anyway.
-+-
With their refuelling done both bots separated as they headed towards their own assigned sectors, with Trepan feeling perhaps a little smug that he lucked out in not having that volatile merformer placed into any of his pools. It sounded like far more of a hassle than it was worth.
However, that smugness was quick to fade as he finally neared one of his final enclosures, and a piercing and high shriek reminded him that he was not so lucky in other regards.
Trepan, admittedly, had his own helm-ache of a merformer to deal with, and that was in a much more literal way than he liked.
This one’s given designation was Tarn, after the body of water he was discovered in -and no, Trepan was not the one who suggested or voted for such a boring naming decision- and, while his troublesome beast was perhaps not as outwardly dangerous and aggressive as Pharma’s, it made up for that with how damn loud it was. Even with the mask on his face that helped to keep the noises muffled and quietened, still its screeches reached a pitch far too splitting for Trepan’s audials to be comfortable with.
The small bot sighed irately, tiredly, as he saw one of his co-workers backing away nervously from the screaming creature.
“What did you do?” he asked the bot; certain they must have done something to tick the merformer off.
“Nothing!” the other biologist was quick to respond, “I was just standing here and taking notes.”
Trepan huffed at that, and he looked at the rather short distance between the bot and the safety line on the floor.
“You were standing too close,” Trepan answered as though it were obvious.
“I was behind the safety line,” the bot argued back.
“Yeah, close but not close enough,” Trepan rolled his optics, “You were getting his hopes up for nothing, no wonder he got upset.”
The other bot scoffed frustratedly at that.
“Why do we even keep dangerous ones like this?” he muttered, perhaps trying to deflect from his own embarrassment.
Trepan waved him away.
“Just… let me handle this,” he hissed, “You’re useless.”
He received a scowl for that, but the other bot left regardless, obviously off to deal with some more demure and friendly merformer. Trepan vented as he was left alone with this beast, realising that perhaps he had far more in common with Pharma than previously thought. Turns out both of them were the only ones in their sectors who were willing to deal with the more volatile specimens.
It was ridiculous, really, and again one of the reasons Trepan had found himself gravitating to the jet before any others.
But he did not think on that for long, not when he had work awaiting him. He placed his data-pads onto a table nearby, keeping only the one with the notes for this specific merformer on his person, before moving closer to the pool for observation. He stayed a decent amount back from the safety line, so not to make the same mistake as his fellow researcher, and then he began to take notes.
He first wrote down the time, and of the conditions of the water, such as what temperature it was sitting at and what the pH levels were. It was important to keep the water in the preferred conditions for each individual merformer, and noting any changes would help should any of the beasts suddenly fall ill or start to exhibit strange and usual behaviours, anything outside their regular characteristics.
Only then did he start to focus on the creature itself.
It had finally stopped shrieking out, but still looked rather agitated, especially as it watched him standing nearby.
Close, but not close enough.
Trepan rolled his optics, he wondered if this one and Pharma’s current burden would get along, since they both seemed insistent on being annoying. Probably not though, given their hostility and larger sizes it was likely they’d just end up in a territorial spat.
But wouldn’t that be a sight to see.
He pushed away the thought, as researchers they weren’t here to encourage that kind of carnage, regardless of how interesting a spectacle it would make.
He focused instead on his work, but, as Trepan stood there and filled out his notes, he was reminded that Tarn mask was for more than just dealing with him being loud. No, when the creature was quiet that is when he seemed his most dangerous.
They didn’t quite understand it yet, much to the frustration of Trepan and his fellow researchers, but there was something odd to Tarn’s voice. Something they could not explain. The merformer would bring his voice down to no louder than a whisper, would make a near silent purr that could only be heard to those who were close, and there was something about that frequency that seemed to dig deep into the processors of anyone who heard it. Trepan had briefly heard it once, but not long enough for it to be able to claw its way too deep into his mind. It was almost indescribable, somehow sounding out as multiple soft voices talking over each other, in an overlap that caused none of it to be decipherable. Empty whispers that crept in, like a hushed conversation heard from the gap of a door.
How one creature was able to produce a sound like that… It just did not make sense.
But stranger yet was the way that voice gripped at those who heard it. Trepan once witnessed a biologist walk closer to the pool, almost like they were in some sort of trance, and he watched, stunned and awed, while a fellow co-worker ripped them out of Tarn’s reach as the merformer made an attempt to grab them.
That blank look in the biologist’s optics was one of the most bizarre things Trepan had ever seen.
After that incident the higher-ups refused to entertain the notion of another close call. So, they fitted Tarn with a mask, one that drowned out that quiet voice, and in response the damn beast took to yelling and shrieking instead, obviously angered with the situation. He pulled and clawed at the mask, leaving heavy scratches indented on the surface, but, so far, he had been unsuccessful in actually removing it.
So, while the beast was certainly safer now, he was certainly more annoying to deal with.
And it was obvious that Tarn was trying to use his voice on him right now though, given the way he was leaning close so “innocently”, his head tilted ever so slightly, his clawed hand risen as though trying to urge the smaller bot to get closer and accept it. The mask blocked out the whisper, but Trepan knew all too well what Tarn was attempting to do.
Trepan rolled his optics. Which apparently was a clear hint to Tarn that he was entirely unaffected by his voice, and the merformer trilled out angrily in response before throwing himself back into depths of his pool, water splashing up as his long tail slapped against the surface on his way down.
Trepan hissed and put a hand over one of his audials, stepping back to avoid the reach of the dropping water -he wasn’t going to let himself suffer the same fate as Pharma after he had laughed at him- and he watched as Tarn glared angrily from the bottom of his enclosure, making another loud screech at him that was hardly subdued in the embrace of the water.
Trepan huffed.
Yes, this one certainly was a helm-ache to deal with.
Tarn certainly used to be more docile, or at least purposefully presented as such, before they secured that mask onto him, and it was a shame that their research was likely being skewed by his reactive behaviour. But, of course, their bosses were not about to risk the safety of their biologists by removing it now.
Cowards, really. Whatever ability this was should really be getting studied.
He’d given up on arguing that point, however, especially as care for this particular beast had started to fall more onto him. He was fine with risking the safety of others if it meant they could further his research, but he wasn’t exactly eager on the idea of getting himself hurt in the process.
-+-
The next time Trepan came into the break room he was once again met with the sight of Pharma sitting there looking frustrated, even more so than he had the previous day. As he drew closer though, the source of some of that anger became very clear, as Trepan noticed that the tip of one of Pharma’s wings was bent.
“Not as safe as you previously assumed?” he asked as he sat down, eyeing the extent of the damage.
Pharma bristled up immediately, and the glare he shot the smaller bot was severe.
“He’s trying to make me look like a fool,” he spat.
Seemed he was succeeding too, but Trepan decided to keep that to himself.
“How did he get you?” he asked instead, “were you standing too close?”
“No, I’m not daft,” Pharma was quick to scoff, “he threw one of the enclosure rocks at me,” he then looked forlornly at his broken wing, “I almost managed to avoid it,” he muttered.
Trepan raised a brow ridge at that.
“You mean one of the boulders?” He asked, “Aren’t those bolted down?”
Pharma rolled his optics bitterly, “Yes, yes they are. But you’ve seen him, he’s huge and he has the strength to match.”
Trepan huffed humouredly, “I haven’t actually seen him yet, but I heard he’s the largest merformer we’ve housed.”
Pharma’s optics went wide, “You haven’t seen him?” he asked, sounding incredulous, “How? You walk through my sector to get to yours each morning.”
Trepan simply shrugged at that.
“He’s always hiding in his shelter when I walk by,” he answered boredly, “I can tell he is blue, and that he has red optics, but that is about it. I haven’t gotten a good look at how big he is.”
Pharma’s shocked expression did not change, his stare lingering as gears in his processor were surely turning, trying to make sense of how Trepan had managed to miss the merformer every time he passed.
“That’s-” he started, his intake moving before his thoughts had caught up, “That’s ridiculous, he tries to attack everyone who passes by. You really haven’t caught even a glimpse of him?”
Trepan answered simply with a “nope”, beginning to feel disinterested with the conversation if Pharma wasn’t going to take him at his word. But the jet didn’t drop it there, and there was a curious glint in his optics that Trepan -as a fellow researcher- understood all too well.
“Then why don’t we try see him?” Pharma suggested, “You must be intrigued on what the new specimen looks like.”
Trepan frowned, very unsubtly suspicious.
“Do you want me to get attacked?” he hissed.
Pharma waved away the notion, “I just want to see how he’ll react if you linger a little,” he admitted, “Surely you’re interested too?”
Trepan vented, a defeated and annoyed sound, because while he certainly didn’t care for Pharma’s intentions, he couldn’t deny his own want for knowledge.
After all, as the jet said, he was insanely curious on the damn thing's appearance.
And so, despite his better judgement, he followed in behind Pharma, allowing the jet to lead him back towards sector B. From a distance the pool looked just as empty as it usually did whenever Trepan came by, and only in drawing nearer did he get the angle necessary to peer down and see those red optics staring at him from the darkness of the shelter.
Trepan scoffed, was he ever going to see this stupid fish?
Pharma urged him closer to the safety line, and then he stepped back himself, closer to the nearby desks and far from the range of danger. Trepan grimaced as he listened to the jet’s pedesteps drawing away, feeling like some sacrificial prop being offered up in an unspoken bargain. He didn’t know what Pharma expected to happen, but he didn’t particularly trust the safety line to provide what it promised, not when he had already seen Pharma’s bent wing earlier.
He stood there for a good while, gazing at the scarlet optics that were peering back at him, not seeing any movement within the shadows that obscured the creature. He vented out as he crossed his arms over his chest plating.
How boring.
“He’s not doing anything,” he complained as he looked over his shoulder and back at Pharma, fixing the jet with a weathered and tired stare.
Any words Pharma was about to respond with died, however, as his optics opened wide again, and Trepan froze as he heard a sudden and unsubdued movement of water behind him. He vented shakily, his own optics wide and weary, as he slowly began to tilt his helm around again, too cautious to sharply twist around in fear of the quick movement angering the creature.
Carefully, he brought himself to be looking forwards again, and he found himself practically face to face with the creature, those red optics staring so intensely into him, bright and curious.
The glass that surrounded the pool stood almost taller than Trepan did, and the water levels were raised to match it, allowing their specimens to come up for easy observation. And, currently, this particular specimen had its servos pressed against the glass, its helm lingering close between them, held near the clear surface as it watched Trepan with great interest. That left it hovering almost perfectly at Trepan’s height, even as the rest of its massive body trailed down the length of the pool, its sheer size meaning that its tail fins nearly reached the bottom surface.
The others hadn’t been kidding when they said this thing was huge.
Seconds passed in silence, their gazes locked as yellow stared into red, and vice versa, broken only briefly whenever Trepan blinked with his surprise. He kept expecting the merformer to move, to suddenly rise higher than the glass and reach for him, to lash out quickly and hurt him as it had been doing to the others.
But no, it seemed content with simply watching, and something about that fact was far more unnerving.
The silence, their stalemate, was only broken as Trepan heard his friend speak up again from behind him.
“Wow, he isn’t trying to maul you,” Pharma muttered with an obvious surprise to his tone, “That’s a first.”
Trepan made a sound of acknowledgement, and then he decided he didn’t want to push his luck any further, happy for any excuse to finally leave that lingering gaze. He stepped away from the safety line, ignoring the displeased look the creature gave him as he did so, and he made his way back to where Pharma awaited him.
The jet seemed like he was lost in thought, humming some rhythymless tune as he stared over to where Trepan had just walked away from.
“Here’s an idea,” he started slowly, “why don’t you take over the research for him?” he suggested, not even trying to hide his hopefulness, “It doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you, you’d have a much easier time dealing with him than me.”
Trepan frowned, “This isn’t my sector,” he refused bluntly, “he’s not my problem.”
Pharma gave that concern a dismissive wave.
“Our sectors are right next to each other,” he argued, “It would hardly be a detour for you.”
“Perhaps,” Trepan huffed, “But it is still extra work, and I have enough on my plate right now.”
Pharma rolled his optics.
“We could trade then?” he offered, “I’ll care for a merformer from your sector if you agree to care for this afthole here.”
Trepan opened his mouth to refuse again, because swapping sounded like far more of a hassle than it would be worth, and frankly he could not be bothered. But a thought occurred to him then, so he remained silent as he picked up the data-pads off the table, swapping them around until one that read a particular name was the one positioned at the top. He gave it another few seconds of deliberation, before deciding that perhaps being rid of a helm-ache of his own was not a bad idea.
“A trade,” Trepan repeated, looking over at the jet again, “and I can choose any specimen of my sector?” he inquired innocently.
He could see Pharma face light up at that, clearly the jet thought himself the fortunate one in this transaction.
“Yes, yes, whoever you want,” Pharma was quick to answer.
Trepan scoffed humouredly, and then he picked up the top data-pad from his pile and shoved it up to Pharma’s face.
“Then this is your problem now,” he said, watching as Pharma accepted the data-pad and brought it down to an easier to read level.
“Tarn” Pharma read the label aloud. He paused as he thought for a moment, “Wait, was he the loud one?” he asked, frowning.
Trepan shrugged, and then he swiped the data-pad for Overlord off the table and added it to his pile, “I don’t know, he’s not my problem anymore.”
For a moment Pharma looked frustrated, but then he sighed resignedly as he glimpsed through the information on the screen of the pad.
“Well, I’m sure he can’t be worse than this fragger here,” he said, glancing back at Overlord.
At the mention of the merformer Trepan found his attention drawn back in its direction, and he was perhaps a little surprised to see what Overlord had not really moved from where he had seen him before, simply just watching them through the glass. What was different, however, and what really surprised him, was that the mer-shark was now grinning at him, giving Trepan a very good look at those teeth that had been used to bite one of his colleagues just a week ago.
Trepan stared back silently, before feeling a shudder surge down his frame at just how eerily knowing that grin looked. It was smug in a way that Trepan could not entirely comprehend, boastful in a way that surely was impossible for a savage beast like this. He looked away, and tried to ignore that obvious feeling of optics still staring at him.
He wasn’t going to let a mere creature unsettle him like this.
“No, probably not,” Trepan muttered, finally responding to Pharma’s comment.
After all, what was the worst that could happen?