Optimus Prime: Deceased.

Bumblebee: Deceased.

Ironhide: Deceased.

Ratchet: Deceased.

Megatron: Deceased.

Remaining Autobots: Missing; presumed deceased.

Sam: Deceased.

Carly: Deceased.

Victory: Secure.

Sentinel Prime stood tall, looking over the ruins of Cybertron. His electric blue eyes flashed.

"We will rebuild."

"Identification: 82724. Duties: Atmospheric restoration."

A flash of laser lights read the eye presented. It was followed by a faint beep, and a cool, computerized voice said, "Identification noted. Proceed."

Spark flipped the visor to her helmet down; there was a hissing noise as it sealed itself shut. She stuck her hand into the reader on the wall, covered in a glove, and waited as her assignment was written on it. She began to hum, 'It's a Small World' as the airlock compressed. The door opened and slowly, carefully, she clipped her tether to the Line before pulling herself along it.

It was a rather impressive setup. Below her, the groundwork-buildings, environment and the like- was being destroyed and rebuilt, piece by piece. She peered down; not that you could see any of it. The most you could see of the groundwork crew from up here was their handiwork; a tall tower that scraped the skies, or the billowing cloud of rubble as an old monument was turned to dust.

Above, there was only the Line. There had only ever been the Line.

Though, she supposed, it wasn't a 'line', per say. It was a criss-cross of thin metal rods, a lacework of webbed patterns, composed of a metal far stronger then any on Earth had been. Those on Atmospheric Restoration were connected to it, keeping them from being sucked into the ice-cold darkness of space. Spark continued with her cheerless whistling, one of the only noises in the area. There was complete radio silence, and the world outside certainly wasn't offering any sound.

For a moment, everyone listened to her mindless tune, grateful for the minor reprieve from the heart-wrenching silences. Spark made her way down the Line and towards her assigned station. She flipped up the dark-tinted visor to give her a clearer look at it, gripping the bar she was tethered to in an attempt to keep her balance a little better in the zero-gravity.

She found herself looking at one of the oxygen generators; she frowned. Force fields- the only thing currently keeping the thin atmosphere clinging to the planet, and keeping all of their hard work from going to waste- were usually her forte. She was less familiar with the workings of the gas generators; but then, machinery was machinery. If it ran on wires and electricity, then Spark could understand it. She mimed cracking her knuckles- a nearly impossible task in her thick gloves- and got to work.

"Spark, you lazy little lowlife, get your ass down here!" The voice stopped her before her fingers could even touch the wires.

Spark grinned, pulling her hands away. Her index finger went reflexively to the ear of her helmet, despite the fact that she no longer needed to push a button to respond to those already on her frequency. "Nice to hear your voice again, Colonel. Having trouble?"

"We couldn't be in worse trouble if the Line had snapped," The Colonel answered darkly. "Now get down here!"

"Rather hostile, aren't we?" Spark said, still smiling to herself as she pulled herself downwards expertly. She was almost ashamed to admit that she was more comfortable in zero-g than normal gravity these days. "What seems to be the problem?"

"The problem? I'll tell you the problem, Spark. Your generator stopped working!"

"I see."

"You see? By Cybertron, she sees! Get down here and fix it, before the Decepticons see it and we all catch hell for your failure!"

"Now, now, no need to be so rude," Spark admonished. She drifted to his side, unclipping her tether from the section of the Line it was on, and closer to him. She looked to him.

Over the years, she'd all but memorized his face: he had dark skin, with deep scars running down his cheek (and arms, though she couldn't see it now) from when one of the Decepticons had gotten angry. One of his brown eyes was completely blind, but the other sparkled with intelligence and dark humor. He had short-cropped black hair, sprinkled with grey, and a twisted nose that had been broken on more than one occasion.

Ah, the Colonel. Like most humans-like Spark herself- his nickname had been used so often that his real name had been all but forgotten; perhaps even by the Colonel himself.

"You see this?" He demanded of Spark, gesturing wildly to a small box. Circuits and buttons stuck out haphazardly, most of them fried. "This is the quality of your work, you ignorant little…"

Spark cut him off. "Actually, I'm not surprised."

He stared for a moment, then began to shout, "Not surprised! Huston, the lady is not surprised! This is why we'll never get back to Earth, ladies and gentlemen, this girl right here! Let's give her a hand!" he began to clap noisily through his gloved hands.

"This is the box that Starscream hit the other day." Spark went on as though he'd never spoken. He stopped.

"Ah."

"Yes." She said, smiling at him. "Ah."

There was a moment of silence, and then the two started laughing.

He clapped her on the back, looking fondly at her. "Get it fixed, you little idiot."

"Will do." She replied primly, grinning. Despite the Colonel's foul mouth and even fouler temper, the two had been close friends since they'd arrived on Cybertron together. And, in all honesty, there was no one she trusted more.

She began her whistling again, a tuneless little number that was played throughout the radio system. She got to work immediately, fixing up the wires, fiddling with the buttons, and swearing loudly when things didn't work out. Another force field generator would be working to compensate for this one, but it was only a limited thing; she had to get this working quickly.

There were large pockets of breathable air around Cybertron, but there were other, larger areas where there was only space. This wasn't as much of a problem for the Decepticons, but it was an entirely different matter for their human slaves. One of Spark's jobs was making sure that there was some kind of an atmosphere, based on the one that Cybertron previously had. It was breathable, if a little thick, to humans, and perfectly home for the Decepticons.

She attached a wire into its proper socket, and smiled to herself as a green light glowed inside it. She slammed the box closed, pushing herself away from it, and started climbing upwards, back to her original job. This had set her back a bit, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

As she wrapped her hands around the metal bars, she felt them starting to vibrate against her palm. She frowned, mumbling into the radio, "Overlord alert." There was a number of faint, discontent mutterings, and the area around her became thick with tension. Everyone quickly turned their focus solely on their work; Spark made it up to her station and did the same.

A large, thick, black shape made its way towards them. It navigated along the platforms that had been set out; platforms too widely spaced for a human to use without the aid of the Line. Spark fought a groan and forced her way to keep whistling, a bright, happy tune. It sounded like a funeral dirge as she plowed through it.

The Decepticon was tall, tall enough to reach to the higher parts of the Line from the platform below. It had a thick, sinuous body, like some kind of mechanical snake, but it stood on two powerful, broad legs. One arm slithered into a collection of solid, whip-like weapons, and the other into a clawed hand. Spark could hear the audible sighs from the people above and below her as people stole secret glimpses of the Decepticon. What they all were wondering and none were saying: Who was his next victim?

Spark continued to whistle as he connected to their radio signals, though everyone else fell completely silent. Her cheerless notes played out into the dead silence. The Decepticon's glowing red eyes locked on her, narrowing with a sharp mechanical whirring.

"Human." It pointed her out with its clawed hand. The whips on its other 'arm' clinked together gently, threateningly. "Identify."

Spark swore inwardly, knowing that it was pointing at her back but refusing to turn. She kept whistling.

"Human!" It barked. Spark, pretending to be surprised, turned to face him.

"Oh!" She bubbled. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" She giggled lightly. "Honestly, with these new headsets, one never knows anymore!"

The Decepticon glared in a very robot-like way. "Identify." It demanded again.

"82724." She answered gushingly. She watched as the red eyes flashed, reading her own eye and checking her records. There was a pause.

"This seems to be one of many times that you were reported." It said darkly, looking her in the eye. Spark smiled mindlessly back. Its metal lips pulled back over sharp, glistening teeth.

"Well, I have no idea why!" She said in a chirpy voice. "I only told those sons-of-bitches Decepticons to get off their fat asses and actually do something for once, instead of acting like bratty little five-year-olds with too much power in their hands." She shrugged, a bright smile on her face. "Is there a problem with that?"

The Decepticon stared at her in amazement. The Colonel- about seven feet down and to her right- shook his head wearily. There was a cold silence from the rest of the room.

In a movement quicker than anticipated, one of the whips wrapped around her throat. A sharp point on its end hovered just above her visor, ready to crack into it and expose her to the atmosphere-absent planet. Spark looked up at him, her amber eyes shining.

"Insolent human!" It shrieked. More of the whips snaked around her, gripping her arms and legs, wrapping around her securely. In seconds, she was completely and utterly trapped. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just…"

He never finished his sentence. Behind him, another Decepticon placed a hand on his shoulder. Spark's eyes darted to him; it was Starscream. Of course.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he hissed, a snake speaking to one of its own. Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke; the human captive tried not to retch.

"Yeah," Spark added to the first Decepticon, trying not to struggle from the iron grip. "Sentinel would be ever so pissed."

The other Decepticon blinked at Starscream, as though not quite comprehending. "I see no harm in…"

"Believe me." Starscream cut him off again. "Sentinel has given strict orders for her not to be killed." He seemed so different when he wasn't groveling in front of his leader. Spark sent a toothy grin in his direction, knowing that, if Sentinel showed up right now, the little worm would go straight back to his old self.

"Yeah, metal-breath." Spark couldn't resist tacking on. "I'm untouchable."

Starscream shot her an I-loathe-you-more-than-words-can-ever-say look, then said, a little too smugly, "She can, however, be taught a lesson. Proceed." He paused, then added, "Inside normal atmosphere."

Crap, thought Spark, as the Decepticon grinned viciously, carrying her towards the airlock. She tried, unsuccessfully, not to babble as she was taken away.

"Oh, right, here we go. Take her inside the normal atmosphere, wouldn't want to rip one of these suits. That would be bad, bad bad bad… Ooh, that's a lot of bads… I warn you, though, Sentinel won't be happy with you… though I don't suppose you care about that, I mean, what Sentinel doesn't know won't hurt him, right? Well, I've got quite the little tattle-tale mouth, don't I?"

They were inside the airlock now. Spark could feel the air rushing in as they exited, going inside the hollow metal cube beyond. It was large enough for a group of Decepticons, and therefore much bigger to humans. Spark was struggling now, unable to help herself. And then…

Crap again!

"Um, guys…" she felt the blood drain from her face as her struggling ceased. "You may want to let go now…"

The darkness was pressing in on the edges of her eyes, smothering her. Something burned in the back of her throat; words. Words that were not her own, yet demanded to be said, because if they didn't, they would burn a hole in her throat, and the pressure in her head would never cease…

"Identification: 44312. Status: Deceased."

Starscream shot her a look, as did the other Decepticon.

"Mission 82244. Status: failed. Members lost: 4242, 8219, 44853, 992, 70920. Total unit loss: 802. Commander Notes: none. Official report: Engine failure. Actual cause: Unknown. Mission Terminated."

Spark tried to strain against the words, but they kept flowing, unbidden and unwanted.

"What are you blabbering on about?" Starscream demanded of her. Spark struggled to speak, but her words were drowned out by the others that forced their way through her lips.

"Mission 553829. Status: Failed. Members lost: 2222, 8934, 406. Total unit loss: 3. Commander Notes: catastrophic, should never have been attempted. Official report: Human rebellion. Actual cause: Unknown. Mission Terminated."

The list went on. The two Decepticons started to back away slightly, and the coils around Spark's body were beginning to relax.

"Mission 992217. Status: Failed. Members lost: 121. Total unit loss: 1. Commander Notes: They're here. Official report: None. Actual Cause: Returning Autobots. Mission to be reinstated."

"What's going on?" A loud voice cut through the air like a scythe. It was full of authority, large and commanding. Sentinel Prime stalked in through the doorway, blue eyes on fire. Spark couldn't respond, could only keep repeating the words in her head. The other two Decepticons exchanged a glance with each other; they couldn't exactly answer that question, either.

Sentinel took in the situation at a single glance, while Spark continued to mutter and mumble, listing numbers, missions, status, everything, a new mission each time. Sentinel looked to the Decepticon's coils, wrapped around Spark's all-too-human frame.

He didn't ask any questions; he simply fired on the Decepticon. It began to crumble and rust away before his eyes, and Spark dropped to the ground expertly. The flow of information coming from her lips didn't even stutter as she landed on one knee, the other propped up as she curled her arms around her head.

Sentinel gripped Starscream's head in his hand, pushing him against the wall, fingers digging into the metal of his second-in-command's skull. Starscream was immediately cowering, protesting in his serpentine voice, pleading, imploring.

"Sir, I never meant to…"

"Save your words, Starscream!" Sentinel snarled. The words were like razors, sharp and metallic. "I value that human's life more than I will ever value yours, do you understand me?" He pressed Starscream's head even further into the wall, bringing his face directly next to the other Decepticon's. "If I ever catch you near her again…"

"It will never happen…" Starscream hissed quietly, quailing, making promises. Sentinel pushed away from him, turning to Spark slowly. She was shaking now, the words breaking as she slowly managed to bring them under control, as her resistance started to succeed.

"Mission 889319… Status: Failed. Members… lost: 421, 1129, 4142, 4890… 3360. Total unit loss: 320… Commander Notes: None… Official… report: Construction… accident. Actual Cause: Unknown. Mission…Terminated."

Sentinel gently scooped her up into his hand, bringing her up to eye level. She looked into his eyes, amber against blue, and spat out the last words. Trembling, she collapsed onto the metal.

"Anything else?" He prodded gently. Almost kindly.

"Yeah…" She breathed, each word a strain. "Screw… you."

He raised an eyebrow and set her down on the ground once more. "If that is all, then. Back to your station, 82724." He ordered, his voice full of command.

Spark tried to stand, but her knees had turned to jelly. She collapsed to the ground, panting, her blonde hair trailing in front of her face, keeping her from seeing Sentinel and keeping him from seeing her. She took a few deep breaths, trying to stabilize herself.

She pulled herself up, still shaking, then lifted her head up to Sentinel. Her hair fell back, revealing her features entirely once again as she gave him her biggest, wickedest smile. Her teeth were entirely silver, a brilliant metal. Behind the amber of her eyes, a soft blue light was glowing. Her skin started to reflect the light a little differently, almost as though she were made of metal…

"A message for Sentinel Prime." She said, her words clipped, more metallic than any human's ever could be. "Run and hide. We're coming back."

A/N: Yes, I basically killed off everyone. Sorry, but I figured that the Decepticons wouldn't let the Autobots on Earth live; or any humans that had helped them. Oh, well. Please review!