Rian: Loooved writing this chapter a ton. Very fun. Starting to get into the more interesting tidbits here ^^

Misgel: Yep, this chapter was fun! We somehow managed to write a character creepier than Megatron...

Jack groaned and turned on his borrowed berth as the aching in his chest never subsided. If anything, it only seemed to worsen ever since Megatron had left. Every time he moved, a stab of pain would from the sealed wound on his side. His body protested each movement. His processor was a fog, a dull throb radiating through his internal circuity. His chest hurt, his joints hurt, his head hurt. Everything hurt.

The mech could barely make sense of anything, going in and out of consciousness in a hellish partial existence. He couldn't sleep the pain away, and every time he tried he was woken shortly after by a throb in his chest.

A couple times he wasn't aware he was reaching through the bond, trying to find an anchor to keep him in place. But Megatron was distant and his thoughts were quiet. The warlord was ignoring him? Why would he just leave? Sometimes he could feel something tugging on the bond, but it didn't feel like Megatron at all. It was hard to think. Everything was so fuzzy. He ignored it as best he could, optics slipping shut again.

It was then he thought heard a metallic sound. Then another and another and another. Accompanied by sharp, intakes of air, but they were replaced by a dull thud before Jack could translate the odd sound. There was a briefly clicking noise, but he couldn't understand what that was, either. But he did recognize the hum of the door sliding open. Megatron? No, he didn't hear the heavy, slow thuds of the dictator. Jack onlined his optics, glancing at the entrance to Megatron's chambers. It was closed.

The poor mech was hearing things. He supposed it wasn't a surprise. There were always odd sounds from the Nemesis, either from the hum of the great engines, energon coursing through fuel lines, or the drones sauntering through the halls.

Jack's chest rose slowly as he vented, more exasperated than ever. He didn't like this. He wished Knock Out had given him stronger sedatives to put him into recharge. Another ache in his chest, this one sending fresh pain through his body. The former human winced, gritting his denta and willing for it to go away.

He rolled onto his back, which only summoned a stab of agony from his damaged protoform. He moaned, realizing he had only worsened his misery. He looked up at the ceiling, which, as of now, was his only company.

Then it moved.

Jack blinked.

What— No, his optics were planning tricks on him. It was the sedatives...

He blinked again.

Purple, compound optics blinked back at him.

"Nn... W... What...?" Jack slurred, confused at what he was seeing.

It looked like a portion of the ceiling was jutting out, form a smooth black mass above him. Eight pieces of thin, long metal extended outward, almost like legs. Just a like—

Jack's blood turned to ice.

A spider.

It was then a voice, deceptive smooth and soft and seductive, purred against his audio.

"Well, this is unexpected. You're certainly not Megatron."

Jack didn't reply. He couldn't. No. No, no, no.

She wasn't here. She couldn't be here. Arcee said she was gone. The monster that tortured and tormented the femme, that tormented him. Images flashed across his optics.

Of him as a human, running through the dark forest, his muscles and lungs screaming. As she hunted him, played with him, like a cat toying with a mouse. Pinned him down, ready to take his head from his shoulders. Then she took his mother. Laughing as the woman dangled dozens of feet in the air. Laughing as she almost killed him. All to have her revenge against Arcee, the only one to escape her web.

Airachnid.

It was then something pierced the fog lingering in his mind. Something deep, beyond the walls of coding. Something organic and primal, awakened by the presence of a predator. Giving a single command: run.

Jack's body obeyed, forcing stiff joints to move, to escape. He hadn't even moved an inch when suddenly something wrapped around his wrists—wet and sticky and confining. The mech gasped, feebly trying to pull at the webbing cocooned around him, but it was too strong when he was so weak.

There was a cruel chuckle, as if Airachnid was amused by his struggles. His whole body trembled, a sharp intake venting through his body as he struggled to raise his voice. But his vocalizer refused to work, either from the drugs or the pain or the fear. Only a harsh burst of static escaped. The Insecticon above him didn't seem to notice, tilting her head, as she stared down at him curiously.

"And who you might be, little one?" Lips pulled back in a smile, showing dangerous, sharp fangs. "I wasn't aware Megatron allowed such a young mech in his berth."

Jack's trembling only increased. She didn't know. She didn't know who he was. She couldn't, she couldn't know.

Suddenly the mass moved, legs clicking as Airachnid unlatched from the wall. Jack's vent caught in his throat and his spark stopped pulsing as she settled over him, like a spider over its prey. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move. He couldn't resist as suddenly those deadly claws touched his cheek, cupping it in a mock caress. Airachnid tilted his head so she had a full view of his faceplates, and he could only look into those horrible compound optics.

"Hmm... have we met before, little one?"

She didn't know, she didn't know. Jack released a gasp of static and his plating rattled. The terror bled into his raging EM field.

"Why are you so afraid?" Airachnid hummed, in false concern. "I will not hurt you, my sweet."

It was a lie. Jack knew it was a lie. She would kill him. Take his head like some sick trophy, like she did to all those she had hunted...

No, this had to be a dream. This all had to be a bad dream. Airachnid wasn't alive, she wasn't here. It was the sedatives... they were messing with his processor. It was mixing with the dark energon. But the Insection kept speaking, in that sultry purr he loathed.

"My, my," she laughed at him, digit dragging down to his chin, tilting his head up, forcing Jack to look directly into her optics. "Though, I am quite curious, how such someone so young captured Megatron's attention..."

It was then the claw on his chin slid down, the tip scraping sensitive wires, so sharp and so dangerous, she merely had to press down the slightest degree to draw energon. But it didn't, even as the claw traveled along his neck, then his clavicle, and dipping into a gap of plating underneath the broad armor protecting his chest. Jack shuddered at the path, the touch feeling odd and explosive against his numbed neural net.

Then something caught Airachnid's attention, and the single claw traveled again. The mech vented as suddenly more joined the first, curling around the patch of metal on his side. There was a sensation, so subtle but it had Jack widening in optics in horror. Airachnid smiled.

"N—"

His protest was cut off by a sharp gasp as the patch was ripped off, the patchwork colliding loudly against the floor. Unable to move, he could only watch as Airachnid watched with great intrigue as the energon leaked from his reopened wound.

"Sh, sh, sh," Airachnid chided. "That did not hurt."

It did. Primus, why did everything hurt?

"Surely this is not as painful as whoever inflicted this upon you. Our lord has always been so abusive to his subordinates..."

But Megatron did not do this to him. The Decepticon would never hurt him!

"It's rather ironic, considering he does not understand the true art of pain."

The last words were spoken in a hiss, one that Jack recognized. The same one Airachnid used when she threatened his family and Arcee's life. The one that promised agony and suffering—

Claws dipped inward, sinking into vulnerable protoform.

Jack could not stop the screech that escaped his lips as agony flared from his side. It coursed through his entire body in a wave of pain, from his pedes to his helm. It subsided, just enough for rational thought to return. He realized his mistake too late.

Airachnid was a sadist. She had interrogated and tortured hundreds of prisoners of war. She did not need a word or a voice or a laugh to recognize someone. The huntress merely had to hear the sound of their screams.

Jack forced himself to look back into those terrible optics, only to find them wide and bright in confusion, helm reeling back.

"Jack?"

He was trembling madly now under her predatory gaze, his own optics wide with terror. Suddenly another set of claws wrapped around his chin. His captor tilted his head this way and that, as if Airachnid was trying to scrutinize every detail of his face.

"Impossible," she gasped. "A fleshling couldn't possibly—"

The huntress paused, thinking. Trying to find a logical explanation, or further proof. Then the claw still embedded deep in his protoform twisted. Another screech, just as loud and familiar as before. It turned into a desperate wail, begging for mercy and the nightmare to end. Jack flailed, trying to free himself, trying to get the claw out, glancing down at the assaulting servo. He watched as the sharp tip finally retract from his body, a trail of soft protoform clinging onto the finger until it snapped free.

Airachnid purred, smiling again. Oh, not that same smile as before. This was not as predatory or one of satisfaction, but something worse. Something nasty and horrible, and Jack did not dare think what it meant.

"Oh, Jack, whatever have they done to you?" she asked, her voice full of fake concern.

He whimpered, trying to raise his voice again, only for her to stop him with claws tracing his lips. She laughed softly at his predicament.

"I tried to warn Acree that she could never keep a hold on her partners, but some femmes don't listen. Or did she give you away to Megatron?"

"Me—mph!" Jack attempted to cry out, only for Airachnid to tighten her hold on him, cutting him off. She tutted as though he had done something wrong.

"Sh..." she hushed, in a sickly-sweet tone. "I know it must hurt, to lose such a treasured partner. And to be reduced such a beaten pet! You must be so lonely..."

Jack winced, optics squeezing shut as her face was lowered dangerously close to his own. She merely laughed at his terror before drawing away again. His spark was hammering in his chest, pulling at the webs that pinned his servos to the berth, but it was useless. Unable to move, he reached out through the bond, but he was so distant.

Megatron! Megatron!

"Don't worry, little one," Airachnid hushed, petting his finials. "I can save you from this place."

Master, please!

"I will make sure you will never feel alone again. I will not abandon you."

Help me!

Jack froze as suddenly he felt hot ex-vents against his audio, fangs brushing against his finial.

"I will keep you. You will be my pet, forever."

Airachnid's face hovered over his again. The mech was frozen as her servos framed the sides of his face, so he could only look into those brilliantly glowing, malicious optics. Poisoned, tainted, evil. Lifeless.

Airachnid's face split apart.

Jack recoiled, but the grip kept his helm in place, unable to struggle from within the bindings of the webbing. He could only stare down a gaping maw. The human-turned-Cybertronian could not scream, once again paralyzed by terror at the awful, disturbing monster above him. Something fanged lashed out.

MEGATRON!

It was then there was a flash of silver behind the she-demon's helm. There was a terrible roar, so loud and so harsh that his audios were forced to reset as the room trembled. Claws wrapped around the Terrorcon's neck, so ruthlessly Jack heard delicate metal being crushed. The monster's optics went wide with horror and pain, letting out an unnatural, demonic hiss. Then something glinted in the darkness, sharp and deadly and thirsty.

Jack watched it cleave through cervical wiring, slicing fuel lines, struts, and all. The Terrorcon screamed, as high-pitched as a banshee, only for her wail to cut off. Then Airachnid's helm disappeared.

He stared blearily at the two figures that had taken over his vision. Then Airachnid's body to be tossed to the side, leaving only Megatron. Coolant pricked at his optics, chest heaving slowly as he watched the tyrant stride forward.

"Are you infected?" the warlord demanded.

Jack flinched. He opened his mouth to reply, to speak, but his vocalizer was still frozen. Either from his frigid terror or his unbearable pain, he did not know. When he didn't answer, the Decepticon leader repeated his question, louder and harsher. Realizing he could not get his vocalizer to work, he forced himself to move his helm side-to-side in a rapid shake of denial.

Megatron frowned, not looking entirely convinced if the heat of his optics was anything to go by. Jack winced from their intensity, closing his optics as he prepared for his head to be ripped off next.

But it never happened. Suddenly there was a tearing noise by his side, and a jerk on his arm. Then the odd weight pinning it down disappeared. Jack blinked his optics open, staring in shock as Megatron began to work on his other limb. His long sword sliced into the thick, sticky webbing like it was butter and pulled Jack free.

He shuddered in relief as he struggled to curl in on himself—immediately regretting doing so as his side ached. A high-pitched squeak of pain escaped his lips, drawing those crimson optics back to him. And then to his reopened wound, torn apart by Airachnid's claw. Megatron growled and metal fluffed out like the fur of an angry cat. Jack flinched. The warlord's bellow still echoed in his audios. The deadly sword still flashed across his optics. He did not want to he center of that fury.

Megatron blinked him, then his optics brightened in realization. He forced his bristling armor to relax. Then the warlord spoke, in a deep, soft murmur, "It is alright, Quickclaw. No one will harm you."

Jack went to look at the she-demon that almost drained the life from his body. He only saw a glimpse of an unmoving mass before claws were on his cheek again, but they were warm and protective instead of cold and cruel. His gaze was turned away from the mess on the floor.

"Nn..." the poor mutant groaned, wanting the pain to go away more than anything.

He leaned into the servo with a soft sigh. Wishing he could simply sleep. A thumb stroked his cheek in comfort. It took several tries to get his vocalizer to work, the biomechanism clicking until a burst of static finally escaped.

"I..." Jack clicked and tried again. "I-I thought y-you didn't hear me."

"As long as the Blood of Unicron runs through our veins, I will always hear you," Megatrom rumbled. "I will always feel your pain as though it is my own."

Jack shivered. He was silent for a long time, then forced out in a barely audible whine, "I was so scared..."

Hearing it aloud made him feel pathetic. Megatron must have seen him weak, to be so defenseless and pitiful.

Instead of chiding him, the warlord only said, "I know."

"She... she's dead?"

"Yes. There is no need to concern yourself with her like anymore."

Jack let out a shuddering sigh, daring to feel relief. It was over. The horrible nightmare was over. The demon that had been tormenting him for years was finally gone for good.

"...You must think I'm so useless."

Megatron blinked, slow and lazily as he cocked his helm. "What makes you say such?"

"Because I should be dead right now. I didn't even fight back." There was no reply, and Jack wondered if the dictator was angry. "I'll never be good as you. I'm scrap at fighting, I can't manage to stay in one piece, I can't fight my fears." Jack didn't know why he was babbling, knowing he was testing Megatron's patience, but he didn't stop. "Once get you get bored of me, you'll just throw me away."

His only reply was silence. Jack's spark twisted, fearing it was it the truth, that—

"Nonsense."

Jack blinked. "W-wha?"

Megatron's optics were like smoldering coals, dim and memorizing but hot and intense.

"I have no reason to discard you. Far from it, actually." When Jack just stared, he went on, petting the side of his helm, "You are talented, and brave, and clever. You have walked alone all your life, just like you walked alone in the mine collapse and on the path to Vector Sigma. You were chosen to carry the legacy of the Primes."

The former human's optics widened. His vocalizer made no sound, as he was unable to come up with a reply. In his silence, Megatron's servo slid down to the armor over his spark, splaying his fingers.

"Your soul was wasted on a skin of flesh and so Primus has taken it to its rightful place. Unicron's lifeblood runs through you. You deserve to walk among the gods, Quickclaw."

Suddenly Jack felt a presence against his mind, curling around him, embracing him, possessing him. Megatron's optics flashed a bright violet hue.

"And you are mine, and mine alone. You are my blood."

Jack was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say, how to respond. His optics were locked with Megatron's, that sensation of possessiveness never leaving his spark. No one had ever told him he was special. He certainly didn't feel special. He trudged through life, keeping his hands in his pockets and his head down low, trying to stay out of the limelight. He shouldered all the unbearable weight for so long, he had gotten used to it. He had learned to live with the terrible ache in his heart, the one he did not have a name for. Not even the Autobots or Optimus or Arcee could make it go away.

But Megatron could. Megatron was the only one that didn't make him feel so alone.

Jack didn't even register the movement, or the flare of pain that it caused. He didn't even register that he was the one that moved. He only remembered Megatron's broad chest surging towards him, and arms wrapping around the great lord's waist. He felt the former Champion naturally stiffen under the touch, and he wondered if he made a mistake.

Then, slowly, carefully, thick arms seized Jack's shoulders. The former human's face pressed against a solid shoulder. Claws stroked the back of his helm, gently, comfortingly. Megatron's EM field wrapped around him, stroking his own with pulses of assurance and possessiveness.

Jack was his, and no one else's.

They stayed that way for a long time.

Miko was surprisingly quiet as Starscream carried her around the ship. The second-in-command was uttering under his breath, sneering at the husks of fallen drones. There so many. Had the plague really spread so quickly? Both living and infected drones, and even a few Insecticons were strewn across almost every corridor. Either bright blue or ugly purple energon leaked from their graying frames. Some were in one piece, some were not. Some were unrecognizable.

Miko's tank rolled. Weird. She never got nauseous during the gruesome parts of movies. In fact, usually the intense scenes gave her a certain rush of excitement. But this wasn't a movie.

The human-turned-Cybertronian buried her face in Starscream's shoulder, tightening her grip on his armor. His strut was oddly rhythmic, the movement almost comforting.

The Seeker didn't seem happy, muttering, "A diabolical plagues spreads across the entire ship, and I still get stuck babysitting you." Miko didn't bother with a reply, having a pause hang in the air. Then the Decepticon continued, "Learn to use your wrapdrive efficiently. The more you use it in a shorter span of time, the greater the consequences."

Little did Starscream know that Shockwave had done his best. He had increased its fuel efficiency, he had reconfigured her fuel lines, and he had even hacked her processor, adding new coding and removing errors. Not that she would tell him any of this. No, the less people who knew about it, the better. It was bad enough that Shockwave was re-routing insides—she had no desire to invite another to look, too.

Instead, she challenged in small, childish pout, "How do you know?"

"I know."

"Does it have something to do with Skywarp?"

The reaction was instantaneous. Still clinging desperately onto the Seeker, Miko felt armor stiffen, wires pull taut, and she heard a sharp vent. The rhythmic strut wavered as Starscream paused for a split second, before forcing himself to continue. But there was no reply.

She made a small, superficial huff, turning her head to look back into the hall. There were more bodies, but less than the previous hallways. Wherever he was taking her, she hoped they arrived there soon, just so she didn't have to deal with the awkward silence anymore. Then—

"Yes," Starscream answered finally, in a quiet, low murmur.

"Who was he?"

"He... was my trinemate."

"What's that?"

Starscream grunted, either tired of carrying her or her back-to-back questions or he was declined to answer. But he did anyway.

"A trine is... ach, you humans don't have a word for it," the Seeker complained. "A trine... are three Seekers that share the same spark."

"So... like triplets?"

"We share more than blood and looks."

"So...what does that mean?" she asked, still clearly confused. "It's not like you could have been the same people. You were like siblings?"

Starscream sighed, likely already regretting ever humoring her. "I already told you, we shared a spark. We shared each other's thoughts, emotions, pain, and suffering. I felt it when they—"

The Seeker cut off with a strange sound that Miko never heard before. She felt a spike of something in the Decepticon's field, but it vanished before she could decode it. The femme glanced up, only to see Starscream's blazing, narrowed optics were glaring at the hallway before them. Then Miko realized what she felt.

"They... died, didn't they?" she murmured, quietly.

A long pause.

"Yes." Then suddenly that burning gaze looked down at her. "And I despise the fact you are so much like—"

Another strange sound. This time, Starscream stopped dead. At first, Miko thought he cut off on purpose, but then felt his field was pulled in tight, defensively. His optics burned in a hateful glare, but they were not aimed at her. Confused and curious, the femme looked over her shoulder to see a silent spector.

Soundwave.

"What is it?" Starscream demanded impertinently. "Megatron ordered you to dispose of Cylas and the other infected!"

The surveillance chief raised a silent finger, and it took a full second for Miko to realize he was pointing at her.

"W-what?" Miko gasped, uncomfortable that the faceless mech was directing his attention towards her. "I-I'm not infected!"

She wasn't aware her frame started trembling again. No, no, she didn't want to join the countless dead across the floor! Then that visor glanced up at Starscream. Then a deep, gravelly voice spoke, sounding like an echo against her audio.

"Subject: damaged."

It took a full thirty seconds for Miko to realize it came from Soundwave. He could talk? Since when?!

"Obviously," Starscream spat, rolling his optics. "I was just taking her to the medbay!"

Soundwave stared. Suddenly Miko felt a flare of field against her own, full of electric anger, until it retreated just as quickly. Starscream stiffened. It was then Miko noticed the lithe Decepticon's armor was larger than usual, and he stood a little taller. Behind that lifeless visor, she could practically see a cold glare. Then Miko realized.

Soundwave was livid.

Was he mad at her or... was over her? She blinked at the realization, more confused than ever. Why would Soundwave care about her?

No, he was just angry that he had to leave his computer to come hunting for her. The Decepticon crossed the space between him, raising his arms expectantly. There was a scoff above her and Starscream lifted her off his chest. Only for Miko to latch back onto the Seeker's frame.

A second pair of servos touched her frame and her armor clamped down defensively. No! Soundwave was just going to hurt her!

"Release me—" Starscream began to demand, but Miko vehemently refused.

"No!" She practically screamed, gripping onto him tight. "I won't go with him!"

"Miko—"

"I don't want to leave!"

She thought she heard an exasperated sound, but she felt no talons trying to rip her off. Instead, she felt a palm brush the back of her helm, almost soothingly. She adamantly ignored it, even as it traveled to one of her broad winglets. She shuddered at the sensitive sensation, as skillful fingers rubbed circles along the metal. Miko almost growled. As if petting her would—

Then the fingers along her winglet pinched, hard.

Miko squeaked more in surprise than pain, unknowingly flinching, loosening her death grip on Starscream. Allowing Soundwave to pry her off of the Seeker's chest.

"No! Let me go! Let me go!" she protested, trying to wiggle free, but her gears were locked in place.

Soundwave ignored her protests. For being smaller than Starscream, the Decepticon was surprisingly strong, easily taking her in his wing-blade arms.

"No! Starscream! Starscream, help me!" Miko pleaded uselessly.

Her protests fell on deaf audios she was carried away by Soundwave. She saw a glimpse the second-in-command's conflicted expression right before they turned the corner.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! Why could she never have a say anything? Why was she the one always getting punished?

She vented rapidly, but was unable to get enough cool air in her systems. She wasn't aware she started shivering again. Long, thin fingers came to her helm, supporting her there as her body shook in the hold, heating up in his arms as she was carried.

Miko buried her face in Soundwave's thin shoulder, trying to block out this horrible nightmare. She could take whatever Soundwave had in store for her on behalf of her master. She was used to pain. How many times had Shockwave shocked her, slapped her, or pinned her down to his table just for being unruly?

The clanking of pedes was the only sound that filled the silence, seeming to last for eternity. Yet when there was a hiss of a door opening, it came all to soon. Miko shut her optics tight, a whimper escaping her lips. She thought she felt a pat on her helm, but she wasn't sure. However, she did feel that she was lowered onto a berth, its soft material sinking underneath her weight.

However, unable to move or resist, she only clamped down her armor defensively, well aware it was fruitless. Soundwave drew away slowly as he removed his servos from her, his visor still turned to her. She glared back, wishing the mech would hurry up and get it over with.

Then he suddenly turned away from her, crossing to the other side of the room. She instantly realized she wasn't in Shockwave's laboratory. It looked more like a berthroom. Where was she? The femme looked around, trying to get a clue, faintly hearing Soundwave tinkering with something. She was so invested with her investigation, she jumped when suddenly the silent mech appeared by her side again.

She flinched and wanted to hit him, but instead he snatched her wrist, pulling it away from her body. The former human was only confused, until Soundwave raised a syringe filled with pure, healthy energon. He injected it into her fuel line without further ceremony or a sound.

Miko's spark pulsed faster as her paranoid mind came to life. What was he doing? Was the energon laced with something? Nanites to control her?! The mutant squirmed, but the Decepticon merely laid a palm against her chest, keeping her still as he drained the last of the energon.

Miko felt no burning pain coursing through her veins, no invasive drowsiness or thoughts. Nothing. If anything, her distorted vision cleared as fresh energy rushed through her body. She blinked, her thoughts coming in faster, clearer. Her venting eased a little. She curled her fingers several times, finding they were still horribly stiff, but she could move.

She stated at the now empty vial, then at Soundwave. Already the Decepticon looked calmer, bristling armor falling back into place and field tucked in tight. The surveillance chief had no blasters, no tentacles, no scalpel. He had taken to probably the only room free of infected and refueled her. But it didn't make sense.

There was no reason for Soundwave to go out of his way for her benefit. He was probably under Megatron's orders, she realized bitterly. The Decepticon wouldn't want to lose a valuable "asset" to dangle in front of the Autobots.

That's what she was: a tool.

Miko was jolted out of her thoughts as suddenly an arm tucked underneath her helm. Before she could work up a protest, Soundwave propped her up into a sitting position. Miko shook a little as she tried to catch her balance. When the mech judged she wasn't going to topple over, he retreated, stepping out of her EM field. Then spoke again.

"Inquiry: allow access?"

The monotone statement almost sounded like a question, but Miko had no idea what he was saying."What?"

"Processor: Inquiring access."

Access to her... oh.

"W-why?" she demanded, optics narrowed suspiciously.

"Systems check," Soundwave answered quickly.

"Thought that was Doc Knock's job."

"Knock Out: otherwise engaged."

Surprised was the least to describe how Miko felt. No one had ever asked to establish a link. Shockwave just went ahead and plugged into her port without a single word, proceeding to rearrange her processor however he saw fit. Only Shockwave had bothered with a systems check, to ensure all her protocols were functioning normally, and that was only when he had to.

"What if I say no?" Miko dared to challenge.

"Soundwave: accept decision."

Miko was really not expecting that reply. A Decepticon, one of the ones that captured her and tortured her, giving her a choice. Maybe the energon was drugged, or she was still really out of it. However, Soundwave stood there, unmoving as a statue. The femme opened her mouth to refuse, that she wasn't going to let anyone in her helm if she could help it.

However, Shockwave would hack into her anyway. Miko didn't like the idea of her slaver going through her processor again, and or anyone else for that matter. Not even Knock Out. Thanks to that monkey-wrench and his experiments with Synth-En, she had almost gotten turned into a vampire-bot.

Just the thought of the oni, his claws on her, made her shiver. What if there was something wrong with her, from Cylas? He had touched her, nearly drained her energon… could something had passed from mere touch? Another shudder. No, she didn't want to be a Terrorcon.

Still, there was a bitter taste in her mouth as Miko forced out, "Fine."

However, Soundwave must have sensed her reluctance, because he approached slowly and cautiously. She felt his electric field press against her tentatively, as the servo positioned behind her back. The Decepticon held it there for a good ten seconds, and when the femme did not move or resist, he gently placed his fingers on the back of her neck. Miko couldn't help but wince and shrug her shoulders, and automatically the servo retreated.

The femme forced herself to relax. She just wanted to get this over with. Narrowing her optics in concentration, she activated the plating covering her medical port, shifting it out of place. Noticing the invitation, Soundwave's servo approached again. To both her relief and her displeasure, the Decepticon didn't probe this time. He established a connection, and Miko felt the familiar of feeling of her firewalls being forced down.

She shivered. It wasn't like Shockwave or Starscream. Soundwave was cold. His coding was like a glacier of ice traveling through her processor, slow and freezing and consuming everything in its way.

Instinctively she stiffened, wrapping her arms around herself out of old habits. Soundwave didn't retreat, but he slowed the rate he went through her coding in response to her movements, until certain she wasn't going to jerk away.

He poked at the same protocols Shockwave always did, moving to one to the next, so Miko could only assume everything seemed in order. Then, the hacker came along that same string of code that the former human despised more than anything. Directly connected, she felt that frigid, precise spike of irritation.

Starscream had no authority interfering with her slave coding.

Before Miko could blink, it felt like the weight of the world fell on her shoulders. It was like her frame was being crushed, she couldn't move or resist or protest. The shackles of the inhibitor latched around her processor, dragging her down to Hell. The human-turned-Cybertronian almost shorted out at the sensation. It took every wire in her being not to start sobbing then and there, still attached to Soundwave.

She was a slave again. Bound to Shockwave, her slaver and master.

She should have known, that was what Soundwave's plan all along. She must have made some noise, because she felt a feather-like stroke on her side, almost in comfort. Then the Decepticon moved on to another line of data. Miko tried to fill the connection with her own irritation. Why wouldn't he just leave?

Soundwave ignored her demand, playing with a sequence, activating protocols. Fingers appeared on the back of her helm, slow and precise and gentle. Rhythmic, almost lulling. Miko almost didn't notice she shut her optics off. When? She didn't—

She felt her wires loosening without her permission, her processor turning over in a self-diagnosis check, her systems beginning to the first steps of recalibrating. What?

Defragmentation cycle: activated.

Then Miko realized what Soundwave was messing with.

"Oh, you son of a—"

Her insult was cut off as the world turned to black, and she fell into deep recharge.