(Crawls back to civilization after month in Camp NaNoWriMo, pants heavily before throwing arms up in triumph) I did it! I'm alive! With more chapters to share! Woo! I think that was the most fun I've had in NaNoWriMo yet and I even finished early enough to post a chapter before May! (Pauses) everyone's still here right? (Waves new chapter tentatively as proof of return) Hello?
Review Response: Dear HeartGuardianSol, hello there! Red's still online and paranoid as ever, don't worry. As you can see, I'm back! At least for now anyway ... first manuscripts are fun to write but really hard to edit. Anyway, happy (late) B-Day! Hope you like this chapter!
Dear Moonlightdeer, hi! Here's another chapter for you! Hope you like it!
Dear xVentressx, greetings! Glad you liked the last chapter, here's a new one ... hope you enjoy it as well! Camp NaNoWriMo can be very time consuming ... honestly I thought you wouldn't be hearing from me until May at the earliest so it kind of felt like disappearing. Oh well (winks).
Dear igeegeei, hi there! (Reads info part of review, stares with wide optics) Okay just ... wow. I'm going to have to remember never to send my OCs down there. I'm all for character-building through bad situations but that ... that would be too much for them to handle. (Offers Brazenshot an energon goodie) Take it along with my spark-felt good wishes, I'm rooting for you! Kudos on doing such in-depth research igeegeei! It's amazing! Yes, Red Alert has come to trust Starwish. Kind of surprising considering how paranoid he is but hey, even he knows a sweet 'bot when he sees one. Anyway, glad you liked the last chapter! I hope you like this one as well, but fair warning, there is no fluff in it whatsoever.
Dear KHGiggle, hello! As I think I stated in my PM, Rumble and Frenzy are mechs, not femmes. Sorry if I somehow gave the impression that they were femmes, it was unintentional. Medics are well aware of PTSD, so I'm certain Cogwheel will do her utmost to stay out of Arcee's line of sight. Getting attacked by a glitching patient is not fun, especially when that patient is as fierce as Arcee. I don't think Hot Shot is going to be important at least, not in a main character kind of way. I only named him because I got tired of writing about nameless mechs and I remembered him from a Transformers Animated episode. But who knows? The characters seem to enjoy running away with my plot, so he might become important at a later date. Doubt it though. Decepticons do indeed target medics (why else would there be so few of them?), they're scum like that. (Chuckles nervously) Let's see if Hardwire can escape Kaon's clutches before considering making him a medic protector, shall we? Hope you like the new chapter! (Just curious, did you try NaNoWriMo? If so, how'd you do?)
Dear Giddy, greetings! Thank you, I had a blast and made quite a bit of progress! As for the rescued spark ... me Author have plans. (Muses cackle madly, Author glares them to silence). Yeah, anyway, Cogwheel took some digging on the TFWiki to find, she only appears in the Aligned books and even then, I think she only gets a passing reference. Still, anyone who worked with Ratchet when Ratchet was a young just had to make an appearance in my story. It was just ... too good of an opportunity to pass up! That and I needed more medics. Huh, Sunny-cuddles are shockingly popular. Cool! (Pauses at the fritz part) Uh, new chapter to revive you?
Dear Muirgen79, hello! Correct. The twinlings Zipline and Fast Track are safe in Iacon with their Guardians but Starwish and Hardwire have been captured. As proved in this new chapter (points down to chapter).
Dear raven-saber, hi! I'm glad you liked it so much and I hope you like this one too! Despite the lack of anything fluffy, that is. In answer to your question, yes, Starwish will be romantically involved with a canon male character. You'll just have to wait for me to rescue Starwish from the Decepticons and get her and her intended Significant Other to realize that they're both in love with the other. (Sighs,) and I thought Hardwire was the oblivious one when it came to affections. His sister is even more clueless!
Dear StormRaven333, greetings! Glad you liked the chapter and Red Alert's appearance! Hope you like this chapter too...
Author's Note: Okay, first off, I think I need to introduce someone. (Grumbles low in throat) Everyone, meet Shockwave (Prime). Otherwise known as the second most annoying character I have ever had to write. Ever. Only Starscream frustrates me more to write than Shockwave. It isn't that I hate his character or anything it's just ... Shockwave's so emotionless and clinical, I can't get into his head very well at all. Apologies ahead of time if he acts OOC, it's the best I can do with the data I have on him. Secondly, if there is anyone else out there reading this participated in Camp NaNoWriMo, congrats! Whatever your final word count is by tomorrow, I'm sure you all did awesome and I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thirdly, to those here who did not participate and were forced to wait a month for a new chapter, thank you for your patience.
Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are my OCs who have currently run away cackling with the plot. (Goes to chase after OCs, "Oi! Come back with that chapter! I still need to edit it!)
Chapter Thirty-Four: Cages, Part Two
Shockwave looked up from the monitors silently, studying the subject's physical condition with his own keen optic. He watched the mech lay there on the table, utterly still except for the occasional intake of vents to regulate frame temperature. Outwardly, he was not an extraordinary subject. In fact, Shockwave had been … discontented to learn that Megatron wanted him to leave his current project in favor of studying the subject. Now however…
Shockwave remotely triggered the audio/video recording devices hidden for his personal uses about his lab, "Cycle three after subject's delivery to my laboratory. Subject has remained offline ever since regular injections of strong sedative starting during the first cycle's repair efforts. However, despite sedation, after witnessing the destruction he is capable of both on the field and in my lab despite injury, I have deemed restraints to be a logical precaution in the event the subject comes online prematurely."
Glancing down at the monitors, he pulled up another readout, "Deep scans on the subject's internals have revealed … unique modifications to his structure. Most of the modifications are seemingly minor and would be easily overlooked by medics as custom preferences in frame design. However, my own examination has uncovered an internal subspace pocket attached to his secondary energon pump. The purpose of having a subspace pocket attached to such a delicate and vital internal organ is as yet unknown to me. I will investigate this matter briefly before beginning the processor scan Lord Megatron ordered."
Leaving the monitors, Shockwave approached the lab table to which the subject was strapped down and carefully reached his servos down into the maze of tubing and wires that made up part of the mech's anatomy. Long experience made it easy to find the secondary pump as it lay inert in the mech's chassis. The purpose of the secondary pump was to help syphon energy to necessary areas when rapid reaction time was vital to the frame, such as a battle, or to keep the frame online should the main pump fail and it's location was the same in most frames.
As he carefully unhooked the secondary pump from its host frame, he mused to himself on the possible ramifications of the internal subspace pocket, it would be logical to theorize that the pocket's primary function involves the energon flow of the frame during battle. Perhaps … emergency injections of energon so the subject does not run low in the middle of a firefight? Fascinating.
Carefully pulling the pump free, it wouldn't do to prematurely offline Megatron's prize before all available data had been collected, Shockwave rolled the item over in his servos curiously, taking in its make and condition. A rounded model. Most efficient for its purpose. His optic flashed a deeper red as Shockwave ran a powerful scan over the part, looking for anything unusual in its internal tubing. His HUD flashed, immediately pulling up readouts and reports garnered from the scan.
Shockwave stood there, perfectly still in frame as he analyzed the data flowing to his processors. Shockwave's touch abruptly became more delicate as he handled the secondary pump, Most fascinating. Carefully, Shockwave opened the plating of the secondary pump, exposing its collection of tubes, pistons, and wires that made it functional. Unsubspacing an extraction needle, he slid the tip into one of the pump's lines and delicately extracted a small amount of the red film lining the inside of the tube.
That done, he subspaced the needle and the sample and turned back to the mech on the medical berth. As he reached into the mech and began carefully reattaching the pump, he spoke aloud for the recording logs, "Secondary pump shows residual traces of two variations of red energon within its lines. The grade of fuel appears to have been ninety seven percent purity, the highest purity ever recorded for processed red energon. I extrapolate that it was these ingredients, added to his fuel at a key moment, that enabled him to forcibly restrain and separate the components of a Gestalt on the battlefield."
Shockwave carefully finished rewiring the pump into the frame, it would be useful to see it activate the subspace pocket at a later date, "As there are no signs of red energon in the subject's tanks, it is logical to assume that the red energon was stored within the subject's subspace and released into his system via injection into his secondary pump. This would have allowed the effects of the red energon types to be immediate." It also explains how the subject took out ten of my restraining drones immediately after coming online.
Shockwave removed his servos from the mech's internals and moved to check the monitors again, "The red energon, coupled with the subject's Bāsākā coding would make unleashing the subject on the battlefield truly devastating. I doubt the Prime's resolve to create such a weapon and the capability of his medical staff to succeed in the procedures needed to install the subspace pocket safely into the subject's secondary pump."
He motioned for a waiting drone to bring him a needed tool that he did not carry in his subspace before looking up at one of the cameras in his lab, "Soundwave, might I suggest an investigation into who might have the capabilities to perform the necessary procedures? If the creator of the subject is still functional, he may very well be able to replicate the procedure for Lord Megatron's purposes." There was no acknowledgement, but Shockwave knew that Soundwave had heard. Soundwave heard everything in Kaon and most of what happened on Cybertron.
He refocused on the task at servo, Megatron wanted to know more about the Bāsākā Syndrome phenomena and whether or not it could be forcibly installed into another Cybertronian. A medical grade scan could show him the bulk of the processor coding, but as Shockwave was looking for something more in depth and specific, a medical grade scan would not be sufficient.
Striding to stand by the mech's helm, he tilted it to the side so that the back of the helm was facing him. His fingers carefully probed the base of the helm, searching for a dataport. Dataports were a rarity now, the war making it too dangerous to have a way for someone to directly link with another's processor. Most had insisted on getting theirs removed or welded shut in order to prevent easy access for hackers and torture specialists. Still, it was logical to check every possibility.
Predictably, the small dataport was welded tightly shut and even had a small piece of extra metal plating welded on top of it to prevent forced reopening. Shockwave examined the welds with interest, noting the size and precision of the marks. They were barely noticeable, faint to the point that the casual observer would miss them altogether. Whoever worked on your frame was skilled in their work. Reaching into his subspace, Shockwave retrieved a specialized grinding wheel and set to work removing the weld holding the protective piece in place.
A shower of sparks launched into the air, lighting his area of work like a fountain of miniature fires. Shockwave ignored the sparks as they flew in every direction, some even landing on his thick armor plating before sputtering into nonexistence. Because the welds were thin and precise rather than overly strong, Shockwave was able to make the removal of the metal piece swift and easy. The size and shape of the metal piece, as well as the subtle nature of the welds, was no doubt an effort to make anyone examining the subject's helm believe that the dataport had been removed. Only Shockwave's scans and great experience had prevented him from falling for the ruse.
Subspacing the grinding wheel, Shockwave grabbed the chisel a drone had fetched for him and worked the metal piece loose with a few deft movements. The rectangular metal piece fell to the floor with a soft ping that Shockwave ignored as he began working on opening the dataport previously hidden beneath, "Subject is equipped with a 7.5 size rectangular Exilian brand dataport."
He barely glanced up from his work to curtly order a hovering drone, "Fetch dataport cable twenty-five C." The drone nodded and trotted off, leaving Shockwave to work the dataport open with practiced servos.
Shockwave had just managed to partially slide back the dataport cover when the monitors keeping track of his subject's life signs started beeping in alarm. Shockwave stiffened, listening to the sound of the monitor as his HUD opened a new window of data for his review. Accelerated life signs, increased processor activity, all indicative of onlining protocols. Impossible. He is under heavy sedation. The effect of the drugs should not wear off until-
His calculations were interrupted by an unintelligible yell and a sudden spasmodic jerk from the subject of his examination. Although normally confident in the strength of his precautionary restraints, the current circumstances and Shockwave's previous experience with his subject made the head scientist take a few steps discreetly backward.
He watched silently as red optics snapped open and the helm of his patient whipped back and forth in an attempt to pinpoint location. The mech shouted something incomprehensible, a collection of rounded sounds that made no sense to Shockwave's audios. Shockwave remembered reading the report of the mech Breakdown, who had noted the strange linguistic behavior of the mech now strapped firmly to Shockwave's medical berth.
Shockwave's helm tilted faintly to one side as he processed the shout again. It was incomprehensible to him, but that did not mean it was meaningless. He was able to detect clear, enunciated patterns even in that short burst of speech. The mech's vocalizer wasn't glitching, he speaking another language. Straightening his helm, Shockwave murmured softly, "Fascinating…"
Hardwire was disorientated, his frame ached and his helm pounded nauseatingly as he struggled to figure out his surroundings. Worst of all, something in the back of his processor was screaming a warning. He was in danger, the something said, but he didn't know why or where. He groaned and stared fuzzily at the ceiling, it was a smooth, reflective black metal. My room doesn't have a ceiling like that. Neither does the medbay… "Ratchet? Aid? Where am I?"
He tilted his helm to the right, frowning in rapidly increasing panic as nothing familiar came into view and there was no response to his words, "Bulkhead? Prime? Where am I?"
A voice he recognized from somewhere spoke from his left, "Fascinating…" Hardwire twisted his helm to look at the speaker in confusion, what was fascinating? A single red optic stared expressionlessly at him from a helm set atop a massive, predominately black/purple frame.
Hardwire felt the world, or maybe his spark, briefly stop. For a klik, he could only stare in wide-opticed horror at the figure standing a short distance away, then instinct kicked in and he tried to scramble to his pedes and get away. His frame lurched against heavy restraints and he realized he was pinned down at the hips, ankles, upper arms, and wrists. Looking around wildly for some way to get loose, Hardwire finally realized where he was and froze from horror again.
He was in a lab. To be terribly precise, he was in Shockwave's lab. Shockwave, the head scientist of the Decepticons, creator of the Predacons and, if the tales Bulkhead had told him were to be believed, the most sadistically sparkless mech on the entire planet. Hardwire's vents were starting to heave as he twisted to stare at Shockwave again. The mech was watching him silently, standing a few feet away next to a group of beeping medical machines that Hardwire noted with revulsion were connected to various parts in his exposed middle.
Upon being stared at for several breems, Shockwave finally moved. His faceless helm tilted to one side as he asked coldly, "Are you cognizant of who I am and your current situation?"
Hardwire stared incredulously at his captor before whispering hoarsely, "Shockwave. You're Shockwave." He glanced around the bare, painfully clean lab and added shakily, "And I'm currently gibbering in English while strapped down to a berth in your lab."
His helm turned to watch Shockwave again as the other mech shifted slightly and started speaking, "Most interesting. The subject appears to be utilizing a fully functional alternative language. Evidence also suggests that he is cognizant of his surroundings." Subject? Hardwire felt his cables tense despite the pain the action caused. I'm a subject. A test subject. I have to get out of here!
A door behind Shockwave slid open and a mech walked in carrying a cable. The mech was smaller than Shockwave, more spindly and with more internal parts exposed than any mech Hardwire had seen before. One red optic sat atop a thin neck and one glance at the stiff, robotic manner with which the mech moved told Hardwire that if the mech had ever been someone … he wasn't anymore. The machine silently handing Shockwave the long cable it had been carrying was no longer a living, functioning mech. It was … something else entirely. A drone.
Hardwire felt his tanks threaten to purge whatever energon he had left and his spark flutter madly in its chamber. Is Shockwave going to do that to me too? His processor whirled with dread and fear, he couldn't even remember how he had gotten into this mess. When had he been captured? Were there others? Had the femmes they'd been trying to rescue escaped? What about Prime and the others? Were they locked up somewhere or … offline?
His questions were abruptly pushed to one side as Shockwave announced to the room at large, "I will now investigate the structure of his Bāsākā coding and determine the likelihood of transferring the coding to another processor. Drone, hold his helm still."
Hardwire jerked back as far as his restraints would let him, "What?" He's going to do what? Hardwire's optics swept over the length of the cable, watching as Shockwave plugged one end into a large computer console sitting against the wall nearest Hardwire's helm. Hardwire's spark dropped with dread as he remembered the Transformers Prime series and the cable Megatron had used to extract information. A Cortical Physic Patch? Oh no. No, no, no, no, no-
Shockwave's assistant grabbed his helm and forcibly turned it so that he was staring at the wall, no! With a yell, Hardwire started struggling. Bucking, squirming, shouting, he strained to do something, anything that would stop the drone or the nearing sound of footsteps. Twisting his helm at a painful angle, he spotted an exposed cable in the drone's wrist and latched onto it with his denta. He ground down, hoping that the action would make the drone release his helm, at least temporarily.
His denta abruptly punctured the energon line and the sour taste processed fluids and energon flooded into his mouth without warning. Hardwire sputtered and jerked back, trying to cough out the life-blood of another mech. The drone didn't so much as twitch, it simply grabbed his spluttering helm with both servos and forced Hardwire's helm into the position Shockwave wanted.
Panting, Hardwire thrashed, trying to get away even as energon dribbled onto his faceplates from the injured mech's wrist. This has to be a nightmare, it has to be! Make it stop! A shadow fell across him as Shockwave's voice sounded right overhelm, "Hold still if you do not wish to be short-circuited by the hardline connection."
Hardwire hissed the most inventive curses he could think of at Shockwave, his struggles having been forcibly reduced to mere shaking by the firm, unrelenting grip of the drone and the thick restraints on the rest of his frame. He felt fingers pry something open on the back of his helm and barely had time to wonder what Shockwave was doing before something icy cold was pushed inside.
A numb feeling raced through his helm, spreading rapidly from the area of Shockwave's tampering. It felt like someone was burying his helm in freshly cut ice cubes, the cold burning more painfully than any fire could hope to match. A dim part of Hardwire's processor realized that Shockwave had just plugged the long cable into his helm, but the rest of him was too busy thrashing and screaming in horrified rage at the icy feeling sliding deeper and deeper into his mind.
Icy claws dug into his processor and suddenly Hardwire's frame went slack against his will. His mind was just too cold to command his body. He could only lie there, venting heavily, as something foreign sorted swiftly through the coding of his processor, searching for something in particular. Hardwire managed to summon enough willpower to squeeze his optics shut, he didn't want to see his surroundings, he just wanted it all to go away.
Please stop, please … go away. Leave me be. As the pain slowly receded, leaving only numb paralysis in its wake, Hardwire became dimly aware that Shockwave had left his side and was talking to himself again. Hardwire felt a tear work loose from underneath his optic shutters to slide down his faceplate as Shockwave's cold, emotionless tone washed over him, "Processor sync complete, the computer has found the Bāsākā coding. The coding appears to have been altered from its most common state, restricting the subject from attacking femmes or younglings. Further analysis will be needed to determine how the alteration was successfully done…"
Hardwire wished he could mute his audio receptors, he didn't want to hear Shockwave verbally dissect him. Unfortunately, the numbness in Hardwire's helm made it too hard to concentrate and he was forced to listen as Shockwave spoke aloud and in depth about what he found as he coolly commanded the computer to pick apart sections of Hardwire's coding. Hardwire could feel every shift in attention, every probe through his mind, and internally screamed in rage that he could do nothing to stop it.
Hardwire felt another tear trickle free of his optic shutters to join the first, Prime, Bulkhead, anyone … make it stop. Just make it stop …
Knockout trotted down the long, dimly lit corridors of Darkmount, humming softly to himself to drown out the memory of Starscream's latest shrieking rant. Honestly, the mech could be such a bore at times. At least he'd managed to escape early this time, he mused with a cocky smile. Breakdown had worked his miracle timing again and commed just as Starscream was warming to his rant, stating that the remaining Gestalt members who had fought in the Algol battle had destabilized and needed Knockout's immediate attention.
His smile refused to fade as he bounced into his medbay and called to his assistant, "Alright Breakdown, which one is trying to join the Well this time?"
Breakdown didn't respond and with a faint frown Knockout looked over to see what Breakdown was doing. The moment he caught sight of his large assistant, Knockout's good mood vanished. Breakdown was sitting on an empty medical berth, shoulders hunched, helm cupped in his servos, "Breakdown?" Breakdown didn't so much as twitch at the sound of his name.
With growing unease, Knockout accessed the medbay network and checked the monitors to his Gestalt patients. They were all stable. The frown on Knockout's face deepened, It's not like Breakdown to lie about a medical condition without my say so. Striding over to Breakdown, Knockout lightly tapped his companion's big shoulder strut with a polished fingertip, "Not that I don't appreciate the save, Breakdown, but maybe you should explain why you called me down here on a false alarm. Hmm?"
Breakdown's only response was to take a massive intake of air and let it out shakily. Knockout's worry blossomed into full concern and he tilted his helm to try to look at Breakdown's faceplates, "Breakdown, talk to me," he hesitated a klik before adding quietly, "that's an order, Breakdown. Tell me what is going on."
Finally Breakdown raised his helm from his servos, his yellow optics looked pained, "There was a … problem … with the vehicons in sector eight. The glitches rewired the hallway lighting incorrectly again so I was headed down to straighten them out." Breakdown's servos clenched together and his shoulder's hunched, "I took the shortcut through Shocker's lab."
Knockout hissed disapprovingly, "And you thought that was a good idea because?"
Breakdown shrugged listlessly, "I was in a hurry."
Knockout sat down on the berth across from Breakdown, "I can understand that. But what does you taking a shortcut have to do with calling me to the medbay under false pretenses? Not that I preferred the alternative, mind you."
Breakdown's jaw worked soundlessly for a klik before he finally grunted, "One of his drones walked past me … carrying … carrying a 7.5 processor interface cable…"
Knockout's optics flashed with understanding as the puzzle pieces assembled in his mind, "Oh … Oh my."
Breakdown nodded weakly, "Yeah, 'oh'." Reaching up, he rubbed his faceplates wearily with a servo, "I thought I was over that. But seeing the cable … seeing Shocker's drone … I couldn't handle it." Knockout nodded in silent understanding, after all, how could anyone get over the kind trauma of what Shockwave had done to Breakdown?
With a sigh, Knockout rested a servo on the top of Breakdown's helm, silently offering what comfort he could for an event that could never be changed. Breakdown allowed the servo to remain on his helm, his voice a bare murmur as he said, "He's gonna do it again, Knockout."
Knockout winced at the lifeless quality in his normally stubborn companion, "There's nothing you can do Breakdown."
Breakdown's engine revved deeply with long festered hatred as he slammed his servos on either side of him, the medical berth shuddering under the force of the blow, "And who's fault is that?" Yellow optics snapped up to glare fiercely into Knockout's red gaze. Breakdown didn't say what he was thinking, but Knockout didn't need words to translate that look, not after all they had been through together. "I'm going to stop it this time," Breakdown's gaze said silently, "I won't let it happen again. No matter what it costs me."
Knockout cocked an optic ridge and tilted his helm to one side, "Want some help?" he asked without words. Breakdown's faceplates registered surprise, then acceptance of Knockout's silent offer to help. Dipping his helm again, Breakdown stood up with a grunt, "Come on, you look like you could use another buffing."
Knockout nodded happily at the acceptance and stood. Breakdown wasn't much for planning anymore, he would need someone else to work out the fine points of a strategy. He would need Knockout. Knockout hadn't survived with his paint job intact for so long without learning to outthink most Cybertronians, it wouldn't be very difficult to figure out how to help his big friend with his goal. But who can think properly when they're looking so shabby? I'll figure it out after the buffing, "Remember to be careful with my shoulder plates, Breakdown, I just added a coat of polish."
Breakdown allowed a tiny grimace to show briefly on his face as he grabbed the buffer and began obediently working on Knockout's back with exaggerated care. Even as his servos went through the near therapeutic motions of using the buffer, Breakdown's processor was far away, buried deep in memories of pain and betrayal. His engine growled softly again, I don't care who it is, I'm not going to let it happen again. Even if I have to- He felt pain stab through his processor as his thoughts went "out-of-bounds". He paused in the buffing long enough to regather his thoughts and mentally retreat to the deepest recesses of his own processor.
When the pain finally receded, Breakdown ground his denta, someday Shockwave. Someday I'll give you a proper thank you for what you did to me. Then you'll never do it to anyone ever again.