Misgel: Holy hell, it's been a whole year?! Sorry for the delay, everyone, but me and Rian Moeru's personal lives have been busy. Hopefully the next update will be much sooner.
One thing Wheeljack never understood about Vehicons was that they just didn't know when to quit. Maybe it had something to do with their programming. Servant class, they were built with the sole purpose to serve their master. Before the war, drones were only used for the unwanted, dirty jobs. It was the Decepticons that redesigned them, making their own army of faceless, mindless soldiers. A cheap replacement over loyal followers.
Because Megatron was definitely running out of those.
Wheeljack probably had a part in that. He lost count how many Decepticon bases he had raided–and destroyed–over the course of the war. And sure, he had been on the Nemesis before, but he never had the luxury of riddling the walls with his explosives. Until now.
Wheeljack wore a triumphant smirk as he slapped a grenade on yet another bulkhead. It let out a beep of confirmation as it magnetized to the metal, allowing him to turn away. Only to be greeted by Ultra Magnus's stern glare.
"Remember, Wheeljack, we destroy the ship only as a last resort," the glum reminded him. "Our mission is to seize the Omega Lock."
"Our mission is to stop the Decepticons from firing it," the Wrecker retorted. "By any means necessary, if I recall."
Ultra Magnus made a scowl, obviously displeased by Wheeljack twisting Prime's words. Well, he didn't technically say that, but he made it clear that failure was not an option.
"If you must deploy the explosive," the Wrecker commander drawled, "Ensure we're not aboard the ship."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure we're all off," Wheeljack's cool optics narrowed into a glare. "Including the kids."
"Make sure that you do. Regardless, we must make our way to the bridge."
Right. Secure the ship, secure the Omega Lock. Save the kids. What was left of them.
Wheeljack had seen his fair share of war, enough to know their case wasn't a unique one. Countless Autobots had been captured and tortured until they were nothing more than an empty shell of themselves. Sometimes prisoners would be reprogrammed, either by their captors or they would do it themselves, just to get it over with. Pit, even Bumblebee and Arcee had almost cracked.
With those somber thoughts in mind, they went on with their mission. The trio kept their weapons raised and their armor clamped down, braced for an ambush around every corner. But instead of meeting resistance, the Wreckers were met with hallway after hallway, littered with the shredded husks of drones.
"Looks like we missed one Pit of a party," Wheeljack commented. He eyed the gorge cutting through an Eradicon's chestplate, energon leaking onto the floor.
"That looks like the work of a Predacon," Bulkhead observed. "Why would they turn on their own creators?"
"Who cares? Less 'Cons we have to deal with."
"I am more inclined about the beasts," Ultra Magnus frowned.
"Eh, we'll worry about that part when we get to it."
Without waiting for his commander's response, Wheeljack continued tearing down the halls. They sprinted down the corridors, the sound of their combined heavy pedes loudly ricocheting off the walls. Wheeljack knew it wasn't the quietest approach, but the element of surprise went out the window a while ago. And besides, stealth had never been his strong suit.
Finally the Wreckers came to a lone door. There were no guards, not that Wheeljack was surprised. They had likely left their post in all the chaos, either to assist their comrades to fight off the invaders or fled to save their own chassis. Not that he really cared.
His only concern was the door.
"Permission to blow stuff up?" Wheeljack asked.
"Granted," Ultra Magnus replied.
Wheeljack's dermas spread wide with malicious gleefulness. He produced another grenade from the near-endless supply he kept in subspace and attached it to where the two doors met. With a silent wave to his compatriots, the Autobots soundlessly retreated back to the corner, taking cover behind it. Magnas gave one final nod, which Wheeljack took as his que to press his thumb against his hand-held detonator.
A piercing ring split through the air just as the grenade's single light flared. It was the only warning before a ball of fire and smoke swallowed the door whole. The resulting thunderous noise ripped apart metal and audio receptors its wake was a dark haze that filled the entire hallway.
Wheeljack did not dare move, even when the debris stung his optics and invaded his ventilation systems. Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead also kept still as statues, even when the rumbling faded into silence. It lingered in the air for several long, deafening moments.
And even then, it was all too sudden when red bolts of energon started flying in their direction. The Wreckers instinctively flinched back behind their cover, but not without returning a couple shots themselves. Apparently not all the drones had left their post.
"Don't they know most of their buddies are dead?" Wheeljack seethed as he rounded the corner with his cannon.
"They must have missed the memo!" Bulkhead commented over the energon fire, mimicking his comrade's movements.
The haze prevented Wheeljack from seeing his targets, and the residual heat from the blast interfered with his thermal vision, so he had to resort to firing near blind. Pained yelps and heavy thuds confirmed he was hitting something. It wasn't until the hailstorm of energon subsided to an occasional round that the group dared to move forward. Ultra Magnus took point, with Bulkhead and Wheeljack covering his flank. They marched through the haze, shooting as they went, until they stepped through the threshold.
Wheeljack had only been upon the Nemesis's bridge once before, when he was captured by Starscream's forces during his first trip to Earth. It wasn't much different than what he remembered. The countless monitors around the room, once filled with various data and diagrams regarding the ship, were flashing an angry red. Wheeljack didn't know what it meant, but didn't look good. The bustle that filled the bridge before was gone, replaced by the lifeless husks of the defending drones.
Only a lone figure stood in the center.
Soundwave.
The Decepticon's visor was angled towards them. He hardly seemed disturbed at the massacre of his comrades. Rather, he was just standing there, as if he was patiently waiting for the Autobots to approach him. Wheeljack was all too happy to oblige.
Unsheathing the twin swords from his back, he lunged forward. He cleared the distance between him and his opponent in a single bound, yet he still wasn't fast enough. Soundwave twisted away just as Wheeljack's blades sliced through the air he once occupied. At the same time, two tendrils snaked out from his chest, coiling around the Wrecker in a vice grip.
Using Wheeljack's own momentum against him, Soundwave flung him to the far side of the bridge. The mech slammed into a workstation with such force that it crumbled underneath him. It was a painful impact, but he had been through worse. From his upside down position, he watched as Bulkhead rushed up behind the Decepticon.
Like he had eyes on the back of his helm, Soundwave effortlessly dodged that attack, too. He whirled away from Bulkhead's massive mace, electrified data-cables snapping towards his direction. Only for a burly servo to snatch one at the neck, pulling it taut. Ultra Magnus brought down his other arm–transformed into a sharp blade–upon the tendril, cleaving it right off.
Soundwave didn't scream, not that Wheeljack expected him to. But it must have been painful, judging by how the Decepticon seized up. He stumbled away from his attackers, drunk with agony. It bought Bulkhead enough time to correct his charge. He skidded to a halt and turned on his heel, sending his mace straight into Soundwave's belly. The third-in-command was sent crashing into a workstation. Not wasting a moment, Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead chased after him, while Wheeljack corrected his position.
So when the dazed Decepticon finally glanced up, he was greeted with the sight of three Autobots glaring down upon him. The barrels of their cannons were pointed at his helm.
"Now is a fine time for surrender," Ultra Magnus commented.
Soundwave merely tilted his chin, but it was hardly a nod. Wheeljack could feel the Decepticon's hidden optics burning through his glass visor. Soundwave didn't become Champion of Polyhex by surrendering. It was better for everyone if they just shot him now.
Wheeljack was just about to voice as such until a grating, high-pitched, awful sound pierced the air. A sound that Wrecker was all too familiar with. He could already feel the floor quivering beneath his pedes, and yet by the time he turned, there was already a massive red Predacon filling the doorway.
Wings partially expanded, it half-flew, half-leapt across the length of the bridge. Barreling right into Wheeljack. The Wrecker was sent skidding across the floor with a shower of sparks, the monster still on top of him. It expertly pinned him down; its razor-sharp talons digging into his reinforced armor. Rageful golden optics stared down at him.
Wheeljack responded with an impish smile. "How you doin'?"
The Predacon only regarded him a moment more before opening its beak in another audial-piercing screech. The mech shut it up with a quick punch on the nose, a trick he had learned from the humans. The beast's helm jerked back with a pained squawk, but it was quick to recover. A serrated maw came for Wheeljack's throat.
His servos took hold of the Predacon's beak, spreading it apart before it could clamp down onto his neck cables. It took nearly all of his strength to keep it in place. His optics darted to Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead, searching for help, but they had their own problems. A second Predacon, the golden one with the two heads, had also stormed in, spewing fire at the pair of Autobots.
Apparently the beasts cared not whether their prey was Autobot or Decepticon. They were merely out for blood, at this point.
Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead weaved and dodged around the beast, but it was fast for its gargantuan size. A ball of flame struck Bulkhead dead in the chest, sending him flying back. His green plating became red hot from the contact. Meanwhile, one of the Predacons dual tails struck Magnus's flank, chucking him into the wall with a grunt of protest.
Wheeljack couldn't get up to help them even if he wanted to. His assaulter seemed to grow tired of their game of tug-of-war. It reared back, and with Wheeljack's servos locked upon its beak, he was dragged along with it.
"Whoa!" he yelped as his pedes flailed in the air, trying to find something solid.
He was denied that luxury when the Predacon tossed its helm so violently that Wheeljack lost his grip. The grounder soared across the room for the second time. At least he didn't crash into anything this time, but rather he tumbled across the bridge like a ragdoll. The experience wasn't any more pleasant.
With a strangled groan, Wheeljack glanced back up. He braced to see a maw of fangs, but the Predacons were ignoring the downed Autobots. Their initial enemy subdued, they had shifted their attention to Soundwave, who was back on his pedes. His visor swiveled back and forth between the monsters as they circled him, trying to flank him. Their growls sounded like demonic engines.
Slowly, cautiously, Soundwave took a step back. Then another and another, until both beasts were in a single line of sight. The Predacons followed after him, but maintained their distance, as if they were waiting for the Decepticon to make the first move. When he did not, the Predacons grew impatient.
With a joined screech, they lunged as one, claws extending towards Soundwave. Wheeljack saw schematics flash across his visor one moment too late. A groundbridge burst into existence with an explosion of light, swallowing the beasts whole. Their screams vanished into nothingness, filling the bridge with a silent void once more.
And just like that, they were back where they started. Wheeljack wondered why Soundwave hadn't just used one of his groundbridge tricks on the Wreckers, until he realized.
Soundwave had been fighting longer than the Autobot had been alive. He knew how to gauge his opponent's strengths and weaknesses. But the Predacons had no weakness. So the Decepticon disposed of them the only way he could. Soundwave knew he couldn't defeat the beasts. But he knew he could defeat the Autobots.
Wheeljack didn't know if he should feel insulted or elated. Insulted that the fragger thought he could best three of Optimus's top fighters. Elated to prove him wrong.
The Wrecker rolled back onto his pedes, Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead following his example. Wheeljack regained his hold on his dual swords while Magnus transformed his servos into double-barreled cannons and Bulkhead lifted his mace.
It was Wheeljack that broke the silence, "Alright. Let's dance."
Lennox clenched and unclenched his hands again and again as he paced the length of the Autobot's hangar. It was a nervous habit he had picked up as a quarterback during his high school years. He couldn't stand idly by on the sidelines as the defense held against the opposing team in the last few minutes of the game. No longer a restless teenager, it was not a fitting behavior of a calm and composed commander.
But just like back then, Lennox had to depend on others. He had to trust their capabilities and their reliability. The Autobots were more than capable, and no one could rival Optimus Prime's leadership. And yet Lennox felt helpless.
"Hell with this," he seethed. "I'm not going to just sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs while the 'Bots are fighting for the fate of the Earth."
"Lennox, I get you're chomping at the bit, so am I," Epps sighed."But they're in space. Space. What are we supposed to do? Strap a jet engine to a car and slingshot ourselves into orbit?"
"The Autobot's groundbridge could do it."
"We don't even know how to use it. We could create a black hole or delete the entire universe or something!"
Apparently, like Lennox, Epps recalled little of Ratchet's lecture. The Autobot scientist had explained to them how complicated groundbridge technology was, and how only the most experienced of Cybertronians could operate it. It all went over the humans' heads. The only thing that Lennox remembered was that it required coordinates to lock onto.
Well, they knew the Autobots' location. More or less.
"What were their last known coordinates?" Lennox demanded, approaching the computer that interfaced directly with the groundbridge.
"You can't be serious."
"How hard can it be? We just flip a switch, it opens a time-space hole, and we walk through it."
"And we step out right into space!"
Lennox opened his mouth to continue his case, only to be interrupted by a sharp voice.
"And what in the name of Abraham Lincoln do you think you're doing?" a new voice called out.
Both men turned towards the source, only to blink at the tall figure marching towards them.
"Fowler?" Epps gaped. "I thought you were supposed to be in Washington."
"I was," the government liaison confirmed, his voice rough. His appearance was even rougher.
His suit, usually crisp and pristine, was wrinkled and left in disarray. His tie hung loosely from his neck and several buttons of his collar were undone. His coarse hair, usually combed, looked just as unkempt, silvering strands sticking in random directions.
"Trying to convince the higher-ups that we need the continued support of the Autobots."
"And?" Lennox pressed.
"Not looking good," Fowler admitted with a shake of his head. "They already wrote the bill and sent it to Congress, which will exile the Autobots from U.S. soil."
"What?!"
Both Lennox and Epps jumped up at that, already another protest bubbling from their lips.
"They can't do that!" Epps cried.
"The Autobots are our allies!" Lennox added. "They fought for us, they fought with us!"
"And what has that gotten us?" came Galloway's voice.
The lieutenant colonel didn't know when he had entered the hangar, and how he got so close without the pair of soldiers noticing. Maybe it was thanks to a fast, rage-fueled stride. The left side of his face sporting an ugly, purple bruise, Lennox had hoped Galloway's near-death encounter with a Decepticon had mellowed his complaints. Instead, it seemed to fill him with petty anger.
"Countless soldiers, dead. Upon a dozen military facilities, gone," Galloway listed. "And let's not forget about today's mess. The only reason that walking freakshow was here was because of the Autobots, and now this entire base is compromised!"
"If you haven't noticed, we have bigger problems right now," Lennox argued. He waved his hand towards the ceiling, to the battle raging far, far above their heads. "The Autobots are currently engaged with the enemy. They're fighting for a world that's not even their own. And if they lose, we lose everything!"
"Considering their track record so far, I'm not about to place my bets on them. We have to prepare. For a full-on invasion against an enemy with superior numbers and firepower."
Lennox shook his head, frustration flaring at the man's ignorance.
"You don't get it!" he exclaimed. "There won't be any invasion! What Megatron is planning will destroy life as we know it! It will—"
He faltered, unsure how to finish that sentence. Because he was unsure what the Omega Lock would do, once fired. Would it raze the surface of the Earth, taking humanity with it? Or would the race befall the same fate as Miko, Raf, and Jack, and their bodies would no longer be their own? Either way, the Decepticons' victory was assured. And Lennox wasn't going to accept that.
"If you want to stay here and keep your head in the sand, that's fine," he told Galloway. "But I'm not going to watch as Armageddon rains down upon us."
With that, Lennox whirled away and walked towards the groundbridge controls.
"What are you doing?" Galloway demanded immediately.
"Saving the world."
"Last thing we need is a soldier playing hero!"
"Good thing he's not playing!" Epps snapped, barging his way between the advancing agent and his commanding officer.
"Step aside, sergeant!"
The burly soldier squared his shoulders. "No."
Galloway flushed with fury at the action until his entire face was purple. As an advisor, it was obvious the man was not used to having his authority challenged. When he spoke, everyone in the room listened, and no one disobeyed his word. Little did he know, the officers of NEST obeyed no one.
The discussion was settled, then. Lennox turned back to the computer, inputting the series of numbers that was the Autobots'—the Nemesis's—location. . He had watched Ratchet operate the groundbridge countless times, so he repeated the same sequence the medic always used. Despite the urgency of the situation, he was slow and careful, praying not to make a single mistake.
With each button he pressed, the volume of Galloway's voice grew, "Lieutenant colonel, stop what you're doing. I order you to stand down. You hear me?! That's an order!"
A flash crossed the screen with a cheery chime, assuring Lennox that coordinates had been set. His fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the lever, turning to face Galloway as he did so.
"Sorry," he drawled, though his voice was full of insincerity. "That's one order I have to disobey."
And then before Galloway had the chance to protest once more, the commander pulled the lever down. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as energy crackled from the great arch that towered over them. Then, in a blink of an eye, a vortex of swirling colors materialized.
The government agent's eyes practically popped out of his skull at the sight, rearing back as if the groundbridge was a fiery explosion. Meanwhile, the other men did not even flinch. Lennox glanced at Epps.
"Last chance, Epps. You in?"
"And let you take on the 'Cons alone? Come on, someone's got to be the one to drag your ass back home."
Although speaking in an exasperated tone, the fellow Ranger rose to his feet.
Then Fowler stepped forward, stating, "If you're really going to be a part of the final showdown against the 'Cons, it's my job as a representative of planet Earth to bear witness."
"Alright, then," Lennox said with a nod. "Let's go save the world."
He turned to face the raging portal, only to pause as his hazel eyes met electric-blue. Watching them, from the hangar entrance, was June Darby. Lennox couldn't imagine the storm of emotions she must have been experiencing. Guilt, worry, anger, and maternal love—he could see it all in her blazing eyes.
Their gazes remained even for a steady moment. Until finally, she spoke, "Bring him back to me."
Lennox gave a solemn nod. A promise. Then together, the humans of Earth stepped into the groundbridge.
Things weren't going very well.
Wrangled in Soundwave's alien tentacles, arms pinned to his sides and his swords out of reach, Wheeljack was cursing his miserable luck. Bulkhead and Ultra Magnus were out of commission. Bulkhead had been electrocuted in a sneak attack by Laserbeak, forced into stasis. Magnus had managed to take out the flying pest with a well-aimed shot, sending the injured symbiote to the ground, before Soundwave knocked him out in retribution. Things went downhill after that.
Still, the Wrecker continued to glare up at that emotionless mask, even if all he saw was his own reflection. The freak couldn't even look his opponent in the eye before his execution. He did not flinch as the barrel of Soundwave's thin cannon began to glow. He did not shut off his optics or look away, even as the weapon's hum filled the air.
If Wheeljack was going to meet death, then he was going to meet it with a straight face.
Only it never came to be.
Suddenly an explosion of light filled the shadows of the bridge, so bright that it even got Soundwave's attention. The Decepticon's helm swiveled around to confront the groundbridge. Wheeljack couldn't help but stare along with him, just as confused. It was obvious that Soundwave hadn't summoned it, but it couldn't have been the Autobots' doing, either. Everyone was aboard the ship…
Then who was it?
Wheeljack's answer came in the most unexpected way as a little figure flashed into existence.
"Lennox…?" the downed Autobots breathed, perplexed.
What was the human commander doing here? He didn't even know how to operate a groundbridge!
Two more organics appeared–Epps and Fowler. At least they had the decency to look surprised, blinking up at the twenty foot tall Soundwave. The Decepticon almost looked just as flabbergasted. Yet Lennox only gave a wry smile.
"Surprise," he quipped.
Wheeljack realized it was the perfect distraction. Gathering the remaining strength he had, he kicked out at Soundwave's legs. The lanky Decepticon stumbled as his foot was taken out from underneath him. He tried to recover his balance, but the Wrecker was faster. Wheeljack jumped to his pedes, all the while sending a fist into Soundwave's midsection. Then he sent another and another, working his way up to the smug drone's face.
A crack snaked its way across his visor with each hit. Just when Wheeljack thought it would shattered altogether, he landed a particularly hard strike to the Decepticon's helm. Suddenly Soundwave's whole body listed with a groan. Wheeljack stepped back just as his opponent struck flood with a reverberating slam. Then, like someone had flipped off a switch, the hum of his systems stuttered to a stop.
Wheeljack stared at what he had just done. He didn't think that would go over so well. Who knew a few fleshies turning up would help him defeat Megatron's third-in-command?
"I owe you one," the Wrecker nodded to three humans.
"Glad to be of service," Lennox replied.
"What about them?" Fowler asked, gesturing to Bulkhead and Ultra Magnus, who were both still unconscious.
Wheeljack frowned at his fallen friends. He wanted to help them, but he had little-to-no medical experience. Ratchet was on the ship, but the mech had no idea where he was. Furthermore, there was still half an army and an angry Predacon unaccounted for between him and the doctor. As much as it pained him, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like seizing control of the ship.
"They'll be alright," Wheeljack reassured, and it was true. Wreckers were hardy. They were fighters. "They've been through worse."
Lennox gave the disabled pair another glimpse before his head fell into a nod. It seemed the commander understood the concept of prioritizing the mission all too well.
"Alright," he relented. "What do we have to do?"
"Your part is over," Wheeljack responded. "Now I'm going to help myself to Megatron's ride." A devilish smirk crossed his dermas. "I always wanted to pilot a ship this big."
He marched over to the console in the center of the bridge, which seemed to be the main controls. Glancing over the monitors, the mech surmised that autopilot had been engaged. A typical, convenient function, except Wheeljack frowned when he noticed the flight path would have the Nemesis circumnavigate the Earth several times. Starting from one pole to the other, so the massive ship didn't gloss over a single inch.
So this was how they planned to cyberform the planet.
Wheeljack was all too eager to throw a wrench into their plans. His servos quickly glided over the controls, switching the Nemesis to manual control. A great, metallic groan echoed throughout the bridge as the ship lurched in response. While Wheeljack stayed in place thanks to the magnetic soles of his pedes, the little humans were sent stumbling. The Autobot almost cackled at their plight. They definitely weren't going to like this next part.
"You fleshies might want to hold onto something…"
How long had Miko been a Transformer now? Weeks? Months? A year? She wasn't sure anymore. She had been locked in Shockwave's lab near the first moment she opened her optics in her new frame. She had no way to tell time here, and her glimpses of the sky were few and far between.
The mutant tried to fill the void by remembering her life as a human. She had long, silky black hair… or… was it dark brown? Miko's face had been soft, feminine, but the features were fuzzy. The only clear image was that of her eyes. They were sharp, amber gold.
Just like a chisana okami. A little wolf.
That's what her sobo–her grandmother–had called her. She said that Miko had been born with a wild, restless soul. The human-turned-Transformer was beginning to believe those words as she paced back and forth like a caged animal.
Miko's audio receptors were still ringing with feedback from Predaking's roar of raw fury when he and the other Predacons stormed out of Shockwave's laboratory. Their bellows echoed down the grand corridors of the Nemesis and the floor shuddered under the weight of their stomps. Miko wanted to join them on the warpath, but only for her body to seize every time she neared the door.
She howled and whined in helplessness as she listened to the clamor of battle outside. They needed her! She should be out there, fighting! Not stuck in here, doing nothing! She didn't know how long she ranted and raved when suddenly the door opened with an aggressive haste. Revealing the large, imposing form of Shockwave.
Miko instinctively snapped to attention at the sight of him, freezing mid-stride and her door-wings raised high. He was the last mech she wanted to see, and yet she wanted nothing more than to sink her claws into his protoform.
In a blur of motion, she lunged towards Shockwave, her screech nearly as loud and piercing as a Predacon's.
"You killed them! You killed all of them! You monster!"
A clawed servo snatched her first before it connected to his glaring optic. Miko reflexively tried to pull herself free and follow it up with another assault, only to squeak when Shockwave's grip tightened. The metal of her wrist groaned under his strength.
"Desist," the mech ordered. "We have little time to spare."
As if to punctuate his point, the ship around them moaned and rattled. Miko lost her footing when it listed, only for a burly arm to catch her by the middle. She let out a shriek of protest when Shockwave scooped her up into the air. The little wolf yapped and wailed as she was taken further away from the door—and her freedom.
Her slaver carried her deeper in the bowels of the laboratory in hurried, purposeful strides. It was a sharp contrast to the slow, unbothered pace he usually preferred. That wasn't the only thing that was different. Shockwave's field was like an electric storm around her—explosive and intense.
It made Miko's spark pulse rapidly in her chest. Never once during her entire captivity had she seen the stoic mech in such a state. What possibly could have happened? Before the femme could work up the courage to ask, Shockwave stepped into the back of the lab—a room she had never been in before.
Dozens of monitors littered the walls, each showing a different schematic and numerous glyphs. Unable to decipher the alien symbols, Miko couldn't make sense of the gibberish. Unlike Raf or Jack, she was never well-versed with Cybertronian. Shockwave never bothered to teach her, either.
In the center of the room was a metal slab, similar to the one that she was often operated on. The sight of it sent chills running down Miko's spinal struts. Surely Shockwave wouldn't prepare for surgery, here and now, while the ship was under attack?
Then the human-turned-Cybertronian noticed another contraption, one that had not been present during her other operations. It was a massive machine hanging down from the ceiling like a ceiling fan. That was, if a fan had sawblades, needles, and blowtorches.
"W-What is this place?" Miko stammered, unable to keep the fearful quiver from her voice.
"Be quiet," Shockwave snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Not that the femme could, anyway, as in the next moment, the world panned away in a dizzy blur. The Decepticon slammed her down onto the slab with such force that a sharp, metallic crack pierced the air as Miko's helm stuck the surface. Pain blooming behind her optics and her vision pixelated into a thousand pieces, she could not resist when a clawed servo snatched her wrist.
Miko's limbs were pinned down one by one, held into place until a band of energon appeared, effectively restraining her. In a matter of moments, the mutant was made completely immobile. That didn't stop her from trying to rise anyway, squirming weakly against her bonds.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Miko demanded as she struggled, her voice coming out in a panicked shriek.
She tried to focus on Shockwave's massive form, but his shape moved in and out of her splintered vision .
"Project: Omega has failed," his cold voice answered her, as if it explained everything. "Now the only course of action to safeguard the Decepticon cause is Project: Warpdrive.
"Project: me?"
A lone red eye floated into Miko's point-of-view, glaring down at her.
"You assume the identity of an object?"
The words were spoken in such a monotone voice, Miko couldn't tell if it was a question or not. She treated it like it was one, though, answering him.
"Well, that's what you always call me!" she retorted.
"Merely because you are the project's vessel."
"I'm a jeep, not a ship!"
"You are the only remaining Cybertronian that possesses a functioning warpdrive within you. Thus, you are an invaluable asset, one I have been working on since I first discovered your unique biology."
The more Shockwave seemed to speak, the less sense he seemed to make. He compared her to a ship. A ship carried goods. And he wanted what was within her. What could he possibly–
Her wrapdrive.
Her biology, her mutation. It was a trait that was so incredibly rare that only a handful of Cybertronians possessed it. Out of the entirety of the Decepticon ranks, there had been only one individual that carried one.
Starscream's trine brother, Skywarp.
Now he was gone. And Shockwave had been searching for one ever since.
Her caretaker had cared little for Miko. No. She had died and been brought back to life by an alien divinity, and he could not have been less interested. All his surgeries, all his experiments, had not been for her, but for what she carried.
This entire time, Shockwave had never even considered her a living being.
Miko–Warpdrive–was only an object to him.
The realization was slow to come, and when it did, it hit her like a freight train. It was a pain like no other, greater than all the torture she had suffered, spreading to every particle in her chassis, seeping down into her struts. It left her trembling, her plating rattling against her bonds. The air was knocked out of her ventilation system, and yet Miko managed to let out an audio-piercing scream.
"You…you bastard! I'm not your fragging science project!"
"You are my property," Shockwave retorted callously.
"NO, I'M NOT! I'M NOT A THING FOR YOU TO OWN!"
"I will use you as I see fit."
The pixels in Miko's vision had pierced together enough to allow her to see Shockwave's sinister shadow slipping away. A great, metallic moan echoed as he did so, likely from a distant explosion. It reverberated across the entire room, making it seem that the world was trembling with each of the mech's heavy steps. His stride did not even waver as he neared a workstation, his claws calmly tapping along the console.
A shape appeared upon the screen. Miko at first couldn't make it out, but her optical feed slowly began to piece back together. Like completing a jigsaw puzzle, the picture eventually came clear. It was foreign, alien, and yet the former human recognized it immediately.
It was her.
"W-Wha…" she stammered. "What is this?"
Shockwave didn't answer her. Instead, her image began to twist and fold. It was like watching herself transform, but it wasn't into her chosen vehicle, or any vehicle, for that matter. It was an oblong, lumpy, asymmetrical that, at first, seemed to have no rhyme or reason. But the longer Miko continued to stare, the more the odd shape seemed to resemble Shockwave's cannon…
"This…" the scientist stated, "is the perfect weapon."